Lost in Las Vegas

by Melody Carlson

  Taylor narrowed her eyes like she was weighing her options, then finally said, “Dare.”

  Eliza was clearly disappointed, and DJ was curious about what her question would’ve been.

  “Are you sure?” Eliza asked Taylor.

  But Taylor just nodded and took another long swig. “Go for it.”

  “Okay,” said Eliza in a devious tone, “but you may want to change your mind when you hear the dare.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “All right. I dare you to strip down to your underwear and walk all the way through the casino and back.”

  “No way,” said DJ. “She’ll get arrested.”

  “This is Vegas,” pointed out Eliza. “Besides, she can decline and do truth instead.”

  But Taylor did not decline. A few minutes later, Eliza wheeled the room service cart out into the hallway and left it by someone else’s door. Then, Taylor, despite DJ’s pleading, strutted through the crowded casino in her underwear and three-inch heels.

  Okay, it was very pretty underwear — hot pink and lacy, and at least she had on panties and not a thong — but it was still underwear. DJ watched from the sidelines in horror. Meanwhile, Eliza, keeping a distance of about fifteen feet, appeared to be stalking her. Some people barely seemed to notice the gorgeous scantily clad girl. But they were in Vegas after all — they’d probably seen it all. And other onlookers, mostly guys, hooted and clapped and asked for phone numbers and dates. But even the security guards seemed blasé. DJ wondered what they’d do if Taylor was naked.

  Finally, it was over, and DJ wished she’d thought to bring down a bathrobe or something. But she felt it took all she had to keep up with these two. Really, Taylor and Eliza were like gasoline and matches — a dangerous and potentially explosive combination. If only DJ could be the fire extinguisher to put their fires out — or just keep them at a safe distance.

  Then, just when DJ was about to let out a sigh of relief, two thirty-something couples got into the elevator with them. They all took one shocked look at Taylor and looked away. Except that the men looked back, and the women looked like they wanted to hit somebody — either their men or Taylor. DJ wasn’t sure.

  But when the elevator stopped on the twenty-third floor so the two couples could get off, Taylor, in her most seductive voice said, “What happens in Vegas . . . stays in Vegas.” One of the women turned around and gave Taylor a discrete but intense middle-finger salute. Then, as the doors closed, Eliza burst into giggles, Taylor sighed as if bored, and DJ just shook her head. Really, it was hopeless.

  It was nearly eleven by the time they were back in their room and Taylor had put her clothes back on. But that little escapade must have reenergized the crazy pair, because it seemed that Eliza and Taylor were just warming up. They begged DJ to go down with them, but she told them, “No way,” and reminded them that they had promised a girls’ day of fun.

  “But it’s nighttime now,” said Taylor as she reached for her new Kate Spade bag.

  “And soon it will be tomorrow,” said Eliza as she stood by the mirror near the door and touched up her mascara. “And this is Vegas, dahling, the town that never sleeps.”

  DJ knew there was no stopping them, besides she was too tired to even try. At least Taylor wouldn’t be alone tonight. Not that Eliza was a great comfort.

  “Hurry,” said Taylor. “My mom will be back any minute.”

  And just like that they were gone. DJ went to bed. Before she went to sleep, she prayed, asking God to keep the two foolish girls safe. Then she asked God to help her make it through tomorrow and Christmas. She finally said a weary, “amen,” and then just before drifting to sleep she added on a P.S. as if she’d been writing a letter. “And, if you’re not too busy, God, maybe you can find me a quicker way to get back home. Thanks.”

  The next morning, DJ was shocked to discover that Taylor wasn’t in her bed. Plus her bed hadn’t been slept in. But then she remembered Eliza and figured Taylor must’ve stayed in her room. At least she hoped so. Just the same, DJ didn’t want to run into Eva this morning. She didn’t want to have to play Miss Congeniality. Or to explain her missing daughter. She didn’t want to lie either. So, without even showering, DJ pulled on yesterday’s sweats and grabbed her bag and slipped out of the quiet suite.

  Once again, she went to Starbucks. She ordered a mocha and a blueberry muffin, then found a soft leather chair in a corner and made herself comfortable. She wished she could hide out there all day and pretend Taylor and Eliza didn’t exist. However, she left her cell phone on just in case.

