Hearts in Play

By Dann Darwin

Sometimes love is complicated. Billy, Tamara and Juliette, all in their late 40s, share a sprawling home in Las Vegas in the free and easy days before a pandemic upends the world. Billy is a short-tempered, gambling type who works for a television station as an online journalist. Tamara is an attractive dental hygienist. Juliette serves cocktails on the fast-paced Las Vegas Strip. On the surface, all is well in their polyamorous relationship—until a new suitor emerges to pursue Tamara, and Juliette’s troublesome former boyfriend reappears. With relationships jeopardized and tangled, whose hearts will carry the day?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dann Darwin
• Release date: Nov 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463089637

Dann Darwin

The author, Daniel Behringer in private life, is a long-time resident of Las Vegas. He worked in the newspaper industry for nearly four decades before turning to fiction and longer-form narratives.

Book preview

HEARTS IN PLAY

Dann Darwin

HEARTS IN PLAY

Copyright © 2021 by Dann Darwin. All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.

Cover design by Judy Bullard

CONTENTS

Epigraph

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11

12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22

23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • 29 • 30 • 31 • 32 • 33

34 • 35 • 36 • 37 • 38 • 39 • 40 • 41 • 42 • 43 • 44

45 • 46 • 47 • 48 • 49 • 50 • 51 • 52 • 53 • 54 • 55

56 • 57 • 58 • 59 • 60 • 61 • 62 • 63 • 64 • 65 • 66

67 • 68 • 69 • 70 • 71 • 72 • 73 • 74 • 75 • 76 • 77

78 • 79 • 80 • 81 • 82 • 83 • 84 • 85 • 86 • 87 • 88

89 • 90 • 91 • 92 • 93 • 94 • 95 • 96 • 97 • 98 • 99

100 • 101 • 102 • 103 • 104 • 105 • 106 • 107 • 108 • 109 • 110

Photo Captions

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

A Midsummer Night’s Dream,

Act 3, Scene 2

1

Billy Towlson slips into bed on a wickedly cold Las Vegas night and does something he has been doing regularly for several years. He makes love to Tamara.

He strokes her hair and gently tugs it. He kisses her—softly at first, then more passionately. He caresses her large, oval-shaped breasts and licks her erect nipples. He rolls over on top of her, thrusts into her, and begins a steady, methodical motion, slowly increasing the intensity into a driving rhythm. Tamara responds with barely audible cooing sounds as the wind snaps at the windows.

Even though it’s dark, he imagines that Tamara is looking directly at him as she always does when they make love. Tamara’s eyes are dark and moody like coffee, and Billy always feels as if she is trying to unmask him and explore the darkest recesses of his psyche.

After a few minutes, Billy climaxes and rolls away from Tamara. He breathes deeply for several moments and reaches out to touch her hand.

I love your body, he whispers in her ear.

She doesn’t reply.

After his breathing steadies, Billy kisses Tamara on the cheek. She turns away from him, and Billy believes she is falling asleep. He stares into the blackness for a few moments and listens as the wind howls with renewed ferocity.

Then he does something else he has been doing regularly for some time. He rolls over to the other side of the Alaska king bed and kisses Juliette on the cheek. She appears to be fast asleep and doesn’t notice.

Suddenly weary and drained, he falls into a trance-like sleep.

2

Juliette Creamer’s eyes pop open early the next morning. It’s unusual since Billy or Tamara Romano is usually up first, and they typically wake her to get her moving.

She runs a hand through her short, strawberry blond hair, stretches her arms, and heads for the converted gym down the hall. After limbering up, she begins lifting colorful free weights. About twenty minutes later, she breathes hard and decides to quit.

She walks to the shower, opens the door, and finds she has it to herself.

Shower time is always a surprise. She might find Billy or Tamara. Or both. But the shower is as spacious as a large walk-in closet.

