The Dare

Chapter 29:What Happens in Vegas

Ryan

Saying I'm surprised to see Malia sitting at the black jack table would be the understatement of the century. I'd been asking for over a week if she'd come to town while in Reno on business and I got various versions of hell no.  Some of those were even in different languages.  I finally gave up asking. I'm not sure how much arm twisting Elena had to do, or what deal with the angels she had to make, to get her here. It doesn't matter, as far as I'm concerned the price is worth it, and I'll gladly reimburse her for her troubles. I should have known something was up. The last two days, Jesse kept excusing himself to talk on his phone.  I mean I kinda knew he was planning something but I honestly expected strippers and a cake. 

She's wearing  killer pumps and a dress with a corset type back that I want to unwrap like a present. She's told me more times than I can count the museum was a one off.  My folks raised me to be a gentleman.  I can respect her no means no, but it doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy on her.

The studio was nice enough to set up a VIP event for my birthday. It's a chance for a couple hundred guests to hang with the cast.  It's the perfect cover because we can spend time together without attracting too much attention.   We're on our third round of shots when an overzealous fan steps forward. And by overzealous I mean full on proposition.  She offers me the key to her hotel room and invites Jesse to join in.  There was a time when I would have jumped at the idea.  You know that time back when I was young and stupid.  Turns out she's the goddaughter of some studio exec and I have to make nice with her.   I smile and pull out the ole Texas charm.

"Karen.  If you're planning to spend time in your room. You're not doing Vegas right." 

"Oh really?"

"Sure.  They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but only because nobody's allowed to tell what really happens in Vegas."

She laughs that fake falsetto girls use as if I've said the funniest shit ever.

"What can I get you Karen?" I ask signaling for the waitress.

"Sex on the Beach."  Innuendo full on display. I glance over to see if Malia's hearing any of this but she's already made her way onto the dance floor.  If I'm comfortable on a sound stage, she's most at home amidst a sea of undulating bodies.  The dance floor catapulting her to a little piece of Nirvana.  She and Elena have their hands up in the air spinning and turning around each other.  I've got my fingers crossed that this evening doesn't end in another fist fight.  

"What does the birthday boy want for his birthday?"

"What all men want." 

Karen bats her eyes.  "Birthday sex?"

"A smooth shot of Tennessee Whiskey."  If I'm lucky, the birthday sex will come later in the form of my five foot three bride.  By the telltale sign of shot glasses on their vacant table, I'd say she's about 2 glasses away from being unable to make good choices.  Better cut her off now.  I want her fully cognizant and invested in the after hours festivities.  I excuse myself to the restroom to unload the ounces I've already consumed.

On my way back I take a detour to the dance floor and stand on the edge watching. She spots me and disentangles herself from the clutches of some prep school boy band member.

"Hey. What's up birthday boy? Having fun?"

"I am. Are you?"

She nods closing her eyes and bobbing her head in time to the music.

"I see you made a friend." She points to the VIP lounge where Karen is watching. "Did you take her up on her offer?"

"For the drink?" I ask.