Sleepless in Savannah (33 page)

Chapter 20

Lance's insomnia had returned. He had lain awake all night thinking about Sophie, worrying about the crisis she had in her life, and why she hadn't felt as if she could share it with him. He would have been there to support her, to take care of her.

Maybe he should call Maddie....

No, he shouldn't pry. He had to be patient. Sooner or later Sophie would trust him enough to confide her secrets. Hell, they were probably nothing. He was probably imagining things because he'd let her mess with his head, and she'd been gone only one night, and he already missed her like hell.

If this was what love did to a man, he wished he'd never found it.

Love... Did he love Sophie?

Yes, he couldn't deny it any longer. In fact, he'd probably loved her for a long time, but he'd been too foolish and stubborn and scared to admit it. And it did scare him....

What would he do if she decided to take that job in L.A. and move away? He wasn't certain he could stand to live without her, but he couldn't ask Reid and Chase to uproot the company, especially with this multimillion-dollar deal in the works.

Good God, what was he going to do?

Rubbing his hand across his bleary eyes, he staggered toward the bathroom to shower, but he stumbled over a pair of sneakers. He kicked them aside, remembering how neat Sophie's house was, and how homey. His apartment was a mess, nothing remotely homey about it. The phone trilled, and he reached for it, hoping it was Sophie.

"Lance, it's Reid."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I... uh, flew to Vegas last night."

"Vegas? What in the hell are you doing there?" Then the truth dawned on him. "You went to see Lucy?"

"Yeah, but I found a lot more."

His brother sounded upset. Nervous. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know how to say this, but..." Reid paused. "But I thought Lucy was trying to keep you and Sophie apart, so I wanted to talk to her."

"That's crazy." He sat down on the side of the bed, confused. "Why would Lucy try to keep us apart?"

"I don't know." Reid coughed. "But when I got here, I found out some interesting things about the Lane sisters."

Lance's heartbeat went into double time. "What kind of things?"

"Listen, man," Reid said in a worried voice, "I don't want to do this over the phone. You really need to come to Vegas."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. You suspected Sophie was hiding something from you?"

"Well, yeah." He dropped his head forward, rubbing a hand over his beard stubble.

"You were right."

His imagination leaped onto a roller-coaster ride. Was she married? Did she have a separate life in Vegas? Was she some kind of fugitive?

"Just catch the next plane out, and I'll fill you in when you get here."

Lance hesitated. A few minutes earlier he'd told himself to be patient and wait for Sophie to confide in him. But he couldn't go through the day and the entire weekend wondering what had upset his brother so badly. Was Sophie's secret really that big?

"Lance, are you coming? I'm staying at the Palace."

Dread filled his chest. "Yeah, I'll see you in Vegas."

* * *

Sophie had caught the last plane out to Vegas the night before, and was so exhausted when she'd arrived at Lucy's that she'd crawled into Lance's shirt—she'd had to bring it with her to remind her of his scent—and fallen asleep. She'd expected Lucy to get home in the middle of the night after the show, and was shocked when she woke up and found the apartment empty. By the time she'd unearthed a diet Coke from Lucy's snake pit of a refrigerator, Lucy had sneaked in. Her sister's eyes flared in surprise; then she pivoted to make coffee.

"Soph, when did you get in?"

"Late last night."

"Sorry I wasn't here. I didn't expect you to come until this morning."

"I figured I'd need some time to go over the dance; it's been a while since I've done the steps."

Lucy nodded, although she didn't quite make eye contact, arousing Sophie's suspicions. Lucy poured her coffee, twirling a strand of hair around her finger—another one of her sister's nervous habits.

"Where were you?" Sophie asked, wincing when she realized her question sounded a tad too motherly and judgmental.

The cup clattered as Lucy emptied a sweetener packet in it and stirred. "I... was worried about Sassafras, so I stopped by to see her. We started talking, and I decided to stay over." She finally looked up and Sophie noticed the remnants of tears. "Sassafras is concerned about the baby, and how's she going to make it and—"

"Lucy, why have you been crying?"

"It's just that time of the month, and Sassafras was crying, and you know how tenderhearted I can get. I cry over Kodak commercials. Have you seen that one with the grandma—"

"Lucy," Sophie interrupted her, "forget the commercial. Did you have a run-in with Garrett or Deseree, or is some old boyfriend bothering you?"

"No." Lucy's head bobbed as she shook it, but her eyes teared again. "Don't worry so much, Soph; everything's fine, just fine."

Sure it was. Then why did her sister look as if her best friend had just died? Other suspicions took hold. "Lucy, you did make Garrison promise to keep my identity quiet, didn't you?"

"Of course." She grabbed a bagel and started toward the door. "I'm going to hop in the shower; then we'll head to the club and practice."

Sophie nodded. "Sure. I'll shower after you. I have a feeling I'll need some extra stretching, or I'll be so sore tomorrow I won't be able to move."

Lucy disappeared into her bedroom, and Sophie snatched a bagel for herself, uneasiness stealing through her. For some reason Lucy had been lying to her. But why?

They had never kept things from each other in the past....

* * *

When the shower water kicked on, Lucy let the flood of tears fall. She hated lying to Sophie, although technically she wasn't lying; she'd simply omitted a few truths. But Sophie would find out soon enough, unless Lucy thought of some way around it. Still, there was no need to admit up front that she'd made a complete fool of herself over Reid, or that he was here and he knew about the act... except that he would probably tell Lance, and then Lance would be upset with Sophie, and Sophie would hate her.

How had everything gotten so mixed up?