Juliette loves the gym and the cavernous shower. And she revels in the large, upscale home. It exudes solidity and comfort and is a marked change from the thin-walled, two-bedroom apartment in a seedy section of eastern Las Vegas she shared with a troublesome boyfriend. She shudders briefly at the thought of him, the rowdy neighbors, and the frequent whine of police sirens.

She stands under the showerhead that’s as big as a hubcap and lets the soft, warm water cascade over her, lathering up with soap and shampooing her hair before taking a minute to rinse. She is just about to finish when the door opens and Tamara steps in.

Want some company? Tamara asks, the water dampening her olive-toned skin and wavy, walnut brown hair.

Sure do, Juliette says.

They stand under the showerhead for a few seconds, and Juliette massages Tamara’s front and back with soft soap.

You … have … such a wonderful touch, Tamara says as the water streams over her.

Juliette pulls her close and hugs her. Too bad it’s a workday or we could have playtime, she says.

Yeah, too bad, Tamara says. But soon.

They luxuriate in the shower and playfully flick water at each other. After several minutes, they get out and pat each other dry with thick, thirsty towels.

Juliette closes her eyes for a second, breathes deeply, thinking again how much the large house, the converted gym, and the cavernous shower truly feel like home.

I should get my ass in gear, Tamara says. Work and all that.

Uh-huh. Me too, I guess.

You suppose Billy has coffee going?

He damn well better. What else is a man good for, except for, well, the obvious stuff.

Tamara flashes her broad, white smile and laughs.

Let’s go find out, she says.

They dress hurriedly and race downstairs with excited, noisy thumps to find Billy in the kitchen, where a coffee pot bubbles and fills the room with rich smells.

3

Coffee’s on. Good to see everybody up and moving, Billy says. Particularly you, Juliette. Nobody even had to wake you up today.

"Haha. I lovvve my sack time, Juliette says. But I gotta show up at work like everybody else."

Billy warms mugs with water in the microwave, dumps out the water, and pours coffee. Anybody have anything special going on today? Some bagels are lying around here … somewhere if anybody’s hungry.

Just another day ending in Y as far as I’m concerned, Juliette says. But I suspect there will be people looking for a drink when I make my grand appearance at The Mirage.

Brilliant splashes of sunlight fill the large kitchen.

Tamara sips her coffee. You know, she says to Juliette, I’m still amazed you can put on that skimpy little uniform and fetch drinks and coffee and water and whatever for all those people day after day after day.

Sometimes I’m amazed too, Juliette says. "But I’ve been doing it for-ever. Or maybe it just seems like for-ever. And the people are amazing. And funny. And weird."

Billy smiles. Nobody wants a bagel? Okay, well, I’ll help myself, thank you very much, he says, popping two blueberry bagels into a four-slice toaster.

I’m a little ahead of schedule today, Juliette says. Drop a couple of bagels in there for me too.

Done, he says.

And speaking of amazed, Juliette asks, looking at Tamara and downing coffee, I’m amazed you have a job where you stick your hands in peoples’ mouths and scrape the crap off their teeth.

Tamara smiles. You know, I’ve been a dental hygienist just about as long as you’ve been a cocktail server. What’s the saying? ‘It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure.’

Juliette snags the bagels that pop from the toaster almost in mid-air and pokes Billy. So Mr. News Guy, since you asked, what’s on your agenda for today? Anything unusual?

Not sure yet, he says. "Probably be another day ending in Y at the TV station too. We’ll be on the lookout for a hot story, the kind of story that gets a lot of hits, you know, like that mountain lion that was wandering through a Sun City neighborhood over the weekend. That’s the kind of story we need."

He walks to a window and gazes out. Going to be a nice day. Cold but nice. And the wind has died down.

I’ve seriously got to get going, Tamara says. Everybody freaks if I’m a minute late.

Yeah, me too, he says. Time to get a move on.

Juliette butters her last bagel half.

I’ve got a few minutes, actually, she says. I’m going to have a little more coffee before I hit the road.

