Our flight left earlier than scheduled. A small blessing, really.
The sooner we got out of New York, the better.
By the time we landed in Las Vegas, the city lights had already begun to shimmer in that familiar, dizzying way–neon promises stretching across the desert.
I booked a hotel since Elly and I still had another flight tomorrow. Las Vegas was never our destination.
Elly and I climbed into the back of a cab, the driver humming to himself while some gossip segment crackled through the radio.
“Can you believe Archie Valez ran out of his own Christmas wedding?”
“No way.”
“I’m serious. Left the bride at the altar. She’s pregnant, too.”
“Betty Valez, right? His aunt? Well, former aunt. Married to his uncle back in the day.”
“Yup. And apparently, the Valez family wanted to keep things in the bloodline. Word is, Betty’s carrying a boy.”
“So why’d he ditch her?”
“My source says he ran off to chase his ex–girlfriend–some girl named Sabrina Marcellus.”
“Sabrina who?”
“You haven’t heard of her? She was with Archie for years. Moved to New York with him. Rumor is, she couldn’t handle his little
‘situation‘ with Betty and took off.”
“Wait–get this. She had his kid. A daughter.”
“Jesus. Drama city.”
“Rich people, man. Just a different breed.”
The radio cut to commercial, full of laughter and snide remarks.
I stared out the window, my hands tightening around Elly’s sleeping form. My heart was a tangle of heat and ache.
He left his wedding?
The same wedding he’d agreed to.
“Mommy…” Elly blinked up at me. “Are they talking about Mr. Valez?”
1/3
+15 Bonus
Smart girl. Even half–asleep, she recognized his name.
“They are,” I whispered, brushing her hair back, “but nothing that matters to us. Just close your eyes,
here.”
She nestled into my chest, soft breaths soon turning to sleep.
But my mind… my mind kept spinning.
I held her close as the cab wound through the city, neon and memory blurring through the windows.
We reached the hotel in under thirty minutes.
After tucking Elly into bed, I stepped out onto the balcony and dialed Ava.
sweetheart. Mommy’s
She answered on the second ring, her voice full of energy. “Hey, honey! I meant to call you. I’ll be flying into New York next week.
Some of the new shipments came in and—”
She paused. “Wait. How’s Elly? How’s Archie?”
I hesitated.
And that silence was enough for Ava.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice dropped, all playfulness gone.
“I’m not in New York anymore,” I said softly. “I’m in Vegas.”
Silence.
“Do you think you could send a plane to pick me up?” I asked. “Tomorrow?”
To the world, the Marcellus family ran casinos in Vegas. But in truth, most of our operation was based in Mexico–closer to the
farms, the shipments, the numbers we didn’t put on paper. Meeting Archie had been a detour. A beautiful, reckless detour.
I never told him much about my family.
