Page 5 of Huge Pucking Play

"At least let me help you look for a little while," I insist. "If we don't find them soon, we can come up with a better plan."

She studies me for a moment, then nods. "Okay, but just for a little bit."

Relief washes over me as we set off into the crowded casino. I place my hand gently on her lower back, guiding her through the sea of people. I tell myself it's just to keep her close in the crowd, but I can't deny the thrill that runs through me at the contact.

What am I thinking? I wonder. She’s way too young for me. She can’t be older than 25. But as she glances back at me with that radiant smile, I know I'm already in too deep.

She takes another step and grimaces in pain as if she’s stepped on something sharp. I look down at her feet and remember that she doesn’t have on any shoes. If this place wasn’t so crowded I would have noticed earlier.

"What did you step on?" I ask, holding onto her elbow so she’s able to take weight off her foot.

She grimaces. "I’m not sure, but, damn, that hurt."

She holds her foot up and I grab it, trying to see if there’s a cut or any blood. I don’t notice anything, but for all I know, there’s a shard of glass lodged in there that I can’t see.

"This isn’t going to do," I say, looking a bit closer at the bottom of her foot. "Let's get you some new shoes."

Cyn laughs, amused. "In a casino? At this hour?"

I grin. "You'd be surprised what you can find in Vegas. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but it’s really Vegas."

We locate an open boutique tucked away in a corner. We head in and immediately start looking for shoes.

The shelves are nearly bare, though. There must have been a run of people needing items that they forgot at home. Or maybe the airlines lost a lot of luggage today.

"All we have left in your size are these," the sales associate says, holding up a pair of fluffy pink slippers with butterflies.

I stifle a laugh as Cyn's eyes widen in horror.

"You can't be serious," she mutters.

She sits down on the padded bench to try the slippers on. Before she does, though, I ask to take another look at the bottom of her foot to make sure there’s no lasting damage. I find nothing, and Cyn slides the slipper on her foot.

"They're perfect," I declare, pulling out my wallet.

Cyn stands up and looks at herself in the full-length mirror. "I feel ridiculous."

"Well, you look adorable," I counter, unable to hide my amusement. “And now there’s no chance of you stepping on anything else.”

As we leave the boutique she says, “Thanks so much for your generosity. I promise to pay you back.”

“Think nothing of it. Watching you walk around in those slippers is payment enough,” I say, chuckling.

Her face turns beet red and she mock punches me in the arm.

We continue our search, Cyn's new footwear drawing amused glances.

"You’ve got admirers," I lean down to whisper.

She shrugs, grinning. "Very funny. But seriously these are the most comfortable shoes, well slippers, I've ever worn. I’m never wearing heels again."

“I don’t blame you. I don’t know how you gals do it. They look like torture devices to me.”

“We do it because men love how our legs look in them. Why else?” she says. “But, agreed, they can be tortuous.”

"Any sign of your friends?" I ask, scanning the crowd.

Cyn shakes her head. "Not yet. But hey, at least I'm making a fashion statement!"

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