Page 65 of Keep Vegas

The girls giggle. They’re all extraordinarily tan and have that blonde hair only a second-rate stylist can achieve, but they all reach out to me. They’re sweet and kind, and I realize I’m letting my snob show. I tuck back my upbringing and smile at these women who want to help or harem up my friend.

“Tell us. Leave none of the ugly out.”

Marnie says, “Start with a picture, a visual to see what we’re working with.”

Law slurps his beer and crosses his legs, and all the women watch. I’m not unattractive. Should I tell them I’m a billionaire? Maybe that will bring focus back to the problem at hand.

Law says, “He doesn’t have one.”

I pull up my phone. “You can scroll.”

His eyes pop out of his head. “You really do owe me two mil.” I nod. “Oh, shit. Let me see. Damn. She is hotter than I remember. How drunk was I in Vegas? I do not remember this little raven-haired snack.”

I rip the phone from him and point at him. Then shake my head no.

I look to the ladies and ask, “How much of this story do you want?”

A one of the bottle blondes with lips the color and texture of cherry pie filling bends deeply over the table, so I can be eye to eye with her impressively popped nipples instead of her eyes. I scoot my chair back an inch trying not to be rude at this gift but really not wanting it.

All the women cackle as she sits back down and Marnie says, “You’re in deep. Nobody looks away from Wendy’s hypnotic twins.” She purses her lips and does a reverse wave to indicate she wants it all.

Law signals the bartender for more drinks and puts his palm out to me. I slap my black card in it while he yells across the bar, “And a fuck-ton of chicken wings.” Then he turns to me. “Start at the beginning. I don’t think I even know the full shiz.”

“This bar tab is coming out of your end of the two mil.” I raise my eyebrows at my brother from another mother.

Law smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder. The women swoon. Good lord the man could probably do them all right here and now.

He was twelve when all the Paris shit went down. All the Lizzie and Hayden stuff as well as my own story. Law also had many things on his plate then, including club baseball all the fucking time. There’s no way he knows most of my story from that time.

“The beginning, well, it’s going to sound corny, but it all began in Paris. Senior year of high school…”

One girl keeps wiping tears from her eyes, even though we’re way past the saddest part of my story. Marnie gestures to me, and I laugh because her arms are doing a floppy thing. “You look like the blow up figure in front of the gas station where that flops and flies.”

“Oh, shit. She can totally dance like that. Do it, bish. Do it,” one of the blondes yells and points to her friend.

They all have very similar names with Ws, so I can’t keep them straight. Windy, Wendy, one of them might be Wendell. I look over, and the one I call Wendell has stood up and is blowing in the nonexistent breeze. We all bust out laughing, and Law moves Marnie deeper into his lap.

Marnie clears her throat and points at me. “Now. You know what you have to do, right? Even if she’s a backstabbing bitch, you have to hear her out. You gots to know when and what.” She’s smacking her hand with her fist.

She leans towards me and says, “You need to get the deets. The closure. If there’s a good reason she ghosted twice then so be it. It is what it is. And you can bail if you like. But if she’s like other level, then you need to pound her into the mattress. Either way, you gots to know.”

I point at Marnie and yell, “I gots to. You are a wise and very horny woman. I gots to know. I release you, my brother. Go make this woman come.” She’s a prophet in a plastic body, but the heart is pure. I answer these women earnestly. I’m not sure I’ve been this drunk in a couple of years. But I gots to know.

They all laugh as Law stands up and places Marnie at his side. He whispers in her ear, then uses his phone.

The girls all hug me as I gather my things and sign the bill. Wendell thanks me for the multiple colorful drinks called ZuZus. “Thank you. Good luck. And if it turns out she’s not it, we hang out here kind of all the time. Come on back, cutie.” Another one appears over Wendell’s shoulder.

“We’ll take real good care of you.”

I nod to my potential three or foursome and punch Law in the arm. I don’t know where I’m going, but I need to get out of here. I’m almost to the door when Law slings an arm around me.

“Come on, sad sack.”

I grin, and we climb into a waiting car.

We’re perched on his insanely bright white leather couch with our feet up, headsets on, fake shooting the shit out of things on Law’s obscenely large TV.

“That’s not fucking fair. Asshole. Where did you get that knife?”