Feels Like the First Time. Tawny Weber

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      “Dexter.”

      And there was a voice that never inspired the urge to escape. With a reluctant grin, he turned to face the elderly woman.

      “Nana, I thought you were fleecing Vegas of its riches,” he said as he bent in half to hug his tiny grandmother. The frailty under his hands was an illusion, he knew. Essie Drake was the strongest woman in the world.

      “Vegas was rigged,” she said with a sniff. Still in her travel wear—a tracksuit of some fuzzy red fabric—her white hair in curls and her gold-rimmed bifocals, she should have looked like Mrs. Claus. Except she was too small, skinny and if Dex were honest, naughty, to be that sainted lady. Instead, Nana looked like a mischievous elf who’d put saltpeter in Santa’s cocoa and graffiti the sleigh.

      She was his favorite person. His absolute champion. And the biggest pain in his butt. But any irritation was worth having her in his corner.

      His parents had never understood his fascination with video games. They’d always figured it was a bad habit he’d outgrow. They’d been thrilled that he’d gone to college. Although his father said he’d only ponied up the funds for Dex’s college expenses so that his son could earn big money and support the family business after graduation. That those expenses had been trivial considering Dex had a full-ride scholarship didn’t negate the expectation in the slightest. No surprise that when, eight years ago, he’d decided to drop out of college and pursue his passion, his parents had thrown a fit.

      But Nana? She’d cheered and urged him to strike out on his own. Her faith and encouragement supporting him, he’d combined graphic-design skills he’d learned in school, his computer obsession and the vivid imagination he’d always hidden for fear of being teased. The results, a highly successful career as a video-game designer. As a nod to his father’s worries—and his own self-consciousness at sharing his creative side—Dex had designed under a pseudonym, since his first game had featured—and mocked—the small Idaho town that his father’s ancestors had founded. Because of his discretion, and his Nana’s unwavering championship, his parents had eventually tolerated his career choice enough to let him come home for the holidays. The buckets of money he’d made hadn’t hurt either. Funny how money had a way of paving the way with people. All his life, the impression of money had opened doors. Friends, invitations, opportunities to hang with the in crowd.

      Only Zoe hadn’t cared about what he had. She’d simply accepted him for himself, not for what she could get out of him. Which brought the number of people who did to a grand total of two. Zoe and Nana.

      “Is your sweetie here yet?” his grandmother asked, looking around the lobby. “Did I miss her?”

      “Is that why you’re back early? Another matchmaking game? Look, Nana, I don’t have a sweetie. I’m just here to help out Mom and Dad before I get too busy.”

      Nana shook her head, a look of censure in her bright-blue eyes. “Dexter, I have the sight. I see you and your sweetheart hooking up soon.”

      Dex’s jaw dropped. “Hooking up? Where do you come up with these things?”

      He skipped right over the “sight” comment. Nana thought she was psychic. She claimed to have precognitive dreams and carried around a tarot deck. Much to his parents’ chagrin, she liked to set up a table in the hotel lobby and offer readings to gullible guests. Recently Nana had taken her dreams on the road, attempting to supplement her retirement income by hitting the jackpot. So far, she’d had three trips to Vegas and five to Reno, and the most she’d won was a huge stuffed monkey dressed like Liberace.

      “Admit it, you’re here to find your one true love,” his grandmother nagged, tucking her hand around his arm so he could lead her out the back door toward her cottage in the private grounds.

      Zoe’s image popped into his mind. But it wasn’t love his imagination was interested in, given that she was naked and spread out over his bed.

      “No true love, Nana. I don’t have time.” Or more to the point, love didn’t have time for him. Dex had tried to fall in love, he’d really wanted to believe in the sweet myth of unconditional emotions. But love, like his childhood, had always come with a price: money, favors, connections.

      Nana sniffed and stuck out her narrow chin. “Love doesn’t happen on a schedule, you know. You’d do well to find her this week, before you risk everything in this crazy scheme of yours.”

      “I thought you liked gambling,” was all he said. He’d heard all the reasons his family didn’t want him to go through with his plans. Four generations of Drakes had run this hotel and it was now on his shoulders to keep it in the family. His parents would tolerate him not directly working in the building, but family tradition demanded that he help keep the business afloat in these hard economic times. Blah blah blah.

      But when this vacation ended next Monday, he’d make the biggest change of his adult life. He was leaving his well-paying job at Leeton Games and putting all his resources toward starting his own company. Years of dreaming, months of planning, and it was time to make his move. A familiar mantle of nerves settled on his shoulders and Dex tried to shrug it off. After all, the money didn’t worry him much. Nor did the risk, even though it was a huge one given that the guy who’d drawn up his business plan and who was supposed to sign on as his manager had backed out, citing worries over having to start a company without being able to use Dex’s main claim to fame. His pseudonym.

      But Dex had an agreement with Leeton Games. When he’d started there, the pseudonym had been his idea, but the notoriety it had built over the years had garnered the company a lot of accolades. In return for relinquishing all claims to the name and keeping silent for three years, they’d pay him enough money to give him a healthy cushion for a year to get his business going.

      Dex had enough faith in his skills, his talents, to know that the computer-graphics company would take off.

      But it was a damned shame his alter ego, Gandalf, had to be thrown on to the sacrificial pyre in the name of insurance.

      D“ID YOU FIND Gandalf yet?” Meghan asked over the speaker-phone. Her words were impatient, her tone the equivalent of an irritated shove in the small of Zoe’s back.

      Zoe paused in the act of unpacking to shake her head at the phone. “I’ve been here an hour, Meg. It’s not like the guy is going to be wearing a sign or anything. The biggest companies in video gaming have tried to find his identity for years now and failed. But you think all I have to do is saunter into the hotel and poof, there he’ll be? I’m good, but not quite that good.”

      “If anyone can do it, you can,” Meghan insisted. “But you have to talk to people. You know that, right? Did you ask around or did you register then beeline to your room to hide?”

      “I talked, I asked. I’m trying, okay?” Zoe’s irritated tone was in strong contrast to the underlying panic in her sister-in-law’s voice. Zoe sucked in a breath and tried for calm. “Don’t stress so much, okay? If the guy is here, I’ll find out.” Zoe recalled the twin’s assertion about Teresa Roberts, but dismissed the idea. Gandalf had to be a guy.

      “What’s your first step? What’re you doing tonight?”

      Zoe winced. She’d been hoping Meghan wouldn’t ask that. She hated I-told-you-so moments. Hoping to avoid this one, she talked fast. “I figured I’d hang out in my room tonight. You know, do a little online research, touch base with a few people in the industry and see if they have any leads. And I still need to figure СКАЧАТЬ