“And she’s still quite respected in the fashion world. Anyway we actually live with her in Connecticut. And she manages us.”
DJ kind of laughed. “Or mismanages us, as the case may be.”
“So what kind of modeling do you do?” asked the blonde girl.
“So far just runway,” said Taylor. “But I think Mrs. Carter is looking into some print possibilities too.”
“Like fashion magazines?” asked Katie.
Taylor tossed a thick strand of dark curls over her shoulder and nodded with a bored expression. “And catalogs.”
DJ was trying to figure out something to say that would set these girls straight, but to be fair, Taylor hadn’t actually lied . . . just misled.
“And you’re really going to be in Fashion Week?” asked the blonde girl. She seemed to be directing this to DJ, almost as if she wasn’t buying this. “In New York City?”
“Yes. We’re doing a show for a new designer.”
“Who?” demanded Katie.
“You probably haven’t heard of him.” Taylor glanced at DJ, and DJ knew that Taylor couldn’t remember his name.
“Dylan Marceau,” said DJ.
“That sounds kind of familiar,” said the blonde. “I’ll have to google him.”
Taylor nodded. “Yes, you’d probably like his designs. They’re not terribly sophisticated . . . more of a practical sort of fashion.”
DJ smirked at Taylor. “He designs clothes you can actually wear, not just strut around in.”
“Speaking of strutting,” said Katie. “Can you guys show us how to do the walk — you know the one they do on the runway.”
DJ laughed. “Not me. If you want to see really good strutting, have Taylor show you.”
Soon they were all urging Taylor to strut her stuff, but Taylor was brushing them off.
“Come on,” said Tony. “Show us how it’s done, Taylor.”
Now Taylor just shrugged. “Fine. Watch and learn.” And, just like that, she went over to an open area and executed a perfect catwalk up and down the deck next to the pool. Even the music seemed to cooperate with her as she held her head high and placed one foot in front of the next, strutting confidently past sunbathers who couldn’t help but look up and watch. And when she finished, everyone — including the slightly stunned sunbathers — applauded with enthusiasm.
“Wow,” said Tony when Taylor rejoined them at the cabana. “That was hot.”
“You really are good,” admitted Katie with surprise.
“Can you teach us?” asked the blonde.
“I could,” said Taylor. “But I’m not going to.”
Tony laughed. “Give the girls a break. They’re on vacation.”
“That’s right,” agreed Arden. “It’s not like this is some reality make-me-a-model TV show.”
“Thank goodness for that,” said DJ.
The girls still peppered DJ and Taylor with modeling questions until DJ was getting a little fed up. So she decided to change the subject. “So, do you know who Taylor’s mother is?”
Taylor tossed DJ a slightly exasperated look, but it was too late.
“Someone famous?” asked Arden with curiosity.
“Anyone heard of Eva Perez?” DJ glanced around the group.
Katie nodded. “Oh, yeah, she’s performing here.”
“Is that your mom?” asked Arden, clearly impressed.
Taylor nodded, then went over to the mini fridge and pulled out a beer. DJ got the distinct feeling that Bud was for her. She probably should’ve kept her mouth shut. But, in a way, Taylor had started it with the modeling bit.
“Can you get us a deal on tickets?” asked Tony hopefully.
Taylor shrugged. “You really want to hear her?”
“Oh, yeah. My parents are big fans of Eva Perez. It’d be great to tell them that I saw her in person.” He smiled at Taylor. “And that I actually hung with her daughter, the famous New York fashion model.”
Arden nodded. “Yeah, I can’t wait to tell the guys back at school. They’ll be sorry they didn’t come to Vegas with us.”
“I can probably get some tickets,” said Taylor casually.
“I’d like to hear her too,” admitted DJ. “I’ve been a fan for a while.”
“It figures.” Taylor rolled her eyes and took a long sip.
DJ could take a hint. Taylor wasn’t pleased that DJ had switched the limelight from them to her mother. Well, whatever. “I’m going to take a swim,” DJ announced to no one in particular.
“Need any company?” asked Arden.
