What Happens In Vegas

Julia’s POV: My head is killing me! What happened last night? I open my eyes to the sun just peeking over the mountains. The open window lets in warmth, and I just know in an hour it’s going to be hot. Vegas is like that. Why on earth did someone decide to put a city in the middle of the desert? And that was before air conditioning. Seriously, what were they thinking? I slowly get out of bed to get my things, but when I look around, I notice I’m not in my room at all. Oh shit! I’m in his room. I look at the bed to see him still sleeping. Thank goodness for small miracles. I throw my clothes on and sprint to the door. Once I’m through, I close his door as quietly as possible. I’m safe inside my room as I lean my back against my door and heave a huge sigh of relief. I go over the itinerary from yesterday and try to remember what happened last night, but there’s nothing. I don’t remember a thing. Mr. Draven had a meeting at 8 p.m. and told me to wait for him to finish. I sat at the bar and sipped my Shirley Temple. Mr. Draven stumbled toward me, so I tried to help him, but I remember nothing after that. Just then the alarm on my phone begins to chime. Our flight is in a few hours, so I need to prepare. I walk to the washroom and it’s only then I notice my legs are weak and tired. My body aches in an area that has never ached before. No, no, no! No, it can't be. I didn’t sleep with him! I didn’t lose my virginity to my boss! I rush to the full-length mirror inside the washroom and strip down. I take deep calming breaths as warm tears slowly trickle down my face. I turn back around and look at my reflection. What have I done? I look at my body and feel a disconnect. That’s not my body. How could it be? My alarm rings again bringing me back to the present. I always set 2 alarms because I hate mornings. I have to get a move on. I quickly shower and pack my luggage. Mr. Draven hasn’t called me yet, so I know I must make sure he’s prepared to leave. He has appointments when we return, so no time can be wasted. I arrive at his door and take a deep breath. We’re both adults. It’s just something that happened. There’s no changing that. I knock on his door. “Mr. Draven?” *** Fredrick’s POV: “Stop knocking. Ms. Lewis, get my suit ready and prepare some black coffee.” I get out of bed to prepare for my busy schedule. My head hurts more than usual. I take a quick shower and shave. I wrap a towel around my nether regions in case Ms. Lewis is still in my room. That woman drives me mad. She’s too beautiful to be real. She’s like a pin-up brought to life. My suit is laid out neatly just as it should be. I quickly dress and head out. Ms. Lewis has a travel mug prepared. Good. I think I’ll keep her around. She’s the first intern to actually be of use. The last three were all useless. I can’t believe my assistant of 6 years decided to quit just to have a baby. “Sir, your itinerary for the day?” she asks me like it’s something we don’t do every morning. I nod and take a sip of coffee. Just the aroma calms my aching head and settles my nerves. “Flight is at 8 a.m. We should arrive back by 5 p.m. You have a board meeting at 5:30. That gives you 2 hours for office work. You are scheduled to meet Ms. Cavanagh at 7:45 p.m. for dinner.” I nod and check my phone for emails. “Make sure my luggage is ready, call for my car, and make sure nothing gets left behind.” *** Julia’s POV: Okay. I guess sleeping with his assistant isn't a big deal for the high and mighty Mr. Draven. I do my job and get everything done quickly. I double check his room while he is lounging in the living area of the suite. While he was in the shower, I tidied the bed. Sure enough, evidence of our night together lies between the sheets. What’s done is done. There's no changing the past. I look at the bed again and sigh. I carefully comb through the room for anything left behind. I check the nightstand last. Inside the drawer is a black velvet box. I open it out of sheer curiosity. Inside is a beautiful diamond ring. Mr. Draven wouldn’t be so careless as to leave something as exquisite as this. I rush out to the living area. “Mr. Draven, this was left behind. I'm sure it’s not intended for your luggage.” I set the box on the coffee table in front of him. He nods while continuing to read his emails. He takes a sip of his coffee then looks at the table. “That’s not mine.” He returns to his emails when there is a knock at the door. I allow the bellhop in and point out the various suitcases. I receive a text alert that the car has arrived. “Sir, the car is downstairs.” He stands up and goes to head out but stops. He takes the box and opens it. There is a look of confusion on his face. He places the box down and checks his phone. “Ms. Lewis, check your business account.” Okay…I pull up my bank account on my phone and show it to him. He looks over the list and returns my phone. He looks at his phone again and scratches the back of his neck. I know that move; he only does that when he’s frustrated. He puts the box in his suit jacket and grabs his coffee