by Skylar Dawn
Lou nodded and was just waiting for me to do something. The girls were near the door of the Caffé.
"Nieber just left in a fancy car," I sighed, "but did you know he comes here often?"
A redheaded girl screamed in a B-flat tone and ran to the counter.
"Always?“
"Every time he's in town," Lou said.
"And he loves chocolate naked cake with lemon soda," I added. "He always have some. It's his favorite."
"I want some!" Screamed a brunette with curly hair.
"No, I want it all!" Snapped a girl on the back.
By the time we noticed, there was a line on the Caffé door. Lou looked at me flashed me a smile full of gratitude.
"There's naked cake for everyone! You can sit down that I'll bring it to your table. And the wifi is free."
The crowd settled in, Lou prepared the dishes and I helped him serve. We barely had time to breathe between one order and the next. A couple hours later we had to close Caffé and announce that tomorrow we would open again. All they had to do was to get there early to try everything Nieber loved.
I went back to the apartment search on my laptop while Lou was closing the doors. Only a single alternative appeared as a result and without hesitation, I called the number indicated on the advertisement. Lou sat next to me and took a deep breath, tired.
"If you manage to get people here, ten percent of what we had today, the job is yours."
"Easy," I laughed. And on the other side of the line, an old lady answered the phone. I could go see the apartment right now. She was kind enough to let me move in, in case I liked it. I knew that coming to Vegas was what I needed to do, and with so much going on, that was the cosmic sign that I needed to be absolutely sure that even though the others were the ones playing in the casinos, I was the luckiest one in town.
#
Lou gave me a ride to the apartment that was about 15 minutes from the Strip, by car. The place was clean from the outside, well cared for and was in a small two-store building. It had a pool and a very large common area. It was better to be away from the excitement because I needed a lot of focus and I'm sure that aside from blowing my pockets, I was going to end up finding other Bretts if I got too close to anything with more than 5% of alcohol.
A shrunken, white-haired lady with a thin and slender figure was waiting for me near the stairway to the apartment block. She wore a pale pink cardigan and held a gigantic keychain with both hands.
"You must be Emma," she smiled and shook my hands.
"Mrs. Dunn, I'm very happy to have been able to talk to you so quickly. I just arrived in town."
She pointed at my suitcase and frowned.
"And you only brought this one bag?"
"The less weight the better," I smiled.
Mrs. Dunn motioned to the stairs and Lou took my bag to the upper floor then came back down again.
"Are you going to be okay, Emma?"
"Yes Lou, thanks for your help." I nodded.
He smiled and shook Mrs. Dunn's hands.
"Take good care of her. This girl saved my life today. " He turned to me and gave me a hug. "Thank you for everything. I'll see you tomorrow at ten. "
We stood there for a few minutes waiting for Lou to get back into his car, and Mrs. Dunn gave me the keys to the apartment.
"If you need anything dear, my apartment is at the end of the hall in the next building, but on the ground floor."
"Thank you."
I went upstairs and dragged my suitcase to the last door in the left hallway. I stuck the key in the lock, turned around a couple of times and opened the door to my new house.
The living room was large, with a mini kitchen and had a balcony that overlooked the pool. At the back there was the entrance to the master suite, which had a small bathroom, but I didn’t need much. I was relieved, a change of scenery was doing me good, and I had barely stepped into the city.
I threw myself on the couch without the courage to do anything else, grabbed my phone and texted Mia:
I have a job and a home. I haven't met any Bretts.
She was asleep, after all, on the east coast it was 1:00 in the morning. Not to mention she had the habit of going to sleep and wake up in chicken hours. Beauty sleep, she used to say. Look, if sleeping had the ability of improving looks, I would spend the whole day snoring with cucumbers on my eyes. That's genetic, or a lot of plastic surgery. I believe in the theory that there are no ugly people, what happens is a limitation of investment capital. To my surprise, my cell phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Yet.
And buzzed again.
I meant, great! Oops.
