Shine Not Burn

Elle Casey

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© 2013 Elle Casey, all rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without author permission. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this ebook at the author authorized online outlet that serves your country.

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OTHER BOOKS BY ELLE CASEY

*= Coming Soon

(New Adult Romance)

Shine Not Burn

Rebel*

Hellion*

Trouble*

Trainwreck*

By Degrees*

Don’t Make Me Beautiful*

(YA Paranormal Romance)

Duality, Volume I (Melancholia)

Duality, Volume II (Euphoria)

(YA Urban Fantasy)

War of the Fae: Book One, The Changelings - FREE!

War of the Fae: Book Two, Call to Arms

War of the Fae: Book Three, Darkness & Light

War of the Fae: Book Four, New World Order

Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 1, After the Fall

Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 2, Between the Realms

Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians

My Vampire Summer

My Vampire Fall*

Aces High (co-written with Jason Brant)

(YA Post-Apocalyptic)

Apocalypsis: Book 1, Kahayatle

Apocalypsis: Book 2, Warpaint

Apocalypsis: Book 3, Exodus

Apocalypsis: Book 4, Haven

(YA Action-Adventure)

Wrecked

Reckless

DEDICATION

To Mimi Strong.

An author friend whose name suits her perfectly.

Chapter One

THEY CALL ME PARTY GIRL. That’s who the invitation says I am, anyway.

Yo, Party Girl! We. Need. You. Be at the airport tomorrow at 1pm on the dot at the Delta ticket counter or you will henceforth be known as Mud. We’re not kidding. Don’t let us down. And remember, you have permission to have fun and forget about your bullshit boyfriend PUKE because what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Over and out. Love, your best friend, Kelly. And no, Candice is not your best friend, I am. Love, Kelly. Your best friend.

I put the invitation down on my desk. “No way,” I said out loud into my office, “not gonna happen.”

“What’s not gonna happen?” asked Ruby, my assistant. Really she’s more like a mother, next door neighbor, confessor, and general pain in the butt all rolled into one, but the nameplate on her desk says she’s Ruby. Executive Legal Secretary at Harvey, Grossman, and Cantor, LLP. She came in carrying a piping hot mug of coffee, and like she does every day, earned my undying gratitude for her uncanny ability to know exactly what I needed when I needed it. Nine a.m. and I was ready to mainline the caffeine at this point. Bachelorette party invites do that to me.

“I’m not going to this stupid thing,” I said, tucking the invitation under my desk blotter. I could already imagine what Luke would have to say about it. That would be Luke with an L and not with a P. My girlfriends weren't fans.

“For Kelly? Of course you are. She’s your best friend. Do you want me to RSVP for you or are you going to handle it?”

I frowned at her, not quite snatching the cup out of her hands but letting her know she was making me cranky. “No, miss busybody, I do not want you RSVPing for me.” I put the mug closer to my face so I could smell its contents, wishing the act of snorting coffee steam could get the caffeine to go in deeper or make its effects last longer. “I told you. I’m not going.”

She pursed her lips at me in her patented Ruby-ain’t-playin’ look. “Mmm-hmm.” Two head bob-n-weaves later and I was folding. She had serious guilt-trip power, and she wasn’t afraid to use it on me regularly.

“But I don’t want to go,” I whined, getting my pout on and working it with everything I had. “I have two briefs to finish by Tuesday and three hearings this week on motions to dismiss and that’s just the tip of my unholy awful iceberg.” I kicked my desk lightly, wanting to do it harder but loathe to damage my Louboutins. They’d cost me almost a week’s pay.

“You finished those briefs last week, as you well know, and you can send Bradley to the hearings.” She said Bradley with that tone - the one that conveyed how irritating she found him. She always did. I had to really resist the urge to do it myself. He had this way of getting under a person’s skin. Creepy crawly and seriously, ew. Gorgeous clothes and a pretty face could only do so much for a guy when his personality was so gag-worthy. Think snake crossed with honey badger and you’d be close to understanding his style.

I rolled my eyes. “You really need to stop snooping around in my computer files, Rubes.”

“Why? How else am I’m going to keep up with you? If I wait for you to ask me for help I’ll be old and gray before that happens.”

“You already are old and gray,” I said, smiling behind my mug. The glee I was feeling at this point was totally rude, but that’s how I roll. Rockin the Louboutins while harassing senior citizens. Classy with a capital K.

She pointed a very long, very polished fingernail at me. “Girl, you are so lucky you’re sitting behind that desk and not out there in that mess of secretaries with me, otherwise …” She wrinkled up her mouth at me and shook her head slowly a few times.

“Otherwise, what? You’d mess me up? We’d throw down in the copy room?” My grin got bigger.

“Count on it, baby girl,” she said. She turned to leave the office, her panty-hosed legs making loud swishing sounds like they always did. I swear one day the friction between her thighs was going to start a fire in the office.

“Who do I send the RSVP to?” she asked without even looking back at me. “Candice or Kelly?”

I sighed heavily, putting the mug down on the desk blotter.

Ruby wins again. As usual.

“Kelly,” I sighed out. “Send it to Kelly’s work email.”

I spun my chair to the side so I could face my computer, clicking on the keys that would take me to my client files. The impending doom of Kelly’s upcoming bachelorette party hung over my head. I was supposed to be figuring out how I was going to work my way around the 4th DCA’s latest ruling, but the words on the document I’d just opened swam in front of my eyes.

My eyes glazed over and I was fifteen again, in a small back room of my mother’s house with the hulking figure of her boyfriend standing over me, a belt raised above his head.

It crashed down again and again on my back, head, and shoulders. Nasty, hateful words streamed out of his mouth, dank ugliness that coated my skin.

I trembled not with fear but with anger. This had gone on for way too long. The bruises were taking longer to heal. I had to get away. With every beating the words had gotten more hateful, and the belt had come down harder. If I didn’t find a way out of this mess I’d be dead and buried in the backyard before I hit eighteen. Wishing my mother would step in and help me was a waste of my time.

When he left the room that day, I’d drafted the first version of what became known as my lifeplan, the document that laid out the route that would lead me to my goals: independence, safety, and financial success. I couldn’t depend on my weak, co-dependent mother to save me, so I had to save myself.

I shook my head, pulling it out of the clouds and bringing it back to the present. No. I refuse to let those memories ruin my best friend’s party. I took a deep breath and expelled the ghosts haunting the recesses of my mind. I was twenty-five now and my lifeplan had gotten me this far. Taking a small break to go to Vegas wouldn’t change anything. Taking a little two-day trip to Vegas with my best girlfriends presented zero risk to my lifeplan. I could do this. I would not allow Fear to be my constant companion anymore.