DJ made a nonchalant face at him. “Well, if you think you can keep up.”
Arden laughed like he thought she was joking.
Of course, once he got into the pool and realized that DJ meant it, and that she was swimming laps — fast laps — he wasn’t laughing anymore. After awhile, he gave up completely, which suited her just fine. The workout felt good, and the water was cool and refreshing after the stuffy cabana. She soon lost count of how many laps she’d swum, but by the time she got out of the pool, Taylor’s cabana party seemed to be in full swing.
“You didn’t tell us that you were an Olympic swimmer,” commented Arden, as DJ returned with a towel wrapped around her like a sari.
“Models, singers, swimmers . . .” Katie held up her hands in a hopeless gesture. “You girls just seem to have it all going on.” But DJ could tell that Katie was still skeptical and maybe more than a little jealous. Not that it was DJ’s problem. This was Taylor’s gig, not hers.
DJ grabbed another sandwich and a soda and made herself comfortable in a lounge chair. Her plan was to feign a nap while she caught some rays and avoided having to engage with the partiers. But it wasn’t long before she was really getting sleepy. So she turned over to sun her back and quickly fell asleep.
The next thing she knew something cold was dripping down her back. Thinking someone had spilled something, she jumped up to see Arden standing over her with a bottle of sunscreen in hand. “Taylor told me to come give you a hand,” he said nervously. “So you don’t get burned.”
“Oh.” DJ frowned at him then lay back down. “Thanks.”
“Don’t let this December sun fool you,” he said as he rubbed the lotion onto her shoulders. “It burns just the same as in July.”
“Uh-huh,” she muttered, wishing he’d hurry it up. He seemed to be enjoying the process a little too much.
“So what do you think of Vegas?” he asked as he rubbed lotion onto her back.
“I don’t really know. I just got here this morning.” Maybe she could drop him a hint now. “But after being stranded at O’Hare overnight, I’d have to admit that this is an improvement.”
“You spent the night at the airport?”
“Yeah, and I’m exhausted. So don’t mind me if I doze off.”
“Sure . . . don’t let me disturb you.” Now she heard the lid click back onto the lotion bottle, and he returned to the partiers. She closed her eyes and sighed in relief. This was going to be a long week.
DJ woke up to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She fumbled through her bag and found it in time to discover it was Casey. “Hey, Casey!” said DJ happily. “What’s up?”
“Is it true?” demanded Casey.
“What?”
“Are you really in Vegas with Taylor?”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Rhiannon. I called her a little while ago, and she told me the whole thing, but I just can’t believe it. Is it true?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“It’s possible.”
“So where are you right now? What are you doing? What’s Taylor doing? Tell me everything.”
“There’s not much to tell,” admitted DJ. “I mean, we’re at the pool. Taylor has a cabana for us to use for the week. It’s like a little house, with a mini kitchen and furnishings and even a flat-screen TV.”
“Wow! That sounds cool.”
&nb
sp; DJ sat up now. “Yeah, it is kind of cool.” Next she described their luxurious suite.
“Now I’m starting to get seriously jealous.”
DJ laughed, then lowered her voice. “Don’t forget, I’m with Taylor.”
“Kind of like paying your dues.”
“I guess.”
“Even so, I wouldn’t mind being in your shoes.”
“I’m not wearing shoes.”
“Hey, maybe I could borrow the car and drive over.”
“How far is your parent’s place from Vegas?”
“Probably five hundred miles, give or take.”
“That’s a pretty long drive.”
“Yeah, my parents would probably say forget it.”
DJ didn’t want to mention that Casey’s parents would probably say to forget it for other reasons too — primarily being that this was Las Vegas. “How are your parents doing?” DJ decided to change the subject.
“Okay, I guess.”
“Bet they were glad to see you.”
“Meaning that they were relieved to see that I lost the Mohawk and piercings?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“They think your grandmother is a miracle worker.”
“Did you set them straight?”
“Are you kidding? If I did that, they probably wouldn’t let me go back.”
Then DJ told Casey about Fashion Week.