I threw my phone back on the coffee table and laughed, Mia's elephant subtleties always happened at the perfect time. She used to say it was by accident, but I was sure that so much acidity had to be planned. And speaking of planning, I needed to structure my revenge before going around enjoying Vegas. If I knew myself, I would need someone accompanying me and demanding milestones in the process. Without a plan it would be exactly like when my dad taught me how to ride a bike. He removed the training wheels and let me go. His hands were off my bike and he waved at me. I ended up with my face on a pole because I didn't know whether to pedal, yell at him or look forward. I ended up doing all three. This time it couldn't be only Mia, it had to be something bigger.
I had a fantastic idea.
I grabbed my laptop and opened it, drumming my fingers on the keyboard while it booted. Instead of writing, I turned on the camera. I was going to do vlogs and post on the internet. It was time to gather the world's girl power to help me. I opened my mouth and talked nonstop, from my difficulty to quit sweets to Brett's last episode. I knew I had chosen the right thing, not because I thought someone would see my crazy daydreams, but talking about it certainly helped and after a while I was sure I was going to be able to measure my own progress. It was all raw. No editing, no special effects, no filter. Only me and my camera followed by a send button. And after that moment I had no structure to think about anything else, and since I was exhausted, I fell asleep.
#
I woke up too early, the sun was not even up and I was already there saying goodbye to my usual morning laziness. I only needed to be at Lou's Caffé at ten, so I thought it would be important to start my workout routine. I hate running, I can't ride bikes, I dread gyms. With these limited options, I decided my best chance was to improvise a water aerobics session in the pool, that way I could still tan and not look too much like a ghost from a cold coast.
I got into my bathing suit, barely combed my hair, and wrapped myself in a huge tee. There seemed to be no one in the building and if there were, now in the morning they would be asleep. I went downstairs and crossed the lawn towards a part of the pool where it made a semi-circle. I took off my shirt, put it on top of the chair and tried to stretch my legs. It hurt so bad that I almost called quits and counted it as an entire workout session.
"Good morning, dear! How was your first night? "
Mrs. Dunn was in a red bathing suit doing a Yoga pose that even if someone folded me into four pieces I wouldn't be able to imitate. A mix of lying dog with a three-knot snake, or whatever the movements are called these days.
"Very comfortable, I blacked out."
"I'm glad. Are you going swimming?" Mrs. Dunn gestured to the pool with her big toe.
"I thought I'd improvise a water aerobics session," I shrugged my shoulders, "I need to lose a few pounds."
Mrs. Dunn looked at me from head to toe and smiled.
"You look great. If it's about the guys, know that they like girls that have a little more to hold on to."
I made a face. Not at all! If there was one thing I wanted away from was the damn guys, they don't bring anything good. I mean, there's a lot of good stuff, but the price to pay wasn't worth it at the time. “No guys,” I laughed off. "They are too much trouble."
Mrs. Dunn untied herself from the knot on the floor, shook her hair and jumped into the pool.<
br />
"Girls like it too."
“I like guys,” not believing I should explain myself to an old lady. "But the ones I attract are definitely trouble."
I hit play on my phone, but I kept the volume down so it wouldn't disturb the neighbors. I wasn't going to make enemies right on my first day in the new apartment.
"You can turn it up the volume honey, half the apartments are empty, and the other half only listens when they turn on their hearing aids," she laughed.
I obeyed Mrs. Dunn and joined her in the pool, prepared to sweat one thousand calories to the sound of Single Ladies until my tummy became non-existent like Beyoncé’s. From afar I spotted two other ladies coming towards us. One was taller and plumper, wearing a yellow bikini that you could see from the east Coast. The other one was short and skinny, and came in a very low-cut black swimsuit. The two waved to Mrs. Dunn, who returned the greeting by calling them to join us in the water.
"What a delight!" The tallest lady jumped into the pool with the vitality of a ten-year-old child.
Mrs. Dunn rubbed her face and smirked.
"Alma, stop messing around."
She barely shut her mouth and the other lady jumped in such a flamboyant way that a huge wave covered us, spreading water everywhere. Mrs. Dunn burst into laughter.
