What Happens In Vegas. Rachel Bailey
“That’s true,” she said, carrying her mostly empty smoothie glass over to the sink. She took one last sip and rinsed it out. “Do we need to schedule an auction here in Nashville the week of the baby’s birth so I’ll be certain you’re in town?”
“Very funny,” Tyler said without laughing.
“I’m not entirely kidding.” Amelia walked back to the counter and planted her palms on the cool stone. “It took over a month to nail you down about our elopement. If Patty Travis’s estate wasn’t having an auction this week, it might have taken even longer. I know you’ve reorganized what you can to make the thirty-day arrangement work out, and I appreciate it. But what are we going to do after that? Even if we stay together, I’m going to spend most of my time in this huge house, alone, while you trot around the world chasing flawless gemstones.”
“You could come with me, you know.”
Amelia snorted. As alluring as the idea might sound, it would never work. “I have a job, too, you know.”
“Do you not get vacation time?”
“It’s not a question of benefits, Ty. I am part owner of the company. If I’m not there to do my share, everyone else has to scramble to fill my space. We were lucky when I went to the reunion that the wedding that day was light appetizers and we were able to bring in a contractor. My maternity leave is going to be a huge impact to the business. Traveling with you is impossible.”
Tyler frowned. She could tell he wasn’t used to someone shooting down his great ideas. He needed to understand that From This Moment wasn’t just some job she was keen to cast aside once she had a rich man to take care of her. It was her career. Her passion. A rich husband only seemed to be complicating the issue.
“What if I could arrange the trip to depart on a Sunday night and come back on Thursday or Friday?”
“That would still be pushing it. It would have to be really important. And somewhere I’d like to go. I’m not getting a bunch of shots with weird side effects so you can haul me to India when I’m four months pregnant.”
“What about London?” he asked with an optimistic tone.
Damn it if he didn’t pick the perfect location right out the gate. Amelia had always wanted to go to London. “Yes, I would like to see London, but timing is key. And,” she added, “that wasn’t really my point, Ty. In a few more months, I’m not going to be able to travel anywhere. After that, I’ll have an infant. More than stamps in my passport, I need you to be here.”
She looked down at the clock on her phone. “Just think about it. We can talk later. I’ve got to get to the chapel. Good luck at your auction.”
Tyler nodded thoughtfully and waved a hand at her. “Okay. Hope the wedding goes well. I’ll see you tonight.”
Amelia picked up her purse and went out the door. Tyler could be aggravating at times, but when it came down to it, he knew her better than anyone else. He could use that against her to get his way. Dangling a trip to London was just cruel because he knew how badly she wanted to go. But if she agreed to one trip, he’d find a reason she had to take another. And another. Then after the baby was born, they might as well just bring in a full-time caterer to replace her.
She might be softening on compromising for their relationship, but her job was her dream and she wouldn’t lose that. Even so, the whole drive to work she was taunted by thoughts of a proper English tea with fresh scones and the potential to lick clotted cream and strawberry jam from Tyler’s bare chest.
* * *
“I told you not to wait up for me.”
Amelia stumbled in the door around two-thirty in the morning, her eyes glazed with fatigue and her purse weighing so heavily on her shoulder it could’ve been filled with concrete.
Tyler frowned and got up from his laptop, where he’d been working. He hadn’t intended to stay up, but work had beckoned and the later it got, the more he worried about her. He knew her job was important to her, but she worked too hard. He had seen that same expression on his mother’s face when she’d come home from a double shift at the manufacturing plant—bone tired. Too tired to sleep, sometimes. He would make her a cup of tea and sit up talking with his mother until she finally relaxed enough to go to bed.
“You should’ve called me to pick you up,” he chastised gently. “You look exhausted enough to wrap your car around a light pole. Who will cater for them then?”
She shrugged and dropped her purse on a stool in the kitchen. “It’s not a long drive home now. I’m fine.”
Tyler came up behind her to help her slip out of her jacket. “I thought you had help on Saturday nights.”
“I do. There’s the waitstaff and a couple people that help cook, like Stella. She was a godsend tonight. Normally it’s not a problem. I thrive on the adrenaline rush of the kitchen chaos.” She climbed onto the next stool and slumped against the counter. “But lately, I just don’t have it in me. A couple hours in and I have to sit down and take a break.”
“You’re pregnant, Ames.”
“So? The baby is the size of a blueberry at best. It shouldn’t be giving me this much grief so soon.”
“That’s not how it works. My sisters complained about the exhaustion far more than anything else. It starts earlier than you’d think.”
“I need to get a baby book—The Moron’s Guide to Procreation or one of those What to Expect When Your Body Is Taken Over by a Tiny Alien books.”
“I think we can manage that,” he said with a smile. Amelia was really tired if she was getting this crotchety. “Would you like some chamomile tea?”
Amelia sighed, shaking her head and then stopping. She looked up at him with hope beaming in her big doe eyes. “Do we have any hot chocolate?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll look.” Tyler went into the pantry, scanning for the tiny packets of instant mix, but came up empty-handed. He spied a bar of milk chocolate on the shelf and decided to improvise. It had been a long time since he’d made hot chocolate for his little brothers after school. Once his older sisters had gotten part-time jobs, Tyler had been the one at the apartment when the school bus dropped off the little ones. He’d been the one who had made sure they’d done their homework and given them snacks. Hot chocolate had been one of their favorites. Back then he’d made it with bottled syrup, but this would work.
“From scratch?” she asked as she watched him put a small pot of milk on to boil.
“Only the best for you,” he said with a grin. He broke up small pieces of the chocolate and dropped them into the heating mixture of milk, vanilla and cinnamon. A few minutes later, it had come together into a frothy brew that he poured into a mug for her. “Here you go. Be careful, it’s hot.”
“Looks yummy. Thank you.”
Tyler rested his hands on the granite countertop and watched her sip the cocoa with a blissful expression on her face. In that moment, he realized just how much he enjoyed making her happy. Over the years, he’d always liked sending her pretty gifts for her birthday or Christmas. That was fun because he knew she would never buy anything like that for herself, and jewels were his business. Seeing her wearing something sparkly and decadent seemed like the perfect treat.
But lately, even before the reunion, their relationship had started to feel different. With their hectic schedules, they rarely saw each other in person, but as life had started encroaching on their technological interchanges, he’d found the idea of it was bothering him more than it used to. He missed talking to Amelia on the phone. Finding emails and texts from her. When he’d arrived in Vegas for the reunion, he couldn’t believe how much he’d missed the sight of her. He hadn’t even wanted to go to the party. Tyler would’ve been just as happy ordering room service and spending hours talking in his hotel room.
Now