Her nose clogged, so she inhaled through her mouth, heaving with the mountain of tears welling in her chest and spilling over. She'd meant only to help Sophie by using those spells and charms—to save her from making a mistake by falling for Lance when he was so serious. But her spells had backfired, and now Lance and Sophie were all over each other. And she was alone, exactly as she'd been afraid she'd be. Worse, when Lance found out about Sophie they might break up. Then Sophie would be alone and miserable, and Lucy would be alone and miserable, and Sophie would never forgive her.

Unless she'd been wrong about Lance, and he really loved Sophie.

Then again, if he was anything like Reid, with all his judgmental macho-ism, he would hate the fact that Sophie had once been the Virginal Vampiress. He'd go off on her just as Reid had Lucy and think she had been a loose woman just because she danced, when dancing brought in good money. Heck, they had been two teenagers on their own, desperate and broke. And damn it, they hadn't been hookers or given lap dances. They hadn't even gone topless—and they could have made a killing if they had.

Any way around it, Lance would break Sophie's heart, and it was all Lucy's fault because she had fallen for that creep Reid Summers. She hadn't been able to resist when he'd said he'd come to Vegas to see her, and that she was his fantasy woman. And mercy, she had wanted to see if he really was better than her Sleepover, Inc., products, and dag-nab it, he was. But now she knew he'd meant The Virginal Princess was his fantasy woman, and although she hadn't been loose, she also wasn't exactly virginal herself.

Good gracious, she'd grown up in Vegas—how could she be totally innocent? And what man in the twenty-first century actually expected a woman to be a virgin?

A backward caveman Savannah boy, that was who. Not the man for Lucy Lane!

She and Sophie would both be better off without those insufferable Summers men.

Grabbing a towel, she dried off, wrapped it around her head with renewed resolve, and pulled on her robe. Her reflection caught her eye, and she grimaced. It would take a pound of makeup to cover up those dark circles and puffy red eyes. She hurried toward the refrigerator to find some cold cucumbers to press on her eyelids to stem the swelling. And then she'd find a couple of lucky charms for her and Sophie to wear tonight. They were going to need them.

After all, the show had to go on.

Now if she could just keep Sophie away from Reid for the next twenty-four hours; then she'd explain to Sophie what had happened, and how everything was going to be all right.

Really it was.

That was, unless she didn't have any cucumbers, and Reid showed up at the apartment before the show, or he called Lance....

* * *

By the time Lance reached Vegas and the Palace, his stomach felt as though a fist had clutched it.

He regretted the trip. Then again, he regretted not asking Reid to spill this big secret over the phone, regretted not calling Maddie, regretted not trusting Sophie, regretted trusting her, regretted falling in love and having this sick feeling in his chest now, regretted that no matter what he did, he had a bad feeling tonight was going to get worse. Because Sophie would hate him for coming and not trusting her...

Blast it all to hell and back—he was an effing mess.

"Here you are, sir."

Lance paid the taxicab driver, jumped out, grabbed his overnight bag, and dashed up the steps. He'd been too discombobulated on the way from the airport to appreciate the magnificence of the city's architecture, but this hotel was stunning in its size and opulence. He read the glittery marquis: The Palace Proudly Presents The Infamous Diva Act: The Virginal Princess And The Virginal Vampiress.

Hmm, if he weren't so nervous over this meeting with his brother, he might like to catch a show. After all, he'd never been to Vegas.

Where were Sophie and Lucy? At the hospital with their friend? At her house?

Or had Sophie lied about that?

He walked through the revolving door, taking in the decorative ceilings, elaborate decor, and bustle of guests, but he was too anxious to note the details. He quickly checked his bag with the bellhop and told him to send it to Reid's room, then studied the floor plan, amazed at the size and variety of services offered in the hotel, as well as the different dining areas, workout room, bars, and photographs of the showroom.

Reid had insisted they meet at the bar—a drink to cushion the blow—so he stalked toward it. His brother sat on a stool staring into a half-full bottle of imported beer, looking miserable. The fist in Lance's stomach tightened.

Taking the stool beside him, he patted his brother's back. "You look like the world just came to an end."

Reid gave him the most pitiful hangdog expression Lance had ever witnessed.

"I'm sorry, man."

"What do you have to be sorry about?"

"For coming here." Reid dropped his head forward, picked up his beer, and took a sip.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

"Not really."

"Then what am I doing here, Reid?"

Reid dropped a few bills on the counter and motioned for Lance to follow. "There's something you gotta see. Then we'll talk."

Lance frowned, but he followed him, surprised when his brother led him to the dinner/dance showroom. Reid had reserved a table near the front in the right-hand corner. Guests filled the room, the lights dimmed, and the music began for the first show.

"You wanted me to come out here to see a burlesque show?"

"It's not exactly burlesque."

"I don't get it."

His brother dropped into the chair, and Lance took the one opposite, annoyance mounting at his brother's cloak-and-dagger routine. "You're acting strange; why don't you just tell me what this is about?"

A waitress appeared wearing a skimpy little bustier and took their drink orders.

"Reid?"

"Shh," two older ladies next to them said. "The show's starting."

The main houselights went down, and suddenly dancers in various stages of dress or undress appeared. The sea of multicolored costumes complete with huge feathered-and-beaded headpieces, feathered wings, boas, thongs, and sparkly and sequined adornments made Lance's head swirl.

"Just watch; you have to see the Virginal Princess and the Vampiress."

Lance accepted the beer from the waitress and focused on the show. The music, singing, and dancing were unlike anything he'd ever seen, the dazzling costumed girls spinning and shaking and gyrating. Then a white carriage appeared, and out stepped a gorgeous redhead in a long white costume that sparkled with at least a thousand jewels.

On the opposite side a black carriage appeared, and out poured another seductress wearing blood red, except for the long blond curls.