All Bets Are Off (Vegas Kings - Alexander)

A Real Life Fantasy

In the weeks leading up to her trip, Lacy fantasized about stumbling into some wild adventure in Las Vegas. She let her imagination run free, so desperate for excitement she was willing to conjure up the most improbable scenarios. They were just daydreams, though. She didn't actually expect them to come true.

However, she certainly wasn't complaining that fate did, indeed, seem to want the best for her.

After their amazing dinner, she and Alexander sat on a cushy couch near the table on their private platform. The sky beyond the hundreds of windows was now dark and specked with stars. The restaurant revolved slowly, so she never had to worry about missing a view. She sat pressed against his side, warm and snug, his arm draped over her shoulders. He smelled good, he felt good, and her heart was tripping a giddy beat.

"So, you don't go by Alex?" She had a glass of wine in hand, only her second. She'd nursed the first one through dinner. She didn't want to get tipsy and forget a second of this.

"No, my mom doesn't like nicknames, or the shortened version of names." He had a tumbler of scotch in hand and was slowly tilting it back and forth, making the ice clink softly. "She never let anyone call me Alex, even family. She says it sounds cheap. Like shortening the name of royalty."

She looked at him, unsure if he was joking. He was both very charming and very cheeky, and he kept making her laugh. His eyes were mesmerizing, shining and mirthful.

He started laughing. "No, I'm joking about the royalty part. It's got nothing to do with our 'status.'" He shrugged. "She's just kinda weird. I think she got it from my grandma, who's really old-fashioned. She's got a lot of quirky hang-ups like that."

She nudged his knee with hers. "I bet your friends call you Alex though, don't they?" She didn't know if it was the moment or the wine, but she felt unusually bold and flirty.

"Believe it or not, no. I'm used to Alexander, it feels weird being called Alex." He rubbed her shoulder. "You wanna get out of here? Go somewhere a little more relaxing?"

She huffed. "Gosh, you read my mind. It's so stressful here, what with this brilliant view and all the ambiance. I don't know how I've endured it this long." She could be cheeky too.

He grinned, finished off his scotch, and got up, extending a hand to her. She put her wine glass on the table beside the couch and took it with a smile, getting up as well. She wished more than ever she still had those cute heels on.

She noticed though Alexander tipped the staff generously, and even put a wad of cash in the server's hand as "compliments to the chef," a bill never arrived at their table.

"Do you eat here for free? Is that why you said I could have whatever I wanted?" she teased.

"My family dines here all the time." He walked her toward the doors with a hand on her lower back. "We have an account."

She wondered what it was like to be so rich you could go to fancy spinning restaurants overlooking the city and just put it on your tab. Despite that, despite his position and money, he was more laid-back, chill, and down-to-earth than most of the guys she'd met in college.

When they reached the lobby, he offered her his arm, and she took it. It was thick with lean muscle, and she liked putting her hands around it. They walked toward the elevators.

"Why are you in Vegas alone?" He pushed the elevator button. "You didn't have any friends who wanted to come along? Sorry, I've been wanting to ask all night, but I thought it might be rude. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She didn't want to get too deep and bring the mood down, but he seemed genuinely interested. She also didn't want to make something up and have to keep lying.