Stephen strolled along the sidewalk, with trees on his left running close to Las Vegas Boulevard South and the Fountains of Bellagio on his right.
The music started, and the fountains came to life.
He spotted Jennifer leaning on a column. The lights and water engulfed her attention.
Stephen quietly approached, catching a glimpse of the water and lights reflected in her brown eyes. He slipped his arms around her waist. “Hello, Dr. Grant.”
She clasped her hands behind his neck. “Good evening. Pastor Grant, isn’t it? Imagine meeting you here.”
They kissed, a little more deeply and longer than they would have on the sidewalk of almost any other road in the country.
Jennifer turned back to the fountains, resting the back of her head on Stephen just below his chin. His hands moved around and met at her stomach.
She sighed. “When you think about a casino in the middle of the desert with a manmade lake and a regular fountain show, it seems silly. But when you’re standing here, it really is mesmerizing.”
They listened to Frank Sinatra belt out “Fly Me to the Moon” over the many speakers surrounding the waters.
Stephen added, “Apparently there’s no getting away from Sinatra on this trip.”
Jennifer shrugged. “Hey, it’s Las Vegas. This still is Frank’s town, right?”
“I think it was Dean Martin who said that it’s Frank’s world, we just get to live in it.”
As Sinatra was concluding, “I love ... you,” the fountain waters shot high in the air, and then fell back as the music and lights came to an end.
Pastor Stephen Grant?
Stephen Grant is the pastor at St. Mary’s Lutheran Church on eastern Long Island. Grant is one of the more unique second-career clergy around, as he once worked for the CIA. Besides theology, his interests include archery, golf, writing, classic films, the beach, poker, baseball, and history. Grant also knows his wines, champagnes and brews. Oh yes, he generally dislikes politicians, and happens to be an expert marksman with a handgun and a rifle, while being pretty handy with a combat knife as well.