before tucking his phone away. “Let’s go.” The ride to the airport is short and we make our way through the VIP area. His plane is awaiting our arrival on the tarmac. We buckle in and are ready to set off. “Would you care for a beverage this morning?” the gorgeous blond stewardess asks. “Nothing for me. Ms. Lewis, would you care for anything?” Mr. Draven’s ocean blue eyes look my way. I realize how hungry I am. I haven’t had a chance to eat anything. “Orange juice, please. Also, can I please have a blueberry bagel with cream cheese and some grapes?" The stewardess nods and retreats. “Ms. Lewis, did you enjoy your visit?” I gulp. Oh no. Is he bringing up last night? Avoid it. Just pretend nothing happened. Don't make a big deal of it. If he wants to talk about last night, he'll bring it up. “Las Vegas was exactly as it appears in movies. I was amazed.” His lush lips turn up slightly. “Did you enjoy your evening?” I clear my throat. Like he doesn’t know. I feel my cheeks flush as I swipe a stray hair over my ear. “I-I…” “Your food, ma'am.” The stewardess arrives with a tray and saves me from having to continue. “Thank you.” I look up. Mr. Draven has returned to his phone. He then pulls out his laptop and begins working. After eating, I pull out my laptop and begin working as well. The flight goes by quickly. I’m at my desk reading the email from my school. Friday is the last day of my internship. Intern, my ass. I fulfilled the role as his assistant. It was the only position available when I applied for my internship at Draven & Baker. My inbox chimes with a new email. I open it. 'Ms. Lewis. As your internship comes to a close, we are left with an open position for Mr. Draven’s assistant. Mr. Draven is satisfied with your work over the last 3 months and would like to offer the position to you. Please respond with your resume to the HR department ASAP. Pay and benefits will be discussed at a later time. Thank you for your attention. -Mrs. Harvey.' Mrs. Harvey is Mr. Draven’s personal secretary. She is a kind lady in her 40s. It’s rumored that she makes 6 figures. Mr. Draven’s assistant would make even more. OMG! Mr. Draven’s office door opens. He stops in front of my desk while looking at his cell phone. “I will be returning to Las Vegas in 2 weeks. Make sure everything is arranged. Perhaps a different hotel.” I nod. “Yes, sir. Any preference?” Without looking up he answers, “None. I’m out for the day. As soon as you’re finished, you may go.” Alrighty then. I begin searching online. He doesn’t wait for a response before heading to his private elevator. I search through the hotels and pick one at random then prepare to arrange his personal plane. He didn’t tell me how long his stay would be, so I pull up his schedule. Of course, it’s jam packed. I send him a text. Me: Mr. Draven, your schedule is full for the time you plan to go to Las Vegas. When would you like to go and for how long? I will need to rearrange your schedule. He instantly responds. Mr. Draven: I will be staying for two weeks beginning Thursday. Clear your schedule as well. I guess he assumes I’m taking the position as his assistant, but I have yet to decide. *** Fredrick’s POV: I enter the restaurant and go straight to my table. I get the same one every time. “Darling, you’re finally here. It’s not like you to be late,” my shrew of a fiancée tells me. I unbutton my jacket and take my seat. “My meeting ran over.” I offer no apology to Ms. Cavanagh. I couldn't care less about the shallow stick figure in front of me. She’s the daughter of my father’s partner, Mr. Baker. Father wants us to marry, but I can’t stand her. He thinks it will be good for the company, but I plan to buy them out instead. They’re just dead weight. The waiter pours the wine that she must have ordered. I don’t drink wine, never have, but she insists. I take a sip and look at the waiter. “The usual.” The waiter nods and looks to Shelby. “Scallops.” The waiter nods and retreats. “Darling, how was Vegas? You must take me with you next time. I missed you too much while you were away.” She sips her wine. I look toward the waiter and hold up my wine glass. He nods and brings me my scotch. Everyone here knows what is expected, which is why I come here so often. “I was there for work. It was not a vacation.” I drink my scotch as the waiter brings out our food. Of course, she has to take a picture and post it to social media. “When we’re married will you bring me along on your trips? I’ll be so bored waiting for you all alone.” I grunt in response. We eat in silence, which is good because her talking grates on my nerves. All she ever talks about is entertainment gossip and shopping. Why would I give a damn about either of those things? “Excuse me," I say as I stand up. I take my jacket off and proceed to the washroom. I return to my table and notice my jacket is not how I left it. I pick it up and put it back on. “I ordered dessert,” Shelby tells me. I grunt and sit down. I don’t eat sweets. She should know that by now. I look to the waiter with my scotch glass. He brings me another and