Page 20 of Vegas Daddies

“I didn’t!”

“The ring,” she says, tugging at my finger, “suggests something different.”

“We didn’t. I think I would remember standing at an altar saying, ‘I do’ to a transvestite vicar with bombshell hair and bigger boobs than me, you, andLevi’s new girlfriend combined.”

That last one stings.

But I need it for my argument.

“I didn’t have sex with them. No. I just went back to Brander’s, had some whisky and a bit of TLC, and then we went back out again.”

“To where?”

“Ummm.” I search the ceiling, trying to place where we ended up. Apart from the glass of rum and asking if Brander was a wizard (fuck, I’m never drinking again), nothing pops up.

Tammy reaches for a clean towel and unfolds it to display the embroidered logo.

The Venetian Resort: Hotel and Casinos.

“The Venetian could’ve been it.”

Tammy bats her eyelashes.

That’s when I catch up.

Why the fuck am I here when our hotel was in Flamingo?

“How did you find me?”

“You messaged.”

“I did?”

She exits the bathroom and returns a moment later scrolling through her phone—because she gets more notifications in a minute than I do in a day—and shows me the screen.

I wince.

She could’ve at least been more considerate and turned it to night mode.

The messages slowly appear before my eyes.

Quite a few, actually.

3:22 AM

Alice: three diks

Alice: thee silver foxeys

Alice: Tams?

Alice: Tammy

Alice: Tam

Alice: Tam

Alice: ???

---