“Well, it’s a small price to pay,” said Casey. “I mean to get back with my friends.”
DJ smiled. It was nice to hear that from Casey — to hear that she considered the Carter House girls her friends. Who would’ve thought? They wrapped up their conversation. As DJ hung up, she heard Taylor calling out to her.
“Looks like we’re going to Mama Mia tonight,” announced Taylor.
“The musical?” asked DJ, confused.
Taylor laughed. “No, I mean we’re going to hear my mom in concert. Mama mia, get it?”
“And Taylor invited Arden and me to tag along too,” said Tony.
“Hope you don’t mind,” said Arden apologetically.
“And if you do,” said Katie eagerly, “I’d be happy to take your place.”
“I could only get four tickets,” Taylor told DJ, with a look that suggested perhaps she’d only wanted four tickets. “I think it’s sold out, but, hey, if you’re not interested — ”
“No,” said DJ quickly. “Count me in.”
“Cool,” said Arden, as if this somehow made this an official double date.
DJ forced a smile and figured she could set him straight later. But maybe she’d have to set Taylor straight first. Like that was possible.
12
“THIS DRESS,” TAYLOR INSISTED as she thrust a short, black sequined number at DJ. They were back in the room now, getting ready for the concert.
DJ frowned at the skimpy cocktail dress. “I think it’s too old for me.”
“No, it’s not. Just try it on, okay?”
“I don’t have shoes to — ”
“I have shoes. Come on. Just try it. We’re going to a concert in Vegas, DJ. It’s okay to dress up and have fun.”
DJ reluctantly took the dress off the hanger and carefully unzipped it. “This is a Vera Wang. It must’ve cost a fortune — ”
“Don’t freak, DJ. It was my mom’s. She probably got it for free — or nearly. Anyway, she doesn’t like it.”
“And she doesn’t mind if I wear it?”
”No, of course not. I’d wear it myself, except that it’s too tight,” Taylor thrust out her well-endowed chest, “and my girls don’t like feeling restrained.”
DJ laughed, then slipped on the dress. Although it was pretty short, she had to admit that it was somewhat conservative in the neckline. Kind of a Jackie O look, really. “Not bad,” she said as she checked it out in the mirror.
“It’s perfect for you.” Taylor nodded. “And I have the perfect shoes to go with it.”
“Wow,” said DJ when she saw Taylor adjusting a strap of her ruby-red satin dress. “You look really hot.”
Taylor held her head high. “I certainly hope so.” She joined DJ in front of the mirror. “The question is do I look hotter than you?” Now she frowned as if unsure.
“Of course, you do,” said DJ quickly. “You always do.”
“I don’t know . . .” Taylor frowned. “Blondes in black . . . I should’ve thought this one through a little better.”
“It’s not like we’re competing. And what about brunettes in red? Shouldn’t there be a rule against it?”
Taylor smiled smugly. “I do look hot, don’t I?”
DJ nodded.
“And we haven’t even done makeup or accessories yet.”
Taylor pulled open a couple of bathroom drawers, and the two girls continued to primp. DJ decided to keep her accessories simple, which Taylor agreed was the right thing. “Sophisticated and understated,” she told DJ. “Should we put your hair up, to help hide those damaged ends?”
DJ gave her long blonde hair a shake. “I think it’s fine down.”
“Fine, if you like going around with chlorine-zapped hair.”
“Whatever. Put it up if you want. But you know that I’m hopeless when it comes to doing hair.”
“We need Rhiannon here.” Taylor grabbed a brush and attacked DJ’s hair, brushing and brushing and finally twisting it into a fairly nice-looking style. “How’s that?”
“Not bad.”
Now Taylor swept her dark curls up into a tumbled sort of do with tendrils hanging down here and there. Next she helped DJ with her makeup. “Looks like you got a little too much sun,” she observed as she applied some eye shadow. DJ still couldn’t get the hang of eye shadow.
“Do I look burnt?” asked DJ.
“A little pink. But it’ll probably tan out.”
DJ looked at Taylor’s perfect bronze skin. “I wish I had your coloring.”
Taylor laughed. “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that line.”