I clicked my mouse, bringing up the document that had to be finished before I got on the plane.

Chapter Two

A CHORUS OF SQUEALS ROSE up as I walked over to the check-in area of Palm Beach International Airport. My best friends from college, Candice and Kelly, were standing near the Delta line.

“You made it!” yelled Candice, running towards me, paying zero attention to the bystanders staring at her. This was her usual way of making it through life. Oblivious. Loud. Ready to party at a moment’s notice. She came on tiptoes, her shoes making any other type of walking impossible. She is the most lovable airhead I’ve ever known.

“Ooph.” Her surgically enhanced chest slammed into mine, knocking some of the air out of my lungs. “Miss me?” I asked over her shoulder, my eyes crossing just a little.

“Oh my god, yes.” She squeezed me hard once and pulled away. “You hibernate in that office of yours all week long, every weekend, and then you spend all your free time with Puke. Of course I miss you.”

“It’s Luke, and I went to lunch with you just last week.” I stepped back, picking up the overnight bag I’d dropped on the ground by my feet and putting the strap over my shoulder. “You know I have to make partner …”

“…By the time you’re thirty. I know, I know, I know. It’s going to be engraved on your headstone.” She put her arm through mine, leaning in and sniffing me. She did that all the time, always on the lookout for her next favorite perfume.

“Headstone? Hopefully, I’ll be partner at the firm by the time I have that little depressing ornament over my head.” I glanced sideways at her, smiling secretly over the fact that her lips looked like they’d been stung by wasps again. Once Candice discovered collagen a few years ago, she’d never gone back. One of her favorite sayings is ‘thin lips sink ships’ which makes complete sense to her; she doesn’t care that it doesn’t to anyone else. I’ve never asked for clarification of the ‘ships’ part of that equation because sometimes her thought processes give me headaches they’re so asinine. But as goofy as she can be, she’s still one-half of my best friend whole. Candice, Kelly, and I were known as the three amigas in college and that hadn’t changed, even though our lives couldn’t be more different now.

We walked over to the counter to join Kelly. She was having an animated conversation with the wispy-looking male ticket agent, first waving her arms around and then putting her hands in praying position. She looked like a regular church lady with her button down blouse and neatly-pressed khaki pants. Love had mellowed her out since college, but under that conservative, polished veneer was a crazy girl who used to dye her hair purple and do shots of tequila off male-stripper stomachs.

Candice snorted at the claim I was laying on my future partnership. “I’ve told you a hundred times. You won’t make partner by the time you’re thirty if you don’t get out more. My cousin’s cousin’s husband’s brother died of a heart attack when he was only twenty-eight. Twenty-eight!”

“You’re cousin’s cousin’s husband’s sister’s … whatever … had a heart defect, and you’ve told me before he got chicken pox so bad he was hospitalized, so I’m pretty sure him not being a female lawyer working a few extra hours a week didn’t contribute to his death.”

“Just shut up and come with me. Kelly’s trying to get us an upgrade.”

I followed Candice to the counter and listened with amusement as Kelly tried to charm the obviously gay man into giving us an upgrade she didn’t have the frequent flyer miles for.

“Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease pleeeeaaase? I swear we’ll be good. We’ll totally behave ourselves and not drink ten mini bottles of vodka on ice.” She grinned like a movie star in a toothpaste commercial. She did have really nice teeth. Having a father as a cosmetic dentist made sure of that.

He gave her a perfunctory smile in return, which disappeared less than a second after it had appeared. “As much as it pains me to tell you this, I’m afraid I cannot give you the upgrade unless you have the points or the money to pay for it.” He looked at his monitor. “To go from economy class to business class will cost you a total of one thousand two hundred dollars for the three of you. We accept all major credit cards.” His nostrils flared slightly as he stared at her again.

Kelly’s mouth dropped open. “Are you insane? I could buy a shitty used car for that much money.”

He smiled without humor. “But you don’t get complimentary drinks in shitty used cars, now do you?” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in his voice. Damn, he was good.

I walked up to the desk and rested my arm on it, giving him my best addressing-the-bench smile. “Hi there, … Samuel. I’m Andrea … Andie.” I put my other hand on Kelly’s arm. “It’s my job to take this poor girl and give her the best two days of her life in Vegas before she ties herself down to a life of servitude and misery. I’m talking marriage here, and it’s bad. It’s really bad.” I lowered my voice. “Her fiancé is a mortician.”

“You’re kidding me,” he said, looking first at me and then Kelly. His cold expression slipped just a little. We were used to the morbid curiosity when the subject came up, and I wasn’t too proud to use it to our advantage. This was my best friend’s bachelorette party, after all. Sacrifices would need to be made. Buttons would have to be pushed. Pride would have to be swallowed.

Kelly nodded, her eyes big and if I wasn’t mistaken, a little shiny. Nice touch, I said in my nod at her. Work it hard. The sad thing is, I wasn’t kidding about the mortician thing. She really was planning to marry Matthew Ackerman, otherwise known to us as Matty the mortician. Candice and I have asked her several times what she could possibly see in a man who deals with the dead all the time, and her answer was always the same: nobody’s got good wood like a guy who works with stiffs all day. I’m still not even sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I’m also pretty damn sure I don’t want to know either, so I let it lie.

“You’re going to marry a man who touches dead bodies every day? Cuts them open?” He leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “Embalms them?”

She nodded. “Yes. We deal with death every day, the two of us. It’s all very heart-breaking. This is my one last chance to let my hair down before I have to suck it up and be the wife of a mortician.” She wiped a fake tear from her eye and turned away.

And the Academy Award for Best Actress in a Non-Movie is … Kelly Foust!

The agent looked to his left and then his right. His fingers flew over the keys, sometimes just the index finger pressing one key about twenty times. I wondered if he was really even doing anything. It was possible he was just messing with us by seeing how long he could keep us standing there believing we were convincing him to feel sorry for us before he told us to go get bent.

But then the sound of a dot matrix printer came from under his counter and a few seconds later he was pulling six long boarding cards out with our names on them. “Business class upgrade? Why of course, ladies. We’re happy to accommodate your business needs here at Delta Airlines. Here are your boarding passes for both legs of the flight to Las Vegas.” He put them down on the counter and slid them over to Kelly. She grabbed them and squealed, her heels tapping the floor over and over as she simultaneously hugged Candice and jumped up and down with her. I put my hand on her shoulder to calm her down while giving my full attention to the agent.

“Thanks so much for helping us out, Samuel. That was really cool.”