Billy perks up. Hey. We seriously need to discuss our New Year’s Eve party. Like soon. Like tonight. Maybe after dinner tonight?

Works for me, Tamara says.

Sure, Juliette says.

Okay, he says, heading for the garage. See you all tonight.

See ya, Tamara says.

Bye, Juliette says with a tiny wave.

4

Tamara arrives home in the late afternoon and dives into preparing dinner. She typically has an hour or less before Billy and Juliette come home.

She retrieves romaine lettuce from the refrigerator for a Caesar salad, blends cut pieces of the lettuce and dressing, and delicately tosses the salad. She covers it and slides it into the refrigerator.

She boils the water for fettuccine Alfredo, pours generous amounts of salt into it, and drops the pasta into the pot, stirs it briefly, and lets it boil.

Tamara takes a moment and lets her eyes sweep around the large kitchen like a movie camera. She opens a cabinet door for a bowl and inhales a faint oaky scent.

God, I love our home and the big kitchen, she thinks. It just feels like home. And I so love Billy and Juliette.

She dumps some pasta water into a skillet, whisks in pats of butter, and adds grated Parmesan cheese, priding herself on using only cheese rinds stamped Parmesan.

She darts to the dining room and puts flatware on the table. She inserts cloth napkins into gold-toned napkin holders and places them on the table too. Returning to the kitchen, she uses tongs­, takes the pasta, and drops it into the skillet, adding a dash of pasta water as she stirs.

She hears a garage door open and Billy barges through the back door seconds later.

Hey you, he says, giving her a huge hug. What’s for dinner, and how was your day? Ah shit, I mean, how was your day, and what’s for dinner?

My day was fine, and you’re going to hafta see what’s for dinner, she says, wiping her hands on a small apron.

She leans back like a magician performing a sword-swallowing trick and lets some of the pasta and sauce slither down into her mouth.

Maybe just a tad more salt and cheese, she says to herself.

Another garage door buzzes and Juliette saunters through the back door.

Mmm, smells good. What’s for dinner? she asks.

Cook’s not talking, Billy says, grabbing Juliette and hugging her. Juliette titters, pushes Billy away, and hugs Tamara.

Tamara smiles, eases Juliette away, and whisks a cut-glass vase with fresh flowers onto the dining room table. She spoons three large servings of the fettuccine Alfredo onto fine china and puts them on the table along with a silver basket of warm focaccia bread.

Juliette, if you’ll grab the salad from the refrigerator and add a pinch of Parmesan, I think we’re ready to eat, she says.

Damn, this looks seriously good, Billy says, eyeballing the hot pasta dish.

Yummy, Juliette says.

They eat ravenously.

Anything interesting at work today? Billy asks.

We got a new patient, Tamara says. He plays hockey for that hockey team, the Knights.

The Golden Knights, he says. Vegas Golden Knights.

Yeah, that one, Tamara says. Nice teeth. Very healthy gums.

What position does he play? he asks.

Tamara thinks briefly. Didn’t say. And no, I didn’t ask.

Well, he says. Just another day at the station. We musta sold some ads because we’re still on the air. The website is up too.

Juliette tears loose a strip of focaccia bread and takes a big bite.

Some guy tipped me a hundred dollar black chip today, she says. He was running hot on the craps table. He also tried to pinch me. Asshole.

Billy smirks, but Tamara frowns. You can’t get away with that stuff anymore, she says. Oh, the pasta needs just a dash of pepper.

You know, you’re right, he says, the smirk vanishing. The world’s changing. Even Vegas is changing … in subtle little ways.

He was actually nice, Juliette adds. Except for trying to pinch me.

You don’t have to put up with that crap, Tamara says.

I don’t, and I won’t, Juliette says. But I kept the chip.

Billy nods. You were right about the pepper.

They finish eating. Tamara and Juliette gather up the dishes and load one of the two dishwashers. Billy spreads out on the maroon leather sofa in the family room.

