What Stays in Vegas (13 page)

“Everything will be okay,”  I said at last, relying on the old standard.  I became slightly braver and ventured on.  “Signing those papers will be the best thing you’ve ever done, you know.  And better that it happened now, instead of ten years down the road when you had kids and stuff.  Besides, this whole house is
yours,
Ken.  The house, the car, everything in it.  Todd’s nothing without you.  He’s screwed.”

“Yeah, by Carlotta!” She burst into a fresh set of tears and sniffles.  Something dripped onto my shoulder and she mopped it off me with a bar towel.  “I’m sorry, look at me, I’m turning you into a soggy mess.” 

“It’s okay,” I said.  “It’s good to let it out.  I knew something was up anyway when I saw the junk you were watching on TV.”  I pulled a bottle of raspberry vodka from the shelf and poured us two shots.  “Here, let’s have some of this.”  I raised my glass.  “To your new life and our hot dates.  You didn’t forget about them did you?”  She giggled and shook her head.  Then we downed them. 

Kendra wiped her eyes with the same bar towel she had used to mop the tears and snot off my shoulder.  We stood up and brushed ourselves off.

“Ready?” I asked.

"Ready," said Kendra.

Two champagne glasses on the shelf behind the bar, inscribed with the words “Congratulations Kendra & Todd,” must have caught her eye, because with one swift movement they were both smashed against the wall.

Kendra smiled with satisfaction as we stepped over the pile of shattered glass and headed out into the night.

The MGM Grand hotel is without a doubt the largest structure that I have ever been inside.  Even when you are completely sober, it is a labyrinth of casinos, restaurants, and shops that seem to scroll along beside you in an endless loop.  If you’ve already had a Long Island Iced Tea and a vodka shot you may as well just give yourself up for lost. 

“Haven’t you been to this club before?”  I asked as we passed by lingerie clad blackjack dealers for the third time.  That is one section of the casino you don’t forget.  

“Just a couple of times,” she said.  “And not once was I in my right mind.”  She veered me to the left, almost into a passing group of college guys who looked us up and down and whistled.

“Please tell me you guys are dentists,”  I said to them as we passed.  One of them turned and walked backwards for a few steps.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be!”  he yelled, arms outstretched.

“Aw, did you hear that?”  I said to Kendra.  “He’ll be whatever I want him to be!  Why couldn’t you have run into
them
at Finnegan’s?”  I gave a few more glances and smiles over my shoulder before Kendra yanked me off to the right and we found ourselves at the entrance to the club.  If we had only taken a left instead of a right when we had come in the main lobby we would have found it in about three minutes, rather than taking the grand tour.  My heels were already starting to hurt.

Since we were half an hour too early to meet our man friends, and I was not willing to walk around a second longer to look for another bar to wait at, we paid our own cover charge and went into the club.  We also reluctantly paid for our own first round of drinks and took a seat at a table, keeping an eye out for our dates
as people slowly filtered in.
 

We had only been seated a few minutes when my phone began vibrating and Nick's name appeared on the screen.  He'd been texting me all day, and he didn't quite sound like himself.  Mostly he had been saying things about how he wished I had told him my feelings sooner, that maybe things would have been different between us.  I didn't exactly know how to respond to that.  I mean, was three years not enough time for him to figure out that I had feelings for him, and that maybe he felt the same way about me?  All the opportunities he had over the years, did it really take a drunken text message, asking what he was wearing, for things to finally click?

Frankly, the more serious our texts and email became, the more Nick was starting to annoy me.  I was starting to wish I had never initiated any of this flirtation, and after witnessing Kendra’s meltdown tonight I was starting to feel a lot like the loathed Carlotta.  I
had become the other woman in my best friend's marriage.

I tried to cancel out the damage I had done by texting back neutral responses, and encouraging him to work things out with Megan instead of dwelling on what could have been.  But he didn't seem to want to take the hint.  I ignored his most recent text and was debating shutting off my phone entirely, when a message came through that wasn’t from Nick.  It was from Chris.