He smiled at me, the first genuine expression I think I’d gotten from him since I’d walked up to his counter. “Just be careful. They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but sometimes the trouble follows you home. Know what I mean?” He winked.

I nodded, even though I had no idea what he was talking about. I wasn’t the kind of girl to get into that kind of trouble. I might drink a little wine now and then or a beer maybe, but I always remembered what happened the next day and I never went too far. I was all about self-control now that I was an adult and no longer goofing around in college. “Good tip. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for flying Delta. Have a pleasant trip.” He looked past me to the person next in line, so I took the hint and moved to the side.

Grabbing our carry-ons, we left for the security area, Candice and Kelly already making plans for our first night in Vegas. I heard something about slots and a night club before trying unsuccessfully to block out the rest. I let out a long sigh, realizing as each part of their plan was revealed that I had two days of adult babysitting to look forward to. It was no big deal, though. I’d had lots of practice in college being their roommate. I’d always been the responsible one, the dedicated driver, the girl who held their hair while they barfed over the toilet, the one who dispensed tissues and served up ice cream when boyfriends made them cry. Two days in Vegas, running after my best friends and keeping them out of the kind of trouble that follows a person home. How hard could it be? I had four years of practice at the University of Florida. This would be a piece of cake.

My phone buzzed after I went through security, and I read the text on the screen while we walked to our gate. The words glowing out at me didn’t make the outlook for my trip any brighter. I considered turning around and dealing with the problem now so I could get it all over with, thinking I could hook up with my friends later. This was seriously going to ruin the trip for me.

“What’s wrong, party pooper?” asked Candice, coming up beside me and putting her arm across my shoulders. She’s normally only two inches taller than me, but with her stilettos, she had me by half a head easy. I’d worn lower heels today so I could be comfortable for the trip. It was more practical, and I was nothing if not that. Candice, on the other hand, abhorred practicality. She considered it the devil’s influence and the road to a truly boring life.

I gritted my teeth, trying to contain my anger, trying not to let Luke ruin our bon voyage. “It’s nothing,” I said, acting nonchalant about it. “Just Luke.” I went to slip my phone into the outer pocket of my purse, but Candice snatched it away from me.

“Hey!” I protested, reaching for it.

She handed it over to Kelly, keeping her grip tight on my shoulders. “Just relax. We’re here to help.”

“Oh my pink granny panties, did he actually just send this to you in a text? What a total douchebag McGee.” She looked at me with her patented WTF expression. “Seriously, Andie, you so need to kick him in the balls when you get back.”

“Whatsit say?” asked Candice, letting go of me and reaching for the phone.

“Read it and weep.” Kelly gave me a pity frown as she handed the phone to Candice.

Two seconds later, Candice was typing something out on it.

“No!” I said, reaching for it. “Don’t!”

“Too late! Too late!” she sang, dancing around in a small circle, holding the phone above her head.

I jumped up and snatched it away from her so I could read the very short conversation.

Luke: I can’t believe you’re going. Have a nice life.

Andi’s phone: Have a nice life yourself, assbag.

“Wow. Thanks, Candice. That was awesome.” My thumb hovered over the keys, ready to type out an explanation. An apology. Something.

Candice grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over to a group of empty seats inside our boarding area. “Listen to me, Andie. Before you send him another text, consider this...”

I sat down letting out a huff of frustration. I had already reached my vacation destination. Welcome to Sucksville! Next stop: Shit City!

Candice continued. “Luke’s been sucking the life out of you for three whole years. Three years! And in all that time, what has he done, other than annoy the crap out of your best friends and make you cry? Huh? What has he done to deserve your undying loyalty? I don’t get it.”

“He’s not that bad,” I said, feeling a little guilty as I said it. My grandmother had always told me even little white lies were bad lies.

“Not that bad? Yeah, right. What did he get you for Valentine’s Day this year? Oh yeeeaaah, that’s right! A gift certificate towards liposuction! Wasn’t that thoughtful.” She rolled her eyes and threw up a hand for emphasis.

“Not,” interjected Kelly.

“He knows I don’t like my love handles on the top of my butt,” I said, knowing as the words left my lips how incredibly lame I sounded. Why do I keep allowing this stuff to happen? How can I call myself a strong intelligent woman when I act like a complete loser with men?

“Right. Whatever.” Candice was disgusted. “Talk about keeping a woman down. And what did he do the last time you went out of town for work? Oh, yeah. I remember now! He made out with his secretary at the office party!” She threw both her hands up and let them fall to slap the top of her thighs.

“He was drunk. They were both drunk. He told me about it, so it’s not like he was hiding it.” I remembered the sharp pain of humiliation over that one. It came back full force every time I thought about it, which was way too often.

Kelly sat down on my other side. “Please stop making excuses for that shitheel, would you? He confessed because everyone in the entire firm saw it, and he knew you were going to find out sooner or later.” She put her arm around me and squeezed. “He’s a crap boyfriend and a crap guy in general. Please just let him go and move on. Please, please don’t go back to him. He’s offering you a golden opportunity right now.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re marrying Matty the mortician next week.”

“Yes, well, if you recall, I kissed a lot of hairy, warty toads before I found my prince.”

“Yeah. Remember Bruno from Italy?” asked Candice, giggling.

“How could I forget?” I asked, smiling too. Misery loves company. “Bruno, the one-balled wonder.”

“Hey, he can’t help it that he’s missing a testicle,” said Kelly, trying really hard to be offended but not quite hitting the mark.

“Uh, yeah he can, when he’s the one who made it fall off,” said Candice, snorting.

Kelly sighed with exaggerated patience. “It didn’t fall off, okay? I’ve told you a hundred times, Candice, he had it surgically removed.”

I couldn’t stop smiling despite being pissed off about that stupid text and the idea that the first thing I’d have to do when I got back would be to pack up his crap and deliver it to his apartment … although it would be nice to get my closet back. “And why exactly did Bruno have his own testicle surgically removed?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know the answer.

Kelly shrugged. “I guess he had too much testosterone or something.”

Candice snorted again, bending over a little with the giggles that were coming more uncontrollably now.

I sat back in my seat and crossed one leg over the other. “I thought he injected himself in the ball sack with some black market steroids and caused an infection down there that made one of them shrivel up and fall off.”

Candice was laughing loudly now, her guffaws sprinkled liberally with very unattractive pig-snorts.

“Shut up, Andie. The guy almost died. You shouldn’t be making fun of him.” Kelly pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

I reached over and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Poor old one-ball. He deserves our pity not our mockery.”

I looked over at Candice and winked. She had to look away to contain herself.

