I Remember You by Joyce Armor

Author:Joyce Armor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joyce Armor

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At the thriving Back in the Saddle Casino, Ellie sat at her table sipping her root beer, surreptitiously watching Cindy, so stunning and classy, smiling and so gregarious, greeting various customers as old friends. Could she be more attractive and appealing? As that thought tortured her, Russell walked up and plopped himself down at her booth startling her.

“Guilt is a terrible thing,” he said.

“So is a fat lip.”

He looked at her speculatively. “She’s nice. You probably didn’t count on that.”

She wasn’t going to deal with this. Not tonight. Ellie stood up and leaned over the table. “It’s still none of your business, but for your information, we haven’t done anything.”

Except for that dinner. And those other meetings. And the kisses. And it’s not that you haven’t thought about doing much more. A whole friggin’lot.

Russell grabbed her hand. “Wait. I’m sorry. Please don’t go.”

When he touched her, she shouldn’t have been shocked that she felt a tingle that went all the way up her arm. It wasn’t the first time. It had to be revulsion. Or a blast of the air conditioning. It couldn’t possibly be that attraction she was so diligently trying to dismiss. Thank you, Cleopatra, the queen of denial. She hesitated. She really didn’t want to leave, though she didn’t want to be harassed by Russell either. Reluctantly, she sat back down, eying Russell suspiciously. Had he really been put on this planet to annoy her? Brian and Russell were so different. Brian was competent, sophisticated, driven. Russell was footloose and funny and…and…she didn’t know what. It was like Brian was an anchor and Russell was a balloon. He seemed to bring out the worst in her. She wasn’t usually this rude.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it sincerely. “I’m hypersensitive tonight for some reason. You’re doing me a huge favor here, and I really appreciate it. Seriously. And I’m glad you’re getting to share your singing talent for a bigger audience. You sound wonderful.”

He leaned back, looking relaxed. “I always wanted to play Vegas someday,” he said, smiling. There it was again, that ability to seem like he was totally content with who and where he was.

A cocktail waitress, dressed in a fringed miniskirt and a midriff blue-checked blouse tied below her big bulbous breasts, of course wearing cowboy boots and a straw cowboy hat, brought Russell a soft drink and a plate of cheese fries. He thanked her and she practically flung her breasts onto his plate. What was it with him and breasts? And why did women seem to want to share them with him so freely? Brian probably would have ignored the experience. Russell appreciated it in all its tackiness. Finally, the slutty waitress left.

“And what did you want to do after you played Vegas, Russell?”

“I don’t know. Play Dodger Stadium maybe? Carnegie Hall?”

He offered her some fries. She declined.

“You’re so talented, my furry friend. Or I guess that would be my checkered friend tonight. Did you think you’d be famous

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