Free Waking Up in Vegas by Romy Sommer Page A

British prime minister would never have packed the Queen’s suitcase. He swallowed his laughter. Not the time, nor the place.
    He concentrated on the note.
    I have a family crisis I have to attend to, but I’ll call as soon as I can. Whatever you do, please don’t file those papers. I’ll explain everything soon. I love you.
    He signed it Max. That would have to do for now.
    From his laptop case he removed an envelope with the Mandarin Oriental’s embossed logo. He folded the note and slipped it inside, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his signet ring. The antique Westerwald heirloom his father had given him on his eighteenth birthday, one of only three ever made.
    He sealed the ring into the envelope, set the key Phoenix had given him on top of it, packed up his laptop, and did a quick sweep of the rooms to make sure Albert hadn’t missed anything. Then he crossed to the door, flipped the latch, and pulled the door shut behind him.
    The click of the latch as it locked had a resoundingly final ring to it.
    Phoenix hopped off the bus and hurried down the street towards the motel. She hummed as she walked. She had only known Max for a week and he’d turned her life upside down and inside out, and she was
humming
.
    Tonight she would tell him her decision to go to Napa with him. After all, what was keeping her in Vegas? A dead-end job with a boss who had no sense of humour whatsoever?
    She’d already handed in her notice and she was free as a bird.
    At the apartment door, she fished her cell phone out of her bag as well as the keys. Still no response from Max. She’d called as soon as she got off shift and picked up his message, but his phone was switched off as usual. In her world, most people needed to be surgically detached from their phones. It was yet another indication of how far apart their lives were. Max never seemed to switch his on.
    She slid the key into the lock and smiled as she turned it. But perhaps after all there was a strong enough connection between their worlds that they could overcome their differences. Max was right. This was more than just lust between them. Lust alone wouldn’t have kept her smiling like a loon all day. She wasn’t yet ready to use the other L word, but maybe…
    The apartment was empty. No fancy dinner or candle-lit baths tonight, clearly. Perhaps he planned to take her out for dinner instead.
    “Max?” she called, throwing her purse down on the sofa and moving to the bedroom. Also empty. It was only when she reached the bathroom that the fear began to bubble in the pit of her stomach.
    His toothbrush was gone.
    She strode back into the bedroom and flung open his cupboard. Empty.
    Fear lanced through her, pain sharp and familiar, and so dizzying she had to steady herself against the door.
    She hurried back to the living room, moving so quickly she stubbed her toe on the edge of the sofa. But the pain was nothing to the stabbing pain in her heart as she spotted the key.
    She couldn’t breathe.
    Sucking in gulps of air, she sank onto the sofa.
    Max was gone. Like everyone else in her life, he was gone.
    The tide engulfed her and she fought against it. She wasn’t going to let herself go down. No-one was going to pull her down to that dark place again.
    She raised her head. So what? So what that Max had failed her? She’d always known it was going to end eventually – that either he would leave or she would. This was what she’d wanted, right? To end things before they got complicated.
    Except that it was already complicated.
    She picked up the envelope beneath the key. It lay thick and heavy in her hand. With fingers that were steadier than they had any right to be, she slit open the envelope and gasped.
    Hundred dollar bills. Lots of them. And a note.
    She unfolded the note, laughing hollowly as she read Max’s large, neat handwriting.
    I love you
. Yeah, right.
    He loved her enough to pay her off like some harlot. One abrupt voice message, and then he’d