A voice came over the loudspeaker: “Delta Flight eighty-seven to Las Vegas now boarding business class passengers only. Business class passengers only.”

Candice and Kelly jumped up, Bruno One-Ball a distant memory.

“That’s us,” said Candice, picking up her Louis Vuitton make-up case. “Business class, here we come.” She tiptoed over to the ticket counter, boarding pass out and big smile on.

“Seriously,” said Kelly as we walked over to join our friend who was openly flirting with a man in a shiny silver suit, “you need to just let Luke go, at least during this trip. You need to be one hundred percent focused on having fun and enjoying this girl-time together. After I’m married and then have kids, I’m not sure I’ll ever have time to do it again, at least until I’m like sixty.”

I nodded. “I know. I’ll just deal with him when I get back.” The business of breaking up. And after a three year investment of time and serious future plan-making on my part, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“That’s my girl,” she said, hugging me with one arm. “Come on. Let’s go drink all the vodka on the plane.”

“Didn’t you promise Samuel the ticket guy you wouldn’t do that?” I said, handing the attendant my boarding card and moving to the passageway that would bring us to the plane.

“Nope. I didn’t make any promises.” She pulled my arm and tugged me along. “Promises are only promises if you say the word promise.”

“I think it’s the intent that matters, not the words.” My feet dragged, my brain definitely not agreeing that Las Vegas was a good idea right now.

“You are such a lawyer sometimes,” she said, frustrated with me. She jerked my arm. “No more lawyering. From this moment until the point that you get off the plane here in West Palm on our way home, you will not be a lawyer.” She turned and faced me, standing in the doorway of the plane. “Promise me. Say the word. Promise you won’t act like a lawyer the entire time we’re gone.”

I sighed heavily, watching the crowd of economy-class passengers coming down the gangway behind us. Kelly’s stubborn. She’d stay there all day and make everyone wait until she got her way.

“Fine. I promise. Andie the lawyer is staying behind in the airport.” My shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Weeeee!” she squealed, taking me into a brief but strong hug. “Andie the party girl is now on board, airplane people.” She smiled as she stepped into the front of the plane, looking out over the seats in business class. “Now someone show us to the vodka.” She left me standing there, taking a seat next to Candice. They both squealed together like teenagers.

I followed along slowly, not looking forward to getting reacquainted with Andie the party girl. I’d left her behind in college and hadn’t seen her in a long, long while. Andie the party girl did not fit into my plans of making partner, getting married, and having two point five kids by the time I’m thirty-five.

Chapter Three

IAN MACKENZIE SADDLED UP ONE of his father’s quarter horses and took off down the trail that would lead him to the back part of the far pasture. His older brother Gavin, otherwise known as Mack, was working there. The MacKenzies had a big herd that needed to be moved to higher ground because of some forecasted heavy rains, but it had to be done slowly. They didn’t want the cattle to burn off too much weight before being sold by the pound. Loss of a single pound per head could mean the difference between feast and famine on the MacKenzie ranch.

Thirty minutes later, his older brother’s musical whistling cued him in to where he was, just behind a large rock outcropping, under some tall trees. Mack had gotten farther in his mission to move the cattle, and the ride had taken Ian much longer than he’d anticipated. He allowed his horse to pick its way around the scrub brush and larger rocks, its sturdy legs and muscular frame well adapted to the area’s rugged terrain.

“Yo, Mack!” Ian called out, making sure to announce himself so he wouldn’t spook his brother or his brother’s horse.

The whistling stopped abruptly. “Yo, Ian,” came the response, albeit in a decidedly less enthusiastic tone.

Ian rode around the side of the large barrier, finding his brother sitting in the saddle and staring out over the gorgeous valley below, his reins loosely wrapped around the saddle horn. His leather chaps that he wore over his jeans looked as old as the hills themselves. Ian made a mental note to buy his brother new ones for his birthday.

“I’ll never get tired of that view,” said Mack, reaching up to rub his sweaty head by wiggling his cream-colored cowboy hat around, his longish dark brown hair curling up at the nape of his neck. The strong muscles of his arm flexed and moved, calling attention to the deep tan he’d acquired from working without his flannel shirt on. “Why would anyone ever want to live anywhere else?” He abandoned the head scratching and rested his hand on his thigh. Turning to his younger brother, he gave him the look that used to make Ian beg for forgiveness when they were younger.

Ian breathed out a sigh of annoyance. “Some people find other things to live for besides ranching and carrying on old and tired traditions.”

Mack turned more fully to face his brother, his glowing, light blue eyes shining out from under his hat. This was the classic-old-West-cowboy-meets-GQ-model look that always got the girls in town all hot and bothered. Ian had spent a lifetime watching his brother duck and run from almost all of them. It was a damn shame, as far as he was concerned, that his brother was not only damn ornery but way too picky to boot. None of the girls in Baker City had measured up so far, and he’d pretty much run out of candidates. Even Hannah Pierce who’d been circling his brother’s ankles and making herself a complete nuisance since junior high wasn’t really in the running, much as she might like to think she was.

“Old and tired traditions?” Mack scowled. “Come on, Ian, that’s not fair. Those traditions put you through school, not to mention set you up to get married to Ginny in style, just like she always wanted.” He faced the beautiful view again and adjusted his seat in the saddle, the leather creaking as it moved. Reaching down to gather up his reins in his gloved hand, he began whistling again, doing a unique rendition of the song I’m Movin’ On by Rascal Flatts.

Ian knew the tune well. Their mother had been playing it everyday at home, wallowing in the sadness of losing her younger boy to the big city. Ian shook his head. Portland, Oregon was as small-town as a big city could possibly be, but his whole family was acting like he was going to the Big Apple never to be seen again. He and his soon-to-be wife Ginny had already promised to visit on every major holiday and two weeks during Christmas, but it hadn’t done anything to ease his mother’s suffering. All she could talk about was the grandchild who didn’t exist yet that she’d almost never see.

“I bought you a ticket today,” said Ian. “I came to tell you so you can pack and get in the shower before we leave for Boise. Plane takes off at four so we have to be there by three, no later.”

“I told you, I’m not goin’. Gotta get the herd moved before next week.”

“Boog already said he’d do it, and he owes you anyway, so just let him. And I need you, besides. You can take a break for once. You haven’t had a vacation in ten years.”

Mack urged his horse forward with a squeeze of his legs and a clicking sound inside his cheek. “You need me? In Vegas? Vacation? Yeah right, that’ll be the day.” The horse moved past the tree and along a grassy area below a tall hill - a mere bump compared to the mountains in the distance.