  By noon no one had called. DJ was tempted to call Casey just to complain. But she could imagine how Casey would lay into her for being such a fool. To meet Taylor in Vegas and have Eliza pop in? No, that was too humiliating. Finally, DJ decided to go check on her friends. Hopefully they hadn’t been abducted by nasty old men or aliens last night. As soon as she went into the suite, she realized her mistake.

  “Oh, there you are,” said Eva a bit too eagerly.

  “Good morning.” DJ forced a smile.

  “Where is Taylor?”

  DJ glanced over to the bedroom she and Taylor shared. The door was open and DJ had left it closed.

  “I can see she’s been out all night.”

  “Yes.” DJ nodded. “But I think she’s with Eliza.”

  “Eliza?”

  So DJ quickly explained, and Eva seemed notably relieved. “Tell Taylor that I’d like to meet Eliza.”

  “I will. Although she leaves on a red-eye flight for Paris tonight. That’s where her family is spending Christmas. They have an estate there.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I’ll tell her.” Then DJ went into the room, put on her swimsuit, and got her pool things. Before she headed down to the pool, she knocked on Eliza’s door. No answer. She knocked louder. “Eliza!” she called, “Open up!”

  A housekeeper paused, looking at DJ. “Did you forget your key?”

  “Yes,” said DJ. “I was heading to the pool and — ”

  “Let me help.” And just like that, the maid waved her magic card through the door and DJ walked in. Although she felt guilty for lying, she also felt desperate. She thanked the maid, entered the suite, and closed the door. It was similar to Eva’s suite, but with only one bedroom. She tiptoed toward the bedroom, preparing herself for anything.

  But to her relief, Taylor and Eliza, still fully clothed, were on top of the queen beds. Probably passed out. DJ paused long enough to be sure they were still breathing, and she considered tossing a blanket over them, but thought why bother? It’s not like they took their health seriously. Then, without saying a word, she slipped back out.

  “Everything okay?” asked the maid.

  “Just fine. Thanks.” She considered putting a Do Not Disturb sign on the door, but if anyone deserved to be disturbed, it seemed like those two had it coming. For the next few hours, DJ swam laps, sunned, read her book, got a nice late lunch, which she ate poolside in the cabana, and took a nice little nap. She enjoyed herself. Really, she wondered, what was wrong with that? Once again she had to question what was it about drinking, flirting, and clubbing that was so enticing to some girls? Was it worth the risks? And what about the hangovers? Really, it seemed totally crazy.

  By the time DJ returned from the pool, it seemed that her friends were in agreement. Somehow Eliza and Taylor managed to make it back to Eva’s suite, but they both still looked a little green around the gills.

  “I’m not going to do that again,” Eliza assured DJ as she held a cold washcloth to her forehead.

  “At least not real soon?” DJ couldn’t help but be skeptical. But Eliza didn’t respond. Taylor was in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with a blank look on her face. “Are we having fun yet?” teased DJ.

  Taylor threw a flip-flop at her. Then DJ went out to discover that Eliza was heading for the door. “Tell Taylor I’ll be in my suite,” she muttered as she shuffled out. “I thought I felt better, but now I�
��m not so sure . . .”

  At around six that evening, both Taylor and Eliza rallied. “Let’s get something to eat,” suggested Taylor.

  “Maybe some soup,” said Eliza tentatively.

  “Or a big thick steak,” said DJ dramatically, “bloody rare.”

  Eliza made a face and turned away, but DJ just laughed. She wasn’t being very nice, but she was only trying to remind Eliza of her stupidity. To drive the point home.

  “I think I’ll have a steak too,” said Taylor as they rode down the elevator. “And maybe some fried eggs on top, real greasy and — ”

  “Shut up!” Eliza leaned against the elevator wall. “Or I’ll hurl on both of you. I swear I will.”

  Taylor just laughed. But neither of them made any more food jokes.

  “You must have a cast-iron stomach,” said Eliza to Taylor as they walked through the casino toward the restaurant. No one ordered drinks with dinner, which DJ took as a good sign. After her soup, Eliza felt well enough to indulge in a salad too. Meanwhile, Taylor and DJ indulged in rib eye steaks.