places a plate in the middle of the table. Shelby begins picking at the sugar concoction. After two bites, she places her fork down. She eats like a damn bird, so why does she even order anything? She only takes three or four small bites. It’s maddening. I need to get away from her. She drives me nuts. “My schedule is full coming up. I won’t have time for casual meetings,” I tell her. “That’s all right. We have the gala coming up soon. Remember, we are getting our marriage license tomorrow as well. I can visit you at the office in the meantime. Darling, you still have not given me a new ring. I expect it soon. All my friends are asking to see it. How can I show my face without my ring?” I down my scotch. “I gave you a ring. Why must you have a new one?” She sips her wine. “You’re so silly. That diamond was not the right cut. I’ve told you this. You know, you never did actually propose properly. When you get my new ring, you can do it then.” I glare at her, silencing her. “We already made arrangements. I will not get on my knee and grovel to you. The ring you have is sufficient. If you disagree, maybe the wedding should be canceled.” Her mouth hangs open and tears flow from her face. “No, darling. You can’t mean that.” I pass her a napkin. “All right, that’s enough. It’s still on, but no more talk about another ring.” She nods and wipes her face. She pulls a mirror from her handbag and touches up her makeup. I stand and escort her out. Shelby and I have been engaged for two years now. In all that time we’ve only slept together twice. Both times she drugged me. I know because I woke up feeling like shit. I have a doctor on retainer, so had him run blood work. I never drink from a glass I haven’t seen poured myself whenever she’s around. She doesn’t do anything for me. I’m not attracted to her at all. But Ms. Lewis…that body should be in magazines. She is stunning. Her body is like Bettie Page’s or Marilyn Monroe’s—voluptuous, curves in all the right places, and a narrow waist. She gets me going, which is why I try not to look at her as much as possible. Her brown hair is usually tied up in a bun and her face is hidden behind glasses, but her skin looks smooth and soft. Her lips are dark and thick and makes me want to take a bite out of them. Shelby, on the other hand, she’s a basic model. She’s too skinny with a flat chest, although I’m pretty sure she recently had her boobs enhanced. Her face is covered in makeup and her lips look like a blowfish, which I know she gets done regularly. Shelby gets in the car as I get ready to drive. One of my few hobbies is cars. The other is billiards. I am addicted to the rush of a fast car. I speed off in my black BMW M4. It’s my normal, everyday car, but I have a collection of others. “Darling, why don’t we just go to your place? You’ve been away too long.” She wraps her claws around my forearm. I glare at her hand and pull away from her grasp. “I’m busy.” I drive even faster to her place. She kisses my cheek before stepping out of the car. I speed away before she can even close the door. I pull out a handkerchief and wipe away the lipstick that I’m sure she left behind. When I get home, I pull into my garage. My cars are lined up like a showroom. It’s a beautiful sight. I head to my room. I empty my pockets onto the dresser in my closet. The ring box grabs my attention. I bought a ring last night. I know I bought it because the jeweler was listed on my bank app. Why the hell did I buy a ring? I open it up and take a look. It’s dainty with a simple filigree design. Not at all what Shelby would like. No wonder she brought up the subject of a new ring. She probably assumed it was for her and didn’t like it. I pull the ring out of the box and take a closer look. The band looks larger than Shelby’s size as well. Who did I buy a ring for? What did I do last night? I don’t remember buying a ring. Hell, I don’t remember anything after meeting up with Jarret. That bastard, what did he do to me? I hardly had anything to drink, but I still woke up with a headache. I dial my college buddy. “What did you do to me last night?” I hear a short pause on the other line. “Hey bud, did you enjoy your night? That assistant of yours is smoking. How was she?” My hand automatically goes to the back of my neck. “What the fuck are you talking about? What did you do?” The bastard laughs. “Just helping you out, man. You’re always too uptight. It wasn’t that strong. Did it do the trick?” He drugged me. The son of a bitch fucking drugged me. “I don’t know anything. I woke up alone and can’t remember a thing. If anything happened, she didn’t say anything.” “Her too? Ah man, what a waste. I was trying to do you a favor and you can’t even remember. Why do I even bother? Next time you’re out here, I’ll make it up to you both.” I grunt. “Sure, right after I kick your ass.” I swear next time I see him he’s getting a broken jaw. I click off the phone. I go to my gym and work out. I try to remember anything from last night, but there is really nothing. I shower and head to bed; I have an early day tomorrow.