Tamara, Juliette, he calls out. We need to talk about New Year’s Eve when you’re finished.

With the dishwasher purring, Tamara and Juliette join Billy in the family room.

I want our New Year’s Eve party to be an absolute freakin’ blowout this year, he says.

Well, I’ll be cooking up a storm, I can tell you that, Tamara says. There will be some great stuff coming from the kitchen.

Like maybe your cannelloni? Juliette asks.

For sure, Tamara says.

Mmm, Juliette says.

I’m stocking plenty of beer, wine, and mixers, Billy says. Our guests for sure know if they want the hard stuff, they need to bring it themselves. Juliette?

Oh, I know my job, she says. The house will be spotless. Or … mostly spotless. I’ll scrub the floors again and turn Roomba loose. And maybe dust a little too.

Dusting is very definitely needed around here, Tamara says, looking right at Juliette.

It makes me sneeze! Juliette says.

Tamara sniffs. Just do it.

Billy waves his hand in admonishment.

Okay, okay. It’s our second year for this party, he says and smiles. "The party was your idea, Juliette, and you deserve the credit for that. But it is a lot of work."

I just wanted to celebrate with my friends, she says. And with all your friends. And I’ve got the seniority at The Mirage to get the day off, and if you don’t use it, what the hell good is it? Like they say, life is too short.

We’re only going to work a half-day on New Year’s Eve, Tamara says. So I can spend some quality time in the kitchen in the afternoon.

Billy nods.

A regular working day for me. You know what Vegas is like on New Year’s Eve. But I’ve got a crew at the station working late, and I can skip out a little early. So I’m good. I just want to do this party right. And see people happy. And go home happy. Us too, of course, he adds with a grin. Especially us. I want us to be very happy.

Tamara smiles. I’m always happy when I’m home and around people I love and adore.

Goes double for me, Juliette says. Make it triple.

Billy grins. Good. Let’s make it one helluva party.

5

Neighborhood flags snap, and lanyards clank in a blustery wind on New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas. The skies radiate cobalt blue, and the temperature hovers in the fifties.

A few slate-colored clouds meander in during the late afternoon as Billy and Juliette greet guests at the front door of their sprawling home in northwest Las Vegas. The stream of people is small at first but quickly turns into a tide. Nearly all arrive bearing a small dish or dessert. A few tote bulky liquor bottles.

Great to see you—Happy New Year, Billy says to people he knows. He introduces himself to people he doesn’t recognize who are friends of Tamara or Juliette.

You can wipe your feet over here, Juliette says politely to arriving guests, pointing out a bristly new doormat.

Tamara commands the kitchen, pours herself an oversized glass of wine, and organizes all the guests’ dishes as they arrive.

Go ahead and help yourself, she says to people hungrily eyeballing her warm dishes of cannelloni. And be sure to come back for seconds.

About eight o’clock, Billy leaves the front door and lets guests mingle, eat, and drink. He walks upstairs to a landing so he can take in the scene. Juliette spies him overlooking the party and walks upstairs to join him.

It’s a total blast, she says.

Yeah, he says. A pretty darn fine party, two years in a row. Think maybe we should have brought in a small combo or trio or something?

Oh no, she says. Too much noise. Just great people and good food are all we need.

He gazes at the crowd. Yeah, you’re right.

"I’m star-ving, she says. Let’s go down and get something to eat."

That’s a deal, he says. I’m ready for some of Tamara’s cannelloni.

Me too, she says.

They amble downstairs and into the kitchen. He loads a plate with cannelloni, duchess potatoes, and a fat mound of cranberry relish. He glances at a kitchen counter where guests’ liquor bottles are strewn about haphazardly.

Based on my completely unscientific survey, more people are drinking the hard stuff this year, he says, turning to Tamara.

"What-ever, she says. I’m ready for a break. And I’m hungry too."

Fix yourself a plate and go relax, he says, touching her forearm gently. I’ll staff the kitchen.