Ian gave his horse a light spurring, causing it to leap forward and cut his brother’s mount off.

Mack scowled. “Cut it out, Ee. You know I don’t have time to play with you right now. Stop acting like a fool.”

Ian smiled, whirling his horse around so he could crowd his brother and get him to react. This cold indifference wasn’t getting him anywhere. A challenge was the only way to get his brother to wake up and get involved in his life while he was still living it in Baker City. Ian saw this bachelor party in Vegas as Mack’s last chance to leave this town and see a little bit of the world before he turned into a hermit, just like their father. Twenty-five years old and he acted like he was fifty. Responsible. Mature. Serious almost all the time. Ian felt the life draining out of him just watching his brother in the saddle.

“Bet I can beat you to the top of that hill over there.” Ian lifted his chin once in challenge, knowing his brother wouldn’t be able to resist. Mack always had to run the fastest, jump the highest, and whistle the loudest. He was nothing if not competitive, and yet, he always managed to do it Cool Hand Luke style, with no one fully realizing how much it mattered to him to be on top. Stealth ego. Mack MacKenzie was all about the stealth ego.

“When are you going to give it up, Ian? You know you’re as slow as Methusela on a damn horse. All hat and no cattle. That’s why you want to run away to the city so no one will know your shame.” He chuckled. “There you can take the ankle express everywhere you need to go and forget about these pesky four-legged beasts.”

Ian rolled his eyes at the tired expressions that their father had been using since before they were born. It was scary how easily they were rubbing off on Mack, now that he was taking on the mantle of ranch manager. “No, I’m not as slow as Methusela, I’m faster than you, and I can prove it. Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? Race me to the top of the hill.”

Mack looked over at him out of the corner of his eye, his gaze dropping to take in the horse under Ian’s saddle. Then he looked at the hill he’d have to climb, his eyes scanning the landscape between where his horse stood and there.

“What’s the bet?” Mack asked, shifting again in the saddle, getting a tighter grip on his reins, shortening them just the slightest bit.

Ian grinned, knowing triumph was nearly within his grasp.

“If I win, you go to Vegas. No bitchin’, no whinin’, no excuses. And you drink and you gamble and you womanize a little. Not a lot, just a little.”

Mack’s jaw bounced out a few times as he gritted his teeth, but he didn’t say no. Instead, he smirked. “And if I win, you stay long enough to go to Mom’s birthday party.”

Ian’s smile disappeared. “Aw, come on! That’s not fair! You know I have to start work in Portland before that!”

Mack shrugged, a genuine smile sliding out to greet the day for the first time. “Not my problem, little bro. You do what you gotta do.” He shrugged, all nonchalant, not a care in the world. “I don’t have to race today. You know I’m going to beat your ass anyway.”

“Screw that,” said Ian, kicking his horse hard and snapping its hind end with the long end of his reins. “Heeyah!” The beast leaped into action, almost throwing him out of the saddle. He blew a stirrup, but there was nothing he could do but hang on and hope for the best.

Chapter Four

MACK WASTED NO TIME, SENDING his horse off like a bullet. His little brother had gotten the jump on him, but it wouldn’t matter. Mack was something of a legend in the area for his horse riding and cutting skills. People called him a balance rider, a guy so comfortable in his seat that no matter what the horse had a mind to do, Mack would go with it and not lose a beat. He hadn’t fallen from a horse since he was five years old, and there wasn’t a cow or steer alive that could outrun or outmaneuver his horse and lasso. Within seconds he’d drawn even with his little brother.

“Heeyah!” he yelled, mostly for his brother’s benefit, but his own horse seemed inspired by it too. He left Ian’s mare behind to eat his dust, leaping over the smaller rocks and the spring that ran across the property, landing smoothly on the other side and not even breaking stride as he surged up the hill.

Mack spun the horse so sharply at the summit that the gelding reared up and let out a whinny that echoed all over the valley. All in a day’s work for Mack, he leaned forward casually, waiting for the horse to get back on all four feet and calm down. He patted his horse’s neck, whispering his thank yous for the excellent work he’d done.

Ian came galloping up, sweat running down his beet-red face, his horse with white foam gathering at the sides of her bit. “Goddammit, Mack! Why the hell’d you go and do that? You know I have to get to Portland before the tenth!” His horse had slowed to a trot and Ian bounced uncomfortably in the saddle, never one for the work of a rancher.

Mack smiled again, feeling sorry for the horse. “Don’t be a sore loser. You know Mom’ll be thrilled that her baby boy’s staying. Just don’t tell her it’s cuz you lost a bet though or I’ll pound your ass.”

“I should, but I won’t.” Ian scowled. “You suck, you know that? How am I supposed to have a good time at my bachelor party if my best man isn’t even there?”

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure.” Mack wheeled his horse around and pointed it downhill. “Listen, I gotta go find some strays. You want to earn your keep around here and help me out?”

“No, I don’t want to help you out. I’ve already earned my keep and I have to go take a shower now, my second one of the day, thank you very much. I have a plane to catch.”

“See you when you get home,” said Mack, not even looking back.

“The ticket’s non-refundable!” Ian yelled at his brother’s back.

“Shouldn’t a-bought it in the first place!” Mack responded.

Mack pushed his horse into a trot, now in a hurry to get the job done. If he was going to make that plane for his little brother’s bachelor party, he needed to hit the shower by no later than eleven-thirty.

He smiled, picturing the look Ian would have on his face as he watched Mack walk onto the plane. He and Ian weren’t kids anymore, but that didn’t mean Mack didn’t still enjoy a good opportunity for teasing when it presented itself. Vegas was definitely not his idea of a fun place to go for any reason, but he couldn’t very well abandon his kid brother on the last party night of his single life, now could he? Besides, he’d be out there and home again in two days, back in the saddle without a hitch. All he had to do was keep his headstrong little bro out of trouble and make sure he got back home in time to marry his childhood sweetheart. And staying out of trouble should be easy enough. He’d managed to do it his entire life.

Chapter Five

“OH MY GEE WHIZ, WOULD you take a look at this place,” said Kelly. She spun around to face Candice, a barely controlled grin making its way to the surface. “Did you do this?”

Candice grinned like the cheshire cat. “Of course I did. Who else would think to put you up in a gorgeous high roller suite during your bachlorette party, other than moi?”

I slapped her lightly on the arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I dropped my bag just inside the door.

“Oh nothing … other than the fact that if the planning had been left up to you, we’d probably be eating dinner at the Olive Garden right now and going home by ten.”

I shook my head at her. “You are so lucky you’re in heels right now.”

