excerpt for Las Vegas Honeymoon

"Damn it, I don't care. It's my honeymoon, I'll go if I want to." The words Mary Franks told her mother after she called off the wedding came back in the melody of the old Leslie Gore song. And here she was, in Las Vegas, all by herself.

"Good call," she grumbled.

Mary, Never-To-Be-Mrs.-Ralph-Nugent, stood at the airport luggage carousel with a tear in her eye. The first bags started down the shoot. Down the shoot, just like her would-be marriage.

The flight had given her plenty of time to consider what she was doing, and the seat beside her, which hadn't held Ralph, emphasized how all of her plans for two of them wouldn't be coming true. The empty seat had matched her empty feeling inside.

She was fighting back sniffles when she heard, "What do you mean you gave away my room and there aren't any others?"

Looking around, she saw the back of a tall man with a cell phone to his ear.

"All right," he said, "see what you can do and I'll be there as soon as I can."

The man turned, a scowl marring his handsome face. A familiar handsome face. Oh, no. The last thing she wanted was to see someone she knew. Not when she was nearly crying. Not when she'd been cheated on, almost literally, at the altar.

He spoke first. "Hi." His eyes crinkled as he studied her. "I know you, don't I?"

The voice combined with bright blue eyes and cleft chin brought back memories of a time in her life she'd tried hard to forget. But she could never forget him, had never wanted to. Dan Higgins was both the last man she wanted to see and the man she most wanted to see. She hated being at such a low point, but then Dan had been her savior before. His presence now made her feel a bit better.

"It's Mary Franks." She watched the look of disbelief cross his face as his gaze traveled up and down her body in a quick inspection. This was the reaction she got from anyone she'd known in high school, where she'd weighed a good seventy pounds more than she did now.

His eyes crinkled in a smile. "Mary Franks! My God, you look fabulous." He crushed her in a hug, then leaned back, hands on her shoulders, and examined her face. "It's been a hell of a long time."

"You're right. And you look good, too." He did. He'd always been the typical tall, dark and handsome. His looks had kept girls relentlessly trailing after him in school, and boosted his reputation as an unrepentant playboy before he'd reached the age of sixteen. Mary had dreamed about him, just as every other girl in Freeman High had, but her weight and insecurities had held her back from ever showing it. If their mothers hadn't been good friends, she'd never have known Dan at all. "Of course," she continued, "you always did. Unlike me."

"You were always pretty but you didn't see it."

Neither did anyone else. Dan's words brought to mind all those evenings at home when her mother would pile mashed potatoes on her plate and assure her that she was beautiful no matter what her weight, because beauty came from the inside. Except no one ever got past the outside. She'd had lots of lonely, dateless Saturday nights to prove it. Days long past weren't what she wanted to discuss with Dan in the middle of an airport. She changed the subject. "Why are you in Las Vegas?"

"My company has their annual conference here." He grinned and to her chagrin, her heart flipped exactly as it had years ago. "It gives our clients an excuse to come to Las Vegas and write it off. How about you? Are you visiting or coming home? If you live here, I swear you could be a show girl."

"I'm here on my honeymoon," She blurted out. Saying the words aloud brought tears to her eyes again. Damn! When would she be able to stop thinking of that scumbag without crying? She swiped at the moisture with her fingertips, hoping the crowd that had formed at the luggage carousel didn't notice.

A frown crossed Dan's face. Bags had started falling regularly, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, he raised her left hand, now bare. She'd dropped the diamond solitaire into the poor box before leaving the church, and of course, Ralph had never gotten the chance to slip the plain gold band they'd chosen onto her finger. How different things could have been if Ralph had remembered the "…cleave only unto Mary…" part of the vows before they were married.

"Aren't you missing a few things? Like a husband, a ring, a smile? Or is all that coming down the baggage carousel with your luggage?"

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