Page 4 of Third Time Lucky

He rolls his eyes. ‘Why would that offend you?’

‘She dated Kris.’

His eyes go wide. He knows the story. But he doesn’t know the details. ‘Ah. Kris.’

‘Yeah. We were teenagers,’ I say. ‘And that’s just it – how well do you know a teenager? What if I was a serial killer now? I mean, chances are slim but not zero. Maybe her judgment isn’t what it used to be, and this Brandon is a total psycho? I don’t wanna know if he is.’

Aaron is bouncing in his spot but suddenly stops, frowning at me. His disappointment practically oozes off the walls around us.

‘Who fucking cares if he’s the next Ted Bundy? Don’t spend alone time with the guy, and I’m sure we’ll be back in our room by sun up. Jeez. The older you get, the less fun you are. Who says no to this?’

‘You don’t feel the slightest bit awkward walking into a party we weren’tactuallyinvited to?’

‘It’s what you go to Vegas to do,’ he insists. ‘Party with people you don’t know and never speak of it again.’

I laugh. If I even say the word Vegas back in Portland, he shushes me like we’ve got secrets. Trust me, all we have is a collection of bad memories and paid fines.

The elevator dings as it stops, and the doors slide open to a private suite filled with so many people I momentarily check the elevator status to ensure we haven’t ended up at a bar. Nobu Penthouse flashes again on the screen above the doors.

Christ on a pogo stick.

‘Thisis her fiancé’s bachelor party?’

‘Ha!’ Aaron motions to the crowd. ‘Dude’s not even going to notice us because half of Vegas is here. This is insanity,’ he says, leading me out of the elevator and into the loud, packed room.

‘Absolute insanity,’ I say, leaning into him so he can hear me over the music playing. ‘Jesus.’

‘Can I get an Amen?!’ is Aaron’s response as he lifts his hands into the air.

‘What? No. I mean, Jesus, this place easily violates the hotel’s fire code with the number of people here.’

He rolls his eyes dramatically. ‘My God, Grandpa, stop thinking lawfully and start channeling Sin City. Look at the number of strippers!’

They are everywhere. Literally, there isn’t a crowd of people that isn’t accented with a scantily clad woman dancing. A curved staircase with a second-story terrace is front and center – including a stair-top stripper. Sleek leather sofas are filled to the brim with people dressed to the nines – some getting lap dances – all holding a fancy drink. Everywhere you look there’s more and more people. Out one window, I spot dozens mingling on an outdoor terrace overlooking the strip. A few people are in the hot tub, and the private pool is far from vacant. The music is loud, and every room is jammed full. The place is mad.

‘Can I offer you a drink?’ A man in a tuxedo approaches us with champagne on a silver tray.

‘Seriously? A fucking butler?’ Aaron practically dances as he freaks, then elegantly takes two champagne flutes, one in each hand, never offers one to me, downs them one at a time, and then places the glasses back on the tray. ‘Thank you, my good sir—’ He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of one-dollar bills. I wonder what those are for. ‘This is to keep them coming.’

‘Sorry,’ I apologize to the man as he stares at a handful of ones. ‘Vegas him is kind of a monster.’

His pinched smile says he knows very well what Vegas does to people.

‘Word of advice,’ Aaron says as we approach a loaded bar. ‘Put that Lucy Loo girl on speed dial right now.’

‘I don’t have her number,’ I say, ordering a Jack and Coke.

‘Get it,’ he demands, taking the Corona he asked for. ‘Maybe she’s into you?’

‘She’s getting married tomorrow.’

‘Which means she’s still single tonight.’

‘Not how that works.’ I heave a sigh. ‘Go. Party. We’re in room 4007 – do I need to write you a note and put it in your pocket, just in case?’

I know he’s going to disappear because we’ve been to Vegas before. I’ve learned to stay ahead of him.

‘Text it to me,’ he says with a wide grin as he backs into the room, disappearing into the crowd.

---