She put her fingers up in the shape of a cross. “Stay back. I don’t want you shaking my uterus around. I have plans tonight.”

I barked out a laugh. “Your what?”

She sniffed, lifting her chin a little. “My uterus. I’m due to start my period any day, but I want to try and hold it off for as long as I can. I don’t like having one night stands when I’m on the rag.”

I grimaced, trying to make my way through the quagmire that is her mind so I could figure out what she was actually thinking. “So your theory is that if I tackle you, I’ll … jiggle your uterus and start your period?”

“Exactly.” She smiled with self-pride.

I shook my head in disbelief. “You really should have gone to medical school. With theories like that, you would have been something else.”

“Andie, don’t make me take my scissors out.”

“That’s not a very good threat,” I said, wandering through the room, checking it out. “I’m due for a haircut.”

Candice may be a totally brainless twit sometimes, but she was a hell of a beautician. Top of her class in coloring and styling. After making her parents pay for a four-year fashion degree at UF, she’d blown off the job market to go to cosmetology school. They’d loved that one, but no one can say no to Candice when she’s on a mission. I really should visit her salon more, but I was always too busy. Boring ponytails had been my go-to hairdo for the past three years since graduating law school.

She quickly grabbed her bag off a nearby chair. “Go wet your hair. I’ve been dying to get my hands on that mess of yours for weeks. No, make that months. Years.”

Kelly laughed. “I just love how much she enjoys her job, don’t you?”

I shook my head as I walked to the bathroom. “I’m not going to say a word. I’ve seen how sharp her scissors are, and I like my ears the way they are.” I was happy to let Candice have her way with my hair. Why not enjoy a mini vacation and a mini spa treatment too while I’m at it? I never pampered myself like that at home. I was always too busy.

As I wet my hair, I realized this haircut wasn’t really about needing a trim. It was more symbolic than anything else. When I was finished and my hair was up in a towel, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and re-read the text from Luke, trying to give myself some inspiration.

Have a nice life.

I shut the phone down and put it on the counter, staring at it like it was a snake. Deliverer of bad news. Traitor. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to center myself. It was time to cut some of the dead wood out of my life. Take control. Do things a little more boldly and powerfully for a change. I was a bulldog in the courtroom, never letting go until I had wrung every last argument out of an issue. Attorneys feared going up against me, even when they had rock solid cases. But when it came to my personal life, I was a mess. A lamb to every man’s inner lion. They chewed me up and spit me out, and like a total wienie, I just let them. Luke was just the latest in a string of really bad relationship decisions. Really, Kelly’s One-Ball would be a step up for me.

I took the towel off and ran a brush Kelly had brought through my wet hair, staring at my reflection as I considered this little impromptu vacation. I was on a girls’ night out, very far away from home. Maybe tonight with a new look I could walk out into the hot Las Vegas night and be a different girl. Even though it would only be for one night and a day, the idea held an almost magnetizing appeal. I was almost in a foreign land, where no one knew me. I could do whatever I wanted, and as long as I didn’t get arrested, I’d be home free, back in the office being a kickass lawyer on Monday.

And single. I’d be single, but that could change. I smiled tentatively at myself. I have options; I’m not some ugly spinster that has nothing but a life of solitude and loneliness to look forward to. I leaned in closer to the mirror, evaluating my assets: greenish-gray eyes, brown hair with natural highlights, high cheekbones, decent chin, perfect nose or so my grandmother had always told me - not too small and not too big. My boobs aren’t as big as Candice’s but they’re all mine, home grown. And I’d been told by most of my boyfriends that my best asset was behind me. I turned around, trying to get a look at it. My big, heart-shaped butt. I looked at my naked body in profile. Curvy is how I’d describe myself. I’d spent a lot of years when I was a teenager wishing I could be shaped more like a model with long legs and a well-muscled tummy, but lately I’d come to admire my more feminine silhouette. I nodded at my reflection and faced the mirror again. If a guy can’t appreciate what I have to offer, he can just keep on walkin’.

I had some time yet. I was only twenty-five. My plans were still on track, even if Luke wasn’t on board with them anymore. Junior partner by beginning of next year. Married by the year after. Babies a couple years after that. And then full partner at the firm. Bam. Done with all the hard stuff by thirty-five, and then smooth sailing from then on out.

I looked at my wet head in the mirror and shrugged, my hair several inches past my shoulders and grown-out bangs tickling my eyes. There are plenty of fish in the sea. There has to be one out there who’d want me and who’d find my lifeplan appealing. It was the perfect plan, I was sure of it. I’d carefully developed it and worked towards accomplishing it for over a decade. It was a life journey a million guys would love to be a part of. Now all I had to do was find the right guy. The one who would stick. I ignored the specters that tried to rise up out of my past to haunt me with the misery I’d worked so hard to leave behind. Not today, bad memories. Today, I am invincible and I will have fun.

I walked into the other room, noticing that Candice and Kelly were both out on the balcony with drinks in their hands. I joined them, my breath momentarily taken from me as the intense heat of the day hit me full force. It felt like walking into an open oven set at four hundred and fifty degrees. I took Candice’s drink from her hand. “Don’t drink and cut hair, that’s my motto.” I took a big swig of it and nearly gagged, the alcohol setting my throat on fire.

Kelly laughed before lifting her glass in my direction and taking a long sip of her own cocktail.

“Holy crap,” I said, my voice severely strained, “what was that? Lighter fluid? Did I just drink lighter fluid?” I breathed out several times loudly and held my hand up as a caution. “No one light a match. I’ll blow up or combust or something.”

Candice waved my concerns away. “That only happens if you hold in your gas. Come sit down.” She gestured to the chair in front of her.

My hand froze in the middle of putting the glass to my lips again. I pulled it away. “Uhhhh, what?”

Kelly was standing very still too, a confused expression coming over her face.

“You heard me,” said Candice, sounding very confident. “If you hold in your gas, if you don’t break wind, you can spontaneously combust.” She looked at us like we were the stupid ones. “It’s a medical fact, look it up.”

“Again. A reminder of how your talents were wasted by you not going into medicine.” I shook my head in sheer amazement. “Where did you learn this particular fact, may I ask?”

“Why are you asking?” asked Kelly, sighing. “You know you’re not going to like the answer.”

“If you must know, I saw it on Southpark,” said Candice, lifting her chin in the air.

“Southpark,” I deadpanned. I lifted up a finger and pantomimed cleaning out my ear. “We’re getting our scientific medical facts from Southpark episodes now?” Candice scared me often. This was one of those moments where I wondered how she got through a single day without getting herself run over by a car or a person on a bike. Or a toddler on a tricycle.