“It’s not a line. Your skin is gorgeous, and you know it.”
Taylor shrugged. “It’s not everyone’s cup of tea.”
“Viva la difference.”
Taylor smiled into the mirror now. “We actually make a good pair — complementary coloring, you know.”
DJ struck a pose. “Yes, we are rather striking, aren’t we?”
“We’ll knock ’em dead.”
“By the way,” said DJ. “I don’t want Arden thinking that this is a date. He doesn’t, does he?”
“Who knows what he thinks?”
“Well, it’s not a date,” said DJ firmly.
“What difference does it make?”
“I just don’t want him to think that I’m into him, because I’m not.”
“You don’t think he’s good-looking?”
“Of course, he’s good-looking. But there’s Conner. Remember?”
Taylor chuckled. “And remember, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
“Nothing like that is going to happen to me.”
“You never know.” Taylor gave herself a final squirt of a perfume that looked expensive and smelled exotic.
The plan was to meet the guys downstairs, and since Eva was performing in the hotel, they could simply walk. Naturally, Taylor paired off with Tony, which left DJ and Arden together — like a couple.
“You look great,” said Arden as they walked behind Taylor and Tony.
“Thanks.”
“The guys back at our frat aren’t going to believe this.”
“Believe what?” asked DJ.
“That we took out the two hottest babes in Vegas. Professional models.”
DJ stopped walking now and turned to Arden. “That’s not exactly how it is.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, yes, we are modeling. But you need to understand — ”
“DJ!” Taylor had turned around and was calling to her. “Come on, we need to get in there before they close the doors.”
“I’ll explain later,” she told him as she tried to keep up. Her leg, although healed, still hurt sometimes, and running in high heels was not helping one bit.
As it turned out, Taylor was right. They were about to close the doors, and the four of them made it just in time.
“We’re down in front,” said Taylor.
“Wow, great seats,” said Arden as they slipped past others who were already seated. And then the lights went down and the music started. Suddenly, there was Eva in a perfectly round spotlight. She began to sing, and DJ wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard anything more beautiful. Really, it was nothing short of amazing. And to think DJ was sharing a penthouse suite with that woman and her daughter.
“That was spectacular,” gushed DJ when the foursome emerged from the theater. “Your mother is incredible, Taylor.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“She’s amazing,” said Arden. “I’m going to get some of her CDs.”
“My parents are going to be so jealous,” said Tony. “Thanks for inviting us, Taylor.”
“And to show our thanks, we made dinner reservations,” said Arden.
“You girls hungry?” asked Tony.
“I’m starving,” said Taylor.
“Me too,” admitted DJ. Okay, this still didn’t make it a date, but no way was DJ going to say no to food tonight.
After they were seated in what appeared to be a very elegant, and probably expensive, restaurant, Arden turned to DJ. “You were about to tell me something on our way to the concert.”
DJ glanced over to see Taylor giving her a narrowed-eye warning, and so DJ decided to play it safe. “What?” she said absently.
“Something you were about to say?”
DJ shrugged. “I don’t recall. Maybe it wasn’t important.”
The waiter appeared and asked what they wanted to drink. Without blinking, Taylor ordered a cosmo. And the waiter didn’t ask for ID. Then Tony and Arden both ordered pale ale. “And you, miss?” The waiter looked at DJ, probably guessing that she was underage. Although she didn’t know why he hadn’t carded the others.
“A Pelligrino, please.” The only reason DJ knew about this brand of bottled water was because her grandmother wouldn’t dream of drinking water straight from the tap. At least it sounded somewhat grown-up. Not that DJ cared or felt the need to impress anyone. Mostly she was aggravated — and hungry. After dinner, when she was alone with Taylor, she would have to establish some ground rules about drinking. Although, to be honest, DJ wasn’t even sure what they would be. It wasn’t as if she could force Taylor to knock it off. But at the same time, it seemed wrong to say nothing. Wouldn’t that be like condoning it? Now she was curious about these two college dudes. It was entirely possible that they too were underage.
Lost in Las Vegas Page 9