“Chris?”  I said out loud.

“Brewer?”  asked Kendra.

I looked up at her from the glow of my cell phone, regretting that I had said the name out loud.  “Uh, yeah. I just got a text from him.  I wonder what he wants?”

“You're such a little vixen,” she said.  “You’ve been here a month and already have the guys wrapped around your finger.” 

“Oh, please,” I said.  “It’s not like that.  This is
Chris
we’re talking about.  Last week I saw him drinking out of a Spiderman thermos bottle.”  I opened up his message, which was actually three messages:

2 girls found dead on the strip

Suspects r 2 middle-aged psycho dentists

If you know of their whereabouts call police ASAP

I laughed and was about to show it to Kendra when she started waving madly across the bar, as if the QE2 was leaving port.

“They’re here!”  she squealed, jumping out of her seat.

Striding towards us in a white linen button-up shirt and dark jeans, was the one and only Bryce Storm.  I recognized him from television the moment I saw him, and I must admit it was very exciting.  I could practically smell the money wafting towards me from across the room as visions of a life of luxury flashed before my eyes.  His hair was graying, but his face was tanned and unwrinkled, giving him that young-man-with-gray hair look that I have always kind of enjoyed.

My fantasy, however, came to a cymbal crashing halt when I tore my eyes away from Bryce and finally noticed the man standing by his side.  The man with a million dollar smile and a penchant for one too many rum and Cokes.  Tooth Model.

“Hey!” cooed Kendra, giving Bryce a full body hug.  “Good to see you again!  This is my friend Tessa.”  She motioned to me with her arm as if I were the next item up for bid on The Price is Right.  The look on Tooth Model’s face was priceless.  

“Long time no see, huh?”  I said.  Tooth Model leaned in for a hug, which I gingerly returned.  He still smelled like an alcoholic.

“You two know each other?”  asked Kendra.

“We were seat mates on the plane," said Tooth Model.  He eyed me up and down. "Can you believe it?"

I wondered if he remembered asking me to join the mile high club.  I felt a little bit of my martini come back up into my mouth.

“No way!” said Kendra.  “What a small world!” 

“Super small,” I mumbled.  "So, Bryce was your famous dentist friend, huh?" 

"I had a feeling you didn't believe me," said Tooth Model smugly.  "Maybe now we can get to know each other a little better?"  He turned the maraschino cherry he had in his mouth over with his tongue and flicked it out at me.

I turned to Kendra for help, but she was already swaying her hips to the music and running her hand up and down Bryce’s arm.  I knew it was only a matter of time before she pulled him onto the dance floor and left me to fend for myself.  Not that I could blame her.  I reminded myself that she was going through a tough time and that it was my job to be her wingman.  If there was any chance of her sipping drinks at a swim-up bar in Jamaica with Bryce Storm, I needed to do my part to make it happen.   That thought did not keep me from cringing when the next song to come on was the bikini car wash video we had been watching at the house. 

“Oh my God!  I love this song!”  screamed Kendra in a high pitched drunk party-girl voice.  She grabbed Bryce by the hand and dragged him onto the dance floor.  The last thing I saw before they were swallowed up by the crowd was Kendra dipping down into the same ridiculous move she had tried in her basement.

“Ouch,” I said out loud to myself.  I couldn’t hear the sound of her knee popping, but I knew it had happened.  Tooth Model must have thought I was talking to him because the next thing I knew he had his hand out, motioning for me to join him on the dance floor. 

“Ready to get your grind on?”  he asked.  I swear to God he said that.  Am I ready to get my grind on.  I laughed out loud in his face and grabbed my drink off the table.

“Sure,” I said, not taking his hand.  I walked towards the dance floor, letting him follow, and keeping any sort of hip sway to a bare minimum as I knew his eyes were plastered to my butt.  I found a fairly roomy spot so we wouldn’t need to get too close, and broke out the most asexual dance moves I could think of.   I was about ten seconds away from doing the Running Man, when Tooth Model decided to turn on the low budget male stripper moves.  I stood there watching in horror when a thought suddenly occurred to me.  I reluctantly moved in a littler closer so he could hear me.