You got a deal, Tamara says.

A woman Billy vaguely recognizes as one of Juliette’s friends wanders into the kitchen with a nearly empty wine glass.

Are you the bartender? she asks.

I can be if necessary, he says.

I need a refill, the woman says.

That’s doable. What are you drinking?

Wine. But I don’t remember … what kind.

He grins. Tell you what. Why don’t you try some Pinot Grigio? From my, uh, private collection. I’ll get you a fresh glass.

That sounds good, the woman says brightly.

I remember you from last year, he says. You’re one of Juliette’s friends. You’re, you’re …

Sherry.

Yeah. Sherry.

He smiles and reaches into the refrigerator for an unopened bottle of Pinot Grigio. He finds a fresh glass and pours a generous amount.

Thanks, she says. I really do love your place. It seems so … homey and comfortable.

You’re very kind, he says. We put a lot of work into it.

May I have a tour?

A tour?

Yeah, you know, show me around. Juliette’s told me a little, but I’d like to see it for myself. In person.

Well, this here is the kitchen. We give Tamara pretty much free rein here.

They weave through the living room, where small knots of people chatter and drink.

Yo, Billy, someone shouts out as they walk by. Great party, dude.

Thanks, man, he hollers back.

They walk up the stairs.

So this is the gym, he says, pointing out the converted bedroom that houses a treadmill, elliptical machine, and neatly organized racks of silver-toned free weights and colorful lighter weights.

I basically turned a spare room into a place where we can work out, he says. Plus Tamara and Juliette still have their own rooms. And we have an extra bedroom downstairs just in case.

Juliette’s mentioned a little about the bedroom. And the bathroom, she says. Mind if I take a quick peek?

He smiles. Okay, this would be the master bedroom, he says after they walk down a hall. The bath and bedroom obviously connect.

Sherry’s eyes bulge. That bed is freakin’ huge. Wow.

Alaska king. Special order, he says. I had some guys tear apart the bathroom, rebuild it, and expand the shower. It’s something we all enjoy, he says, nodding to the gray-tiled, walk-in shower area.

So I’ve heard, she says.

He smiles. You wanna see the terrace? Great view.

Sure, she says.

They walk outside and gaze at the twinkling sea of lights stretching to the end of the valley. A sharp gust kicks up and buffets them.

Nice. But I like the bedroom. And the big shower, she says.

She shivers. Also, it’s cold out here. Can we go back?

Of course, he says.

They walk inside, and she perches on the edge of the bed.

You have quite the setup here, don’t you? she says.

He smiles again. Everyone seems to be happy for the most part, he says as whoops and hollers erupt from the lower level. Hey, you hear that noise? We better head downstairs and make sure everyone is behaving themselves.

She sighs. Oh-kay, if you say so.

C’mon. Let’s go.

They walk downstairs and join a frenzied crowd ratcheting up the noise.

Almost midnight, Tamara says, appearing out of a throng of people. And time for our champagne toast.

Great, he says. Bust out the champagne and the glasses.

She returns to the kitchen and splashes Cook’s Champagne into fluted glasses as partiers queue up.

The crowd retreats to the living room with their filled glasses. After a moment of uneasy quiet, Billy glances at his watch and raises his glass. He looks around at the faces in the crowd and loudly proclaims, Happy freakin’ 2019!

Refrains of Happy New Year reverberate through the house, and a few people blaze away on their cell phone cameras. Sherry appears out of the crowd, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses Billy on the cheek, much to his bemusement.

After a few minutes, the party’s energy fizzles. Guests grab their sweaters and jackets from a bedroom and vanish into the night with more greetings of Happy New Year.

Billy wanders back to the kitchen, where Tamara and Juliette survey the damage.

That was quite a party, Tamara says.

And quite a mess, Juliette adds.

He sighs. Okay. You know the drill. We clean it all up before we go to bed.