“Hey, say what you want, but they bring up a lot of real world situations on that show and deal with them in a way that gets people talking.” She pushed on my shoulder. “Now sit. I have magic to do here.” She lifted up a lock of my hair. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Desperate?” I said, feeling like I’d just fallen down the rabbit hole. Thank God she was better with hair than she was with medical knowledge or I’d be seriously screwed. I took another big swig of the firewater.

“Yes, desperate. With a capital D. You just got dumped by a dick-for-brains, you’re in Vegas,” she looked at her watch, “and it’s eight o’clock and you’re still sober.” She put her fingers on the bottom of my glass and pushed it towards my face. “Drink up, sister of my heart. Relax and let Candice the Great make you beautiful. We’re going to help you find a new man tonight. A hot one!” She giggled a little too crazily.

I put my hand out, taking Kelly’s fingers in mine. “Pray for me, Kells.”

“Our father who art in heaven…,” she said, drowning out the rest of her sentence with swallows of her drink. Her eyes crossed as the liquid burned its way down her throat, but that didn’t stop her from going for more of it just seconds later.

I closed my eyes and drank the rest of my cocktail and the second round of it that Kelly put in my glass, listening to the snip, snip, snip of Candice’s scissors near my ears. I prayed I wouldn’t look like Pink by the time she was done because I so looked like a little man when I had short hair.

My mind strayed to thoughts of Luke, the motions of Candice moving my hair around making me totally relaxed and zoned out. The cocktail might also have had something to do with that feeling of floating, but I didn’t fight it.

Why had I continued dating that turd after he’d given me the liposuction gift certificate? And the cheating thing? A kiss isn’t that big a deal, but I’d been thinking for a while that there’d been more than a kiss for him to confess. I’d never pushed him to tell me more because I hadn’t wanted to know the truth. Why? Because the truth would have messed up my plans. My crazy plans. Was I so dead set on seeing them to fruition that I’d force any old guy into the mold? Apparently so. How depressing. I hadn’t even told Kelly and Candice everything there was to tell about Luke. About all the times he made comments about my hips. About how he was always trying to convince me to go blonde and get a boob job. They hated him enough without me giving them more fuel for the fire. I felt like crying, thinking about how much of myself I’d lost over the last three years. I’d forgotten what it meant to be strong and spontaneous and fearless. I’d let Luke mow me over so that he wouldn’t leave me. So that we could still get married and have kids. God, how pitiful can I possibly be?

I was jerked out of my reverie by Candice’s proclamation. “And I’m spent!” she said, putting her scissors down on the table next to my chair. “Behold. The new and improved Andie Marks. Party Girl is in the hizzy house.”

“Party palace,” said Kelly, lifting up her drink. Her arm swayed a little unsteadily. “Party girl is in the party palace. This is a palace.” Her arm swept the space in front of her as she spun, making it unclear whether she was referring to the hotel room or Las Vegas itself.

I stood, a little unsteady on my feet. “Whoa. Dizzy.”

“Get her another drink,” said Candice, handing my glass to Kelly.

“One more cocktail, coming right up!” Kelly banged past my chair and into the hotel room.

“She’d better slow down or she’s going to burn out before the fun really gets going,” I said, stepping into the room behind her. “Am I supposed to dry this or something?” I asked, reaching up to feel my still-wet head.

“I’ll blow it out for you, but you need to shower first. Get all that hair off you and then you can change into what you’re wearing tonight. I’ll finish with a quick blow and then we can go to dinner.”

I looked down at my jeans and flowy blouse. “I thought this was what I was wearing.”

Candice tsk-tsked at me. “No, no, no-no-no, you are not wearing that Bohemian get-up out for a night out on the town. No. A dress. A tight black one. And heels.”

“But I didn’t bring one.” I pouted, feeling like Cinderella surrounded by well-dressed step-sisters.

“Not to worry. I brought back-up,” said Candice. “I’ll put something together for you while you’re in the shower, don’t worry.”

I looked right at her chest. “I’m not going to fit into your clothes, Candice. Not unless I stuff an entire roll of toilet paper in my bra which I’m not going to do so don’t even try it.” I pointed a threatening finger at her and narrowed my gaze, just so she’d know how much I meant it. I wouldn’t put it past her to try and force me to stuff my bra. She’d done it before in college, and the wet t-shirt contest that had sprung up spontaneously at the party we’d been attending hadn’t ended well. I was scarred for life, in fact. I could never look at a wad of toilet paper again without seeing soggy boobs falling out of my t-shirt and landing on the ground at my feet.

“Just go shower and leave the details to me, okay?” Her smile was way too dangerous for comfort, but I suddenly realized I had to pee, so I left her standing there with her nefarious plans in favor of emptying my bladder.

“I’m not going to stuff my bra with toilet paper. I’m not,” I mumbled as I made my way to the toilet.

Chapter Six

“YOU MADE ME COME ALL this way and you didn’t think to make hotel reservations?” Mack shook his head at his little brother. Ian’s two friends were standing just behind him, too engrossed with checking scantily clad women walking by to care about not having a room to stay in for the night.

“How was I supposed to know the place was going to be so packed?” Ian scowled, hitching up his bag onto his shoulder uncomfortably. “There’s like a thousand hotels in this town.”

“Well, come on,” said Mack, moving his hat around on his head a little. It was a nervous gesture this time, not just a sweaty, itchy head. “Let’s at least see if we can talk one of these bellhops into looking after our bags while we get some grub.”

Thirty minutes later they were sitting at a table for four, diving into plates piled high with all-you-can-eat buffet finds. Their bags were locked in a small room just behind the reservation desk, and the ticket to retrieve them rested safely under Mack’s hat.

“Man, I ain’t never seen so much food in one place in all my life,” said Bo, Ian’s best friend since grade school.

“That’s cuz you’ve never been outside Baker your entire life,” said Ian. “They have buffets like this all over Portland.” He shoveled a huge mouthful of potato salad in his mouth, not letting it get in the way of his conversation. “See, the difference is, here in Vegas? They got all kinds of food, like seafood, steaks, Indian food, vegetarian garbage. Anyone can come to Vegas and have a good time.” He glanced up at his brother before spearing a hunk of beef. “Even Mack.”

Ian’s friends snickered.

“Laugh it up, boys, but I came here to do some business. I got plans.” Mack took a bite of his overcooked steak and cringed. “Jesus Mary and Joseph, this meat is like jerky. Remember that jerky you made with Mom that one year, with the deer meat?” He poked the lump of meat he wasn’t going to finish. “This stuff is worse.”

