55th Floor

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We passed Jaron and Evan who were standing guard by our private elevator. Adam told them to stay where they were, since we would be coming back up before he had to leave for his show

"How about Alizé?" Adam suggested while we were in the elevator. "It's this French place over in the Ivory Tower. And it's been rated the most romantic restaurant in Vegas multiple times."

"Okay," I said, slipping my hand into his. The elevator dinged open and heads turned our way, (probably more interested in who was coming from the penthouse more than actually recognizing us,) and for once I wasn't shy. I smiled and flirted, absolutely enthralled with my boyfriend and eager to show him off.

Adam had pulled out his phone to answer a text then quickly pocketed it without a word.

We walked over to the Ivory instead of taking the Maybach, and it was luckily cooling off as the sun began to set. Now it was my turn for some selfies. Adam pulled off a flawless pouty face, looking as perfect as ever. I actually didn't look too bad either. I snapped a few more pics at the surrounding buildings, as well as a few awesome sports cars, then posted them on-line.

"The Glambert's will appreciate that." I said.

"That, or they'll want to rip you apart from jealously." Adam snickered. I elbowed him.

"Be nice! Although I guess if I didn't know you personally and was just a fan I'd probably die a little."

We entered the Ivory Tower and took the elevator up to the 55th floor, just a floor below the famous Ghostbar. I knew Adam wouldn't be leaving Vegas without getting a drink from there first.

"A, we don't have reservations," I whispered.

"We don't need them. Friends in high places, remember?"

After a few words with the maitre-de and a scan of our room card, we were brought to a secluded table set a bit apart from the rest of the diners. Adam pulled out my chair for me and pushed it in. I always got worried when guys did that, mostly because I was terrified of sitting and missing the chair or some horrible thing like that, but there was no catastrophe, thank goodness. Adam's manners and suave charisma never failed to amaze me. But then again, I knew his family well and his parents would never had let him skimp out on etiquette, whether he was a glam rock star who dated guys or not.

The waiter, dressed in a tux, took our orders. Adam ordered a white wine and I had some sort of non-alcoholic spritzer along with my water.

With one look at the menu, I was lost.

"Uh. Where are the pictures?" I asked, letting out a breath.

Adam grinned. "Sorry, babe. I think I can figure this out... I went to a lot French and Finish places with S-" He stopped, sucking in his cheeks before starting again. "Um, if not you can just ask. Or Google it."

I nodded but said nothing else. It didn't bother me that he was about to say "Sauli," after all, Sauli had been my friend too. If he was avoiding it because it was painful, then I could totally understand, but if it was for my sake, it kind of annoyed me. It made me feel like we were having an affair.

After the awkward tension was gone, I asked Adam what the Foie Gras Terrine was: Smoked duck & artichoke crepe, orange marmalade, candied pecans, and basil. That sounded pretty dang good, and I'd never had duck before, so I decided on that.

He ordered the Roasted Abalone Mushroom, which had garlic pastina galette, mango confiture, and Tamarind glaze. He was still on his vegetarian kick.

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