“Hey, how come you’re still here?” I asked.  “Wasn’t the dental convention a few weeks ago?”  He took the opportunity to put his slimy paw on my back.

“I flew back home!” he shouted, “And when I got there I found my clothes all over the front lawn.  So I decided to come back to Vegas!” 

“Why were your clothes all over the lawn?” I yelled.

“Because my wife’s a bitch!” he yelled back.

“You’re
married
?”  Was there not a man on the planet who wasn’t trying to cheat?  I literally pried his fingers off of me and took a step backwards.

“Only on paper,” he whispered, putting his lips practically inside my ear canal.  I took two more steps backward, apologizing as I knocked into another couple.  I shook my finger in Tooth Model’s face and looked desperately in Kendra and Bryce’s direction.  They were caught up in a heavy duty make-out session and would not have noticed me if I rode through the club on a unicycle.

I spent the next two songs deflecting Tooth Model’s advances and looking pleadingly at other guys on the dance floor, hoping that some other drunk would come rescue me.  But nobody would bite.   I couldn’t blame them.  If somebody were to ask the question “Who brought the weirdo?"  I would need to raise my hand.  I wouldn’t want to dance with me either. 

I felt my phone vibrating inside my purse and took the opportunity to excuse myself and head back to our table.  I glanced over my shoulder to see that Tooth Model had already sidled up behind a new girl, who no doubt was getting a whiff of gin and the sudden urge to take a shower. 

I looked at my phone, not even minding if it was Nick again.  But it wasn’t.  It was Chris.

I heard if you don’t start sucking face with the old dude you’re fired.

Shocked, I glanced all around the bar, not seeing any familiar faces until I reached the far side of the dance floor, and there, standing alone by a post, was Chris.  My hero.  Powered by vodka and self-preservation, I ran towards him and threw my arms around his neck.  I was so happy I could’ve kissed him.  I didn’t, but I could have.

“What are you doing here?”  I asked.  “You won’t believe the creep Kendra set me up with! Well, I guess you would believe it, you just saw him for yourself.”

“I overheard you two talking about your hot dates yesterday and I figured you may need some rescuing.”  His face had turned red when I hugged him.  "I hope you don't think this is creepy, or that I'm like a stalker or something."

"Oh God no!" I said.  "You could've been peeking in my hotel room windows tonight and still not be as creepy as that guy.  I owe you big time."   I had never seen Chris dressed so stylishly before.  I took a step back and gave an exaggerated nod of approval to his powder blue button-up shirt and jeans.  He had even styled his hair. 

“You look great!" I said.

"Thank you ma'am," said Chris, his face turning even redder. 

“Let’s go sit!"  I grabbed his hand and led him to the bar where we could keep an eye on Kendra and Bryce who were currently still in a lip lock.  Tooth Model was nowhere to be seen, which was fine by me. 

Chris bought us a couple of drinks and w
e immediately had a fabulous time making fun of everybody on the dance floor - namely the sluts, the pervs, and the total douchebags.  Chris and I were in our people-watching glory, and it was with a rush of glee that I glanced at the time and realized that the night was still young.  I leaned in closer as we toasted each other with two tequila shots.

I had my hand resting on his knee when the latest Britney Spears song came on.  And I was about to pull him onto the dance floor when Tooth Model suddenly materialized out of thin air.  He sidled up with a smug “she’s mine” look on his face, and tried to put his arm around me.

“Where have you been, babe?”  he asked.  “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

I shrugged his arm off my shoulder and moved in closer to Chris.

“I forgot to tell you,”  I said.  “I have a boyfriend.  He just got back from Iraq!  He came here right from the airport actually.”  Tooth Model took a step back and gave Chris the once over.