“Oh, I remember that,” said Dillon, Ian’s other friend. “The dog wouldn’t even eat it.”

Mack pushed his plate away and drained his beer. “I have a date at the blackjack tables. Move it,” he said to Dillon, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Aren’t you gonna wait for us?” asked Ian, looking first at his brother and then at his half-full plate.

“You kidding? If I know you, you still have at least three more trips to the buffet before you’re done. If I start now, I’ll be up a grand before you’re done with dessert.”

Ian snorted. “Fine, mister high roller, go on with your badass self. After we’re done tearin’ up the buffet, we’ll come find you. Just don’t leave the casino here in the hotel.” He stabbed his fork into five layers of various foods and stuffed them into his mouth, his cheeks bulging with the effort of chewing it all.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mack said, standing and throwing some cash on the table. “Dinner’s on me. Save room for beers. I’ll see you at the tables.”

He strolled away, tipping his best cowboy hat back a little on his head as he made his way to the blackjack pit.

Chapter Seven

A DINNER OF SALAD AND a single breadstick wasn’t exactly a gourmet meal, but with this tight black dress on and the stupid gel-filled boob propper-uppers Candice had forced into my bra, there was no way to fit a normal dinner into my belly, even if I’d wanted to. Thing was, though, I was too nervous to eat that much anyway. I found the firey liquid diet I’d been feeding myself since the haircut was more to my taste right now.

“God, all I had was a stupid salad and I feel like I’m going to bust a seam on this thing.” I was walking on higher heels than I was used to, thanks to Kelly and her having the same size foot as me. “You guys conspired against me with this outfit, and don’t think I’m going to forget it easily, either. We have at least two more bachelorette parties to plan in the future and revenge will be my bitch when that time comes.” I flicked my hair back, trying not to smile. The haircut really did make me feel beautiful. It was totally Jennifer Anniston, and both Kelly and Candice said I was pulling it off well.

“What’s she whining about now?” asked Candice, putting on lipstick using her tiny purse compact.

Kelly hiccuped. “I’m not sure, but I think she’s complaining about the shoes again. Or maybe the dress. I can’t keep track. I lost my brain about an hour and three margaritas ago.” She rubbed her stomach and grimaced. “Can I go to bed now?”

“No, you can’t go to bed.” Candice snapped her compact shut and dropped it into her small handbag. “We’re just getting started.” She rubbed her hands together. “Okay, girlies, where to first? Poker? Slots? Craps?”

“Do you have to go to the potty? Because I do too. Good idea.” Kelly tried to take Candice by the hand but Candice shook her off.

“What are you talking about? No one said anything about going to the bathroom.”

Kelly frowned at her while I laughed silently. I loved watching my harebrained buddies try to have a grown-up conversation. The several cocktails I’d consumed since my haircut was making it even more amusing than usual.

“You said you were going to crap, so call me crazy, but in my world, that means we need to find a toilet.” She smirked at Candice and then looked at me, rolling her eyes.

“If you had a functioning brain cell right now, you’d be dangerous,” said Candice. “I said do you want to play craps, not I have to go take a crap. Jesus, I don’t even use that word. You know I wouldn’t say that, what’s wrong with you?”

I decided to rescue my poor tipsy friend before she got too much dizzier trying to figure out what Candice was talking about. “Craps is a game, sweetie. Gambling. Where you throw the dice across the table and that guy has that hockey stick he uses to push and pull chips around? Like on TV where the guy’s on a roll making a bunch of money and everyone’s standing around cheering for him while he throws the dice?”

Seconds ticked by and then a virtual lightbulb went on over Kelly’s head. “Ooooohhh, you mean the gaaaame craps. That makes waaaay more sense. It’s true … you never say crap unless you’re around people you want to impress and then you say that word instead of saying shit.”

“No, I don’t,” said Candice, looking miffed or maybe a little embarrassed.

“Yes, you do,” said Kelly, completely oblivious to Candice’s mood change. “Okay, let’s play this crap thing. This crappy crapper craps game.” She giggled.

Candice rolled her eyes. “Do I want to get her another drink, Andie?”

“Yes and no,” I said. “Yes, because it’s her bachelorette party and yes we want her to get good and hungover later so she never forgets this trip and how much fun it is to be single … and no, because I hate it when people barf. It makes me barf when I see it. And if she drinks too much more…”

“…she’s gonna barf,” Candice finished for me.

“Exactly.”

“Waitress!” yelled Candice, running after a barmaid with a tray.

Kelly and I watched her go. “What’s she doing?” Kelly asked.

“Getting us drunk.”

“Aren’t we already drunk?” she asked, scratching her head.

I smoothed down the hair that was sticking up as a result of her confusion. “You are and I’m nearly there. But this is your party, little sis, so you must drink until you fall over or until you kiss a stranger.”

Kelly looked at me in horror. “I did not come to Las Vegas to cheat on Matty!”

“Then you better start drinking,” I said, handing her one of the cocktails Candice brought over.

“How’d you get these so fast?” I asked her, looking down into the glass, wondering if I was drinking something she found next to a slot machine.

“What can I say? Cleavage works.” Candice raised her glass high. “Here’s to winning big tonight and possibly getting laid in Vegas!”

“Here’s to getting married!” said Kelly, raising her glass.

“Here’s to getting getting married and laid in Vegas!” I said, clinking all of their glasses and downing my drink in one, giant, three-swallow gulp session.

Candice looked at Kelly. “Do you think she knows what she just did?”

“Nope.” Kelly giggled, sipping on her straw.

“Shut up, buttheads. You know what I meant.” As if I’d drink to getting married in Vegas. Shuh, right. That totally didn’t fit into my lifeplan or my personality.

As soon as I finished my drink and put the glass down on a nearby shelf, we locked arms and walked into the casino area of the hotel. Having my girlfriends on either arm made walking in Kelly’s ferocious heels way easier, so I was all for it, even though it made quite the barrier for people trying to get by. Whenever anyone scowled at us, I smiled big and said, “She’s getting married. To a mortician. This is her going away party,” and they’d turn their frowns upside down. It was like Vegas magic or something. It was impossible to be cranky here.

As we left the restaurants and lobby behind, we entered a darker area of the huge facility. The casino. Bells were dinging all over the place, lights of every single color of the rainbow were flashing and blinking, and thousands of people milled around. There were slot machines in groups with small passageways between them to get by and chairs filled with butts. People were dropping quarters like there was no tomorrow, pulling one-armed bandits as fast as the money clanged into place.

A group of tables were across the aisle from the slot machine section, all of them with gree

Date: 2015-04-20; view: 770