  “I really wanted to see your mom perform,” said Eliza as they were finishing.

  “She’s on tonight at 7:30,” said Taylor. “Knock yourself out.”

  “Really? Can we still get tickets?”

  Taylor just rolled her eyes. “I’m not going. But I can get you a ticket if you really want to.”

  “Please, come,” urged Eliza. “Both of you.”

  “I’m happy to go.” DJ agreed for two reasons. For one thing, she really liked Eva’s voice. Besides that, it was a way to keep these girls out of the clubs. Although she suspected that Eliza wouldn’t be tempted tonight.

  “You two can go,” said Taylor as she signed the check. “I’ll get your tickets.”

  “What about you?”

  “There’s a good bass player at House of Blues tonight. You can meet up with me there after my mom’s concert.”

  Eliza tried to get Taylor to change her mind, but she refused. “I’ve seen her a bazillion times. And this bass player is really good.” Then Taylor walked them to the theater and secured the tickets as well as backstage passes before she took off. DJ decided not to worry about Taylor as she and Eliza found their seats — once again, down close to the front and in the center. And, once again, the concert was amazing and wonderful. Even Eliza seemed impressed.

  “Should we go backstage?” she asked DJ.

  “Sure. Eva said she wanted to meet you.”

  “Me?” said Eliza.

  DJ nodded and, acting like she’d done it before, led Eliza back to where an usher brought them to Eva’s dressing room. And there, she introduced Eliza. Eva smiled graciously as Eliza gushed about the concert.

  “Where’s Taylor?” Eva directed this at DJ, but before she could answer, Eliza jumped in.

  “She headed out already.” Eliza laughed. “I guess going backstage to meet your own mother isn’t such a thrill.”

  Eva laughed, but her eyes remained on DJ, a questioning look and sadness there. DJ forced a weak smile, and then they said good-bye and took off to catch up with Taylor. On the way to the club, DJ warned Eliza that she was not going in.

  “Why not?” demanded Eliza.

  “For one thing, I’m not old enough. Besides that I don’t have fake ID. Furthermore, I don’t want fake ID. So tell Taylor I’m going to bed.”

  Eliza looked disappointed. “Then I’ll tell you good-bye now. I’m flying out of here at 12:40 a.m.”

  DJ looked at her watch. “Do you know that it’s half past nine now?”

  “I’m aware of the time. My bags are packed, and the limo is scheduled. I’m fine.”

  “You better not get drunk and miss your flight.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Then, to DJ’s surprise, Eliza hugged her. “It was fun . . . well, sometimes.”

  “Merry Christmas,” said DJ.

  “To you too.” Then Eliza pulled out her fake ID, flashed it to the security guard, and walked into the club. Just like that. Easy breezy. And DJ went up to the suite, got ready for bed, tried to read awhile, but was soon asleep. Easy breezy. But when DJ woke up, it was nearly one in the morning and Taylor was not back. If all had gone well, Eliza should be in the air, which meant that Taylor was down there by herself and probably drinking.

  While one part of DJ was totally fed up and didn’t care, another part remembered the troubled look in Eva’s eyes tonight. So DJ got out of bed, pulled on her sweats, and headed down to the club. Hopefully, Taylor was still there. And hopefully Eliza had made her flight.

  DJ hung around the entrance of the club, looking in to see if she could spot Taylor until she was approached by a security guard. “Are you coming in?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, quickly concocting a plan. “But my friend is here. And she’s underage. You let her in with fake ID, and now her dad is coming here, and he’s got a cop with him, and there’s — ”

  He unhooked the velvet cord. “Come with me. You point her out, and she’s out of here.” He was already talking into his little radio device, alerting someone else.

  “Thanks,” said DJ as they made their way through the crowded room. And there up front on the dance floor, was Taylor, dancing with several guys in a way that would’ve been considered porn if she’d been dressed like last night. DJ pointed her out. “Her name is Taylor,” she told the guy. He relayed this to whoever was listening, then took DJ back out to wait. She looked nervously over her shoulder like she expected the cops any minute. Then another security guy escorted Taylor out and shoved her toward DJ. “You kids stay out of here! You show your face again, I’ll be calling the cops.” The other guard winked at DJ as she dragged a staggering Taylor away.

