In Her Best Friend's Bed. J. Margot Critch

eh?” Abby asked him in a playful tone.

      “Don’t be too impressed,” he told her as they stepped inside the elevator car. “It’s only because I’m very important,” he assured her, his voice deadpan, as he pushed the button to bring them to the rooftop.

      Abby laughed, the soft, breathy sound filling the inside of the small elevator as it began its ascent.

      Trevor watched her in the mirrored glass that covered the interior. Abby, however, was watching the numbers as they quickly climbed the floors to the top, but when she looked at the mirror and saw him staring at her, their reflections locked eyes. The only noise beside their breaths was the chime as the elevator announced that they had reached the rooftop.

      The elevator doors pulled apart, revealing the open rooftop bar. Trevor could picture all of the people who would flock to Swerve just for the opportunity to be seen here and take in the view. He escorted Abby over to a high railing on the far side. The 360-degree view of the lights of the Las Vegas Strip, and of downtown in the distance, took his breath away. So far he had only seen the bar in the daylight. He was impressed then, but at night it was spectacular. The white leather furniture they walked past was sleek and crisp. And the dance floor, which would soon be filled with bodies moving to pulsing beats, was elevated and would be lit from below. He could only imagine the rush that would accompany dancing so high above the streets of one of the world’s hottest party spots.

      Trevor and Abby stopped at the railing and neither spoke as they took in the view. They could see the people and the revelers milling about below, but, being so high up, they could hear nothing in the silence of the empty rooftop. Despite the fact that they were in Las Vegas, the late-fall air at night held a slight chill, and he saw the small bumps rise on the skin of Abby’s back. He shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

      She pulled it closed over her chest. “Thanks.” She hesitated. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for letting me work at the bar. I really appreciate it.”

      “The pleasure is all mine,” he said with a shake of his head. Her features were highlighted by the glow of the moon. She looked beautiful. “Any luck on the job front?”

      She shook her head. “Big, fat goose egg,” she told him, making an O with her thumb and forefinger. “I’ve got résumés out, had a couple of interviews, but nada.”

      “You’ll find something,” he assured her. He knew it was true, and it made him sad that he would soon be without her. “I know you won’t be working with me forever, but it’s nice to have you there. You’re a natural behind the bar.”

      “Yeah, I can really pour a drink with the best of them,” she scoffed.

      Trevor frowned at her tone. He knew that she didn’t take the job as seriously as she would the marketing career she dreamed of. He wished that she understood that bartending wasn’t just about pouring beer and twirling a cocktail shaker. To be successful, one had to possess an innate quality that few people could claim to have. Most people could be good at bartending. But one had to be kind, personable, tough, funny, organized, dexterous and quick in order to be great. And she was. Abby’s quick dismissal of the profession cut him to the quick and, even though he managed one of the hippest and most successful clubs in Montreal, it made him feel like a glorified bar boy.

      “Hey, are you okay over there?” she asked him, breaking into his thoughts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet or contemplative.”

      “Yeah, sure.” He shook his head, dispelling the melancholy that had overtaken him. His smile was smooth. “I like your dress.”

      Abby looked down at herself and smoothed a hand down her front, over her flat stomach. Trevor’s eyes followed it intensely. “This old thing?” she laughed. “With the back, and the slit, I thought it might be a bit too much for tonight.”

      “Anything goes in Vegas,” he offered with a smile.

      “It sure does. What’s the old saying? ‘What happens in Vegas—’”

      “‘Stays in Vegas.’ Yeah,” he finished for her and trailed off. They watched the lights and the action on the street below them. He heard her dress rustle and he felt her shift closer to him, until they were touching, side by side. He looked at his hands grasping the railing, and he saw her fingers slide across it, creeping until they touched his. The same electric current he’d felt earlier, when he’d had his hand on her back, jolted from her fingers to his.

      He turned away from the railing to face her, and he brought his hand to rest lightly on her hip, ushering her closer to him, until they were almost pressed together. Her breasts grazed his chest and he tensed, his hand roamed under the jacket to settle once again on her bare lower back. This time, he wasn’t about to pull away from her. He looked down at Abby, unable to take his eyes away from her parted lips. He wanted to kiss her more than anything.

      Trevor heard nothing but the faint notes of music that flittered up to them from below. He leaned in and brought his lips to hers, barely skimming them, just enough to get the smallest taste, but Trevor wanted more, and he took her bottom lip between his own, and he barely heard it when someone called out to him. He jerked back quickly, away from Abby, and they turned to the newcomer. Trevor cursed when he saw that it was Jamie, whose hand was tightly clasped in Maya’s.

      “There you guys are,” he said and turned to Trevor. “I should have known I’d find you up here.”

      “And you did,” Trevor responded. It seemed Jamie was oblivious to what they had interrupted, but one look at Maya’s raised eyebrow told him that she didn’t miss much. “What’s up?”

      Jamie’s smile was sheepish. “I, uh, just wanted to show Maya the view up here at night.”

      Trevor laughed. “Sure.” He was skeptical that the view was the only thing Jamie wanted to show Maya. “It really is something else, though.”

      Jamie chuckled at Trevor’s doubt, clapped his palm on Trevor’s shoulder. “Sorry we haven’t been able to talk all night, man. Lots of hands to shake.”

      “No problem,” Trever said. “I get it. It’s been a crazy night for you. How are you holding up?”

      “Honestly, I’m exhausted,” Jamie replied, dragging a hand through his dark hair. He threw a glance at Maya. “We might take off.”

      “You’re leaving your own party?” Abby asked.

      “Yeah, I’ve already spoken to everyone I needed to,” Jamie explained. “We need to hit the sack. It’s been a big day.”

      “And I repeat—sure...” Trevor smirked at his friend. He knew Jamie was going to bed with his new fiancée, but he doubted that either of them would be getting much sleep.

      “It’s been a long day,” Maya concurred, unable to pry her eyes away from Jamie’s face.

      Abby nodded, clearly unconvinced, as well. “Uh-huh.”

      “You both suck,” Jamie said, laughing and looking back and forth between Trevor and Abby. “Anyway, we’re leaving. But would you guys like to get breakfast tomorrow morning before your flight home?”

      “Yeah, sure.” Trevor nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

      “Me, too,” Abby responded.

      “Great. Let’s meet at the café here in the hotel. Around eleven o’clock?”

      Trevor and Abby both nodded in agreement, and they watched as Maya pulled Jamie away from them, into the elevator and most definitely down to their penthouse suite. Before Trevor knew it, he and Abby were once again alone.

      Abby was first to speak. She exhaled a breath. “You know, I should be getting to bed, too.” She let out a yawn that Trevor knew was forced. But he walked her to the elevator and they waited for the car that would take them down.

      When they got to the main floor, he escorted her to the