I’m still not quite sure what our schedule is going to be. I don’t know how we’re going to compromise on much of anything, and since the Aces organization has given me full access to Maverick along with the threat that he’ll be benched if he doesn’t do whatever I say, I suppose I can just do whatever I want.
Task number one is figuring out what that’ll look like.
After I stare out at this view a little while longer.
I can see from the Strat all the way down to Mandalay Bay. It’s the same view Dex has several floors above me, and it’s likely the same view Maverick has next door.
I could stand here all day staring. Vegas isn’t in my blood the way it’s in Dex’s, but the view is gorgeous, and I imagine it borders magical once it gets dark and the lights turn on.
I force myself to turn away.
I need to get to the hotel and grab my suitcase. I need to stop at a store and buy some linens. I need groceries, too. Maybe a one-stop-shop big box retailer kind of place.
I’m about to head out despite my reservations about running into my neighbor when I hear a strange noise.
Thud…thud…thud…
It’s a dull, repetitive sound with a bit of a hum, and I move over toward the wall I share with Maverick.
I would’ve imagined the walls in this gorgeous building are thicker than they are, but as I get closer and put my ear up to the wall, I finally place the sound.
Thud…thud…thud…
It’s the sound of shoes slapping against the belt of a treadmill.
And it’s happening right on the other side of my wall.
The doctor cleared Maverick for light cardio, and he’s on his treadmill the second he gets home. I mean, good for him. Even though I shouldn’t have said it might improve his mood, I meant it.
Knowing he’s on his treadmill at least clears me for walking out of the building without perchance running into him, so I head out to take care of my errands.
Three hours later, it’s all done…except now I have to figure out some way to carry everything I just bought up into my condo.
I texted Dex when I left the store.
Me:Are you home and able to help me unload some stuff from my car?
I have a reply when I put the car in park in the parking garage of the building. I pull into the spot assigned to my condo that’s on the left since a rather large truck is taking up half my space on the right.Someone lives here now, asshole,I think to myself.
Dex:No, sorry. Milton can help.
I head down to the front desk and ask Milton, “Do you have a cart or something I can use to carry a bunch of stuff from my car up to my condo?”
He nods. “I have a cart and these hands.” He smiles as he flexes his fingers.
I grin. “Dex told me to ask you. You’re the best.”
He grabs the cart, and we head to my car, unload everything, and he helps me up to the seventeenth floor with all of it.
“I’ll request Mr. Jennings keep his truck within his lines,” he says, and of course it’s Maverick’s truck lazily parked halfway into one of my spaces. I mean, I don’t need it, but that doesn’t mean he’s entitled to it. “Can I help you unload, ma’am?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I can take it from here if you don’t mind your cart being returned in an hour or so.”
“Of course. Call me when you’re finished so I can come get it.”
“Thanks, Milton,” I say.
As he takes the elevator down, I wonder…am I supposed to tip him? I have no idea how this works. I owned my house in Chicago—which I still do. I didn’t sell it because I didn’t know how permanent this move was going to be.