  16

  IT WAS AFTER TEN by the time DJ woke up the next morning. Taylor, safe in bed, appeared to be sleeping it off as DJ quietly made her way to the bathroom. She took her time in the shower and getting dressed, but Taylor was still sleeping. Big surprise. But DJ could smell coffee, so she went out to see Eva in the kitchen, humming quietly as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning,” said DJ.

  “Oh, good morning, DJ,” said Eva. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Taylor?”

  “Sleeping like a baby.”

  Eva smiled sadly. “Yes, she’s not a morning girl. But she did get in . . . not too late last night?”

  “Not too late.”

  She nodded. “I’m so glad you came, DJ. Taylor needs a friend like you.”

  DJ forced a halfhearted smile.

  “Help yourself to coffee. My breakfast is on the way. Feel free to order whatever you like.”

  “Actually, I think I’ll go down. I’ve gotten kind of addicted to Starbucks lately.”

  “Yes, a friend of mine claims they put something in their coffee.” She smiled and picked up the newspaper. “Enjoy.”

  DJ grabbed her bag. “I have my phone. If Taylor wakes up, she can call me.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  DJ went to Starbucks and ordered her regular mocha, this time with a bagel. She decided to call Rhiannon — just for moral support and encouragement. But Rhiannon’s phone went straight to messaging. So she tried Casey, determined not to mention that Eliza had been here. When she answered, Casey sounded grumpy.

  “What’s wrong?” asked DJ.

  “My parents.”

  “You didn’t ask them if you could come to Vegas, did you?”

  Casey laughed. “No. I’m not stupid. And after I heard about Eliza, well, I’m not insane like some people.”

  “How did you hear?”

  “Rhiannon told me. What a mess.”

  “Don’t rub it in. At least she’s gone. Now it’s just Taylor.”

  “Lucky you.” Then Casey used a bad word, which really wasn’t a good sign.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Casey lowered her voice. “My parents just started World War Three.”

  “Oh
. . . that’s too bad.”

  “Yeah . . . and on Christmas Eve too.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not really anything new . . . I mean, my parents always seem to fight more during holidays than any other time.”

  “I never knew that.” DJ had spent a lot of time in Casey’s home while growing up. She always thought of them as a perfect, happy family.

  “Well, they don’t do it if anyone is around. I mean, besides us kids.”

  So DJ told Casey about last night’s meltdown. “I was so bummed,” she admitted. “I’m sure I was feeling envious of you around that time, wishing I was with a normal family, celebrating the holidays with love and good cheer.”

  Casey laughed with sarcasm. “Talk about a fractured fairy tale.”

  “Well, it might not be that great, but I think it’s better than trying to keep Taylor out of trouble. What a way to spend Christmas!”

  “Seems like you would’ve thought of that sooner.”

  DJ could tell she wasn’t going to get any sympathy from Casey. If anything, it seemed that Casey was still jealous — and grumpy. “Well, hang in there,” DJ finally said. “I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Pray for my parents — they’re the ones who need it.”

  DJ closed her phone and shook her head. Was it just her imagination or was the whole world a mess? Were there any “normal” families out there? Ones with genuine love and good will toward each other? Conner seemed to have a decent family — and they were probably having a good time skiing in Montana. And even Eliza, despite her lack of good sense, seemed to have a fairly good family — or maybe it was just an act, the kind that the very wealthy are so clever at putting on.

  DJ tried not to feel sorry for herself as she walked through the hotel lobby. Although it was decorated for Christmas, it was too much and over the top — just like everything else in Vegas. Even the Christmas music sounded overdone and gaudy and fake. Really, who spends Christmas in Vegas?

  Then she thought of Eva. She was here to work and didn’t really have much choice. And, although she was a bit oblivious, she seemed to have some inkling that all was not well with her daughter. And yet what could Eva do? Lock her up? That’s when it occurred to DJ that perhaps she could make this Christmas a bit more cheerful for Eva . . . and maybe for Taylor too. Not that Taylor would notice or care.