He unfurls several giant black trash bags for the debris. Tamara begins loading plates and glasses into the two dishwashers. Juliette lugs out a mop, fills a bucket with pine-scented cleaner, and swishes the mop across the ceramic tile floor.

Seems like I just did this, Juliette mutters.

What was that? he asks.

Nothing, she says.

He chortles. You’ll feel better when it’s all clean again. We’ll all feel better.

They finish in about an hour. Tamara pushes the start button on both dishwashers, and they walk up the stairs to the bedroom.

Billy steps into the oversized shower to quickly clean up, and he climbs into bed, settling comfortably between Tamara and Juliette.

As long as nothing changes, this is totally living the dream, he thinks before falling asleep. As long as nothing changes.

6

Billy wakes early the next morning and glances at the clock near the bed, watching it alternate flashing the date, 1-1, in blue digital numerals with the time.

He smiles. The elegant simplicity of 1-1.

A new day, a new year, a new beginning, and new opportunities, he thinks.

He crawls carefully out of bed without waking Tamara or Juliette and wanders downstairs.

The house is quiet except for the deep sound of a distant barking dog. Everything is pristine and spotless after the previous night’s cleanup. The squeaky cleanliness of the ceramic tile teases his bare feet with a cool sensation.

He cracks open one of the two loaded dishwashers and begins putting glassware in the cupboard. When he finishes, he opens the second dishwasher and starts putting dishware in its place.

He reminds himself how pleased he is for having the two high-end dishwashers installed in the remodeled kitchen and wonders if he should have installed a third one on the kitchen island. Even though a contractor and his crew did the actual work, he invested money and hours of planning in the kitchen remodel. He is particularly proud of finding and helping install a sixty-four-inch refrigerator he ordered online.

He finishes unloading the dishwashers and hears padded footsteps. He suspects they are Tamara’s since she is usually the second person awake. She walks up behind him, hugs him, and confirms his suspicions.

Happy New Year, she says.

Happy 1-1 to you, he says. She doesn’t respond. He adds, 1-1. January 1st.

Yeah, yeah, I get it. You want some help?

Good timing. Almost done. You want coffee?

Yes, please. Coffee, she says, rubbing her eyes. Must have coffee.

Billy fires up the coffee maker and warms two large white mugs with water in the microwave. When the coffee finishes bubbling, he dumps the water from the warmed mugs, fills them with coffee, and sets the mugs on the island.

Excited about the new year? he asks.

Not really, she says, yawning. I mean, the calendar rolls over and it’s January again, but what does that really mean?

Ya gotta admit, it’s a helluva excuse for a party.

I guess. But so what?

He pauses. I think it’s a cool day. 1-1. A new beginning.

Yeah, maybe, she says distractedly.

He pauses again.

Something on your mind? he asks.

She sips her coffee tentatively. Maybe. Possibly.

The doctor is in.

I’ve been thinking, she says.

Uh-oh, he says, grinning.

She shoots him a pouty look. You know I’m happy here. I love our home and this big kitchen. I always wanted a home with a big kitchen. And now … I’ve got one.

Even better, you’ve got me. And Juliette, he says, grinning again.

Of course. She reaches over to hug him again. I love you both very much.

Her robe slips open, and he gazes at her partially exposed breasts. She sees him looking and tightens the belt. He smiles broadly and sips his coffee.

"I don’t think I ever told you this. But the reason I bought this house and tore apart the kitchen and put in two dishwashers and tore apart the bathroom and converted a bedroom into a gym was because I was expecting to meet someone like you, he says. And then I did. It worked out perfectly, just the way I thought it would. And then we met Juliette too."

Yeah. It’s pretty damn perfect, all right.

He puts down his coffee mug. So what’s causing your mind to work overtime? he asks.

Sometimes, I just imagine a family where things are more … normal, like a real couple.

Oh, you mean like just you and Juliette? I see couples like that around these days.

Stop. You know what I mean.

He thinks briefly. "We have