"Ah, of course Amelia," the yellow-bikini lady grimaced, "I'm grounded, but Edith can do whatever she wants to do."
"I'm older."
"Let me introduce my new tenant," Mrs. Dunn pointed at me. "This is Emma Woods. We're improvising a water aerobics session." She then turned to the ladies. "My friends here are Alma Davis and Edith Wilson."
"Excellent," Mrs. Davis shook her shoulders, "I need to move my pelvis."
Mrs. Wilson rolled her eyes. "Since the doctor said we need to prevent sarcopenia, she got into this fitness craze."
"Nice to meet you," I addressed the two ladies, “and you both look great."
"Don't I know?" Mrs. Davis put her hand on her waist and snorted unsatisfied. We burst into laughter.
"Have you come to try your luck in Vegas?" Mrs. Wilson asked.
"It depends on the point of view." It was a half answer, of course. I had no need to explain to three senior ladies that my idea was to become an exotic dancer.
Mrs. Dunn tapped my shoulder twice. "In my analysis, it looks like Emma's running away from watermelons."
"Watermelons?" I shot a confused look at Mrs. Dunn.
"I explain," Mrs. Davis came very close to me. "Can you eat a watermelon by yourself?"
"I never tried. But I don't think so."
"Exactly." She threw her index finger in the air as if she had a very logical explanation. "Watermelon Man is the one you're always having to share."
We were hysterical. The ladies were right. Definitely Brett was a watermelon, and a big one.
"That's the thing, you’re right. I'm running from a watermelon."
"I love watermelons! Especially when they're juicy." Mrs. Wilson gave me naughty smile. "I don't mind sharing. I like to have fun."
"Edith!" Mrs. Dunn patted her friend's shoulder.
The water aerobics session was so fun I didn't even see the time go by. Of course, we laughed a lot more than we exercised, but it was something. Under normal conditions of temperature and pressure my exercise quota was limited to rubbing my back in a hot shower. And I was feeling my muscles tremble, which was an excellent sign that they still existed! We decided to schedule our rendezvous for every Tuesday and Thursday morning.
#
I managed to get to Lou twenty minutes ahead of schedule and when I got into the Caffé, he was drinking a moss-green grub.
"Jeez Lou, what is this thing?"
Lou made a sign for me to wait, covered his nose, and drank the mold juice all at once.
"Detox Juice. I need to lose weight."
"What weight, you weigh less than a toothpick!"
"Oh, I love you!" he laughed. Only about two pounds. I have a date Thursday.”
That intrigued me. What kind of juice was that, that worked so fast? If it was really efficient, I'd better start taking it too. I had done so many weird diets over the years that a moldy juice didn't seem so menacing. It wasn't even close to a soup diet I had the guts to try in college. I bought all the expensive and weird ingredients and let the thing ferment for 72 hours. When it was time to eat it, the broth smelled like a dirty sock with rotten eggs. Then I gave up and ordered a pizza with extra cheese.
"I need this!" I ran up to the counter and looked at Lou with my eyes wide in excitement. "Where can I get it?"
"I make them. I'm actually testing some fitness recipes. Maybe I can build a fitness empire out of it."
"Let me be your guinea pig!" I begged. I need to lose a few pounds.”
Lou frowned, curious.
"Yes. I can do it for you every day, but you'll need a proper diet and an exercise routine as well."
"I've done my session today!"
"And I want to know exactly why you think you need it so much, because you look fine to me. Not that I understand much about that, but ..."
I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes.
"One day I'll tell you."
Lou shook his head and tapped on a stool next to him.
"Your face tells me there is something very interesting about this need, so you can sit here and tell me right now. Later on you worry about filling this place up with millennials."
I crawled to the stool and sat in a loud thud. Of course I had no problem telling Lou everything, after all I had already told on the internet anyway. In fact, it was much better to tell him to watch the video and take care of keeping my newly conquered job. So I grabbed his cell phone and put it on my online page. I took care of all social media stuff and worked on the window displays before people started to show up. I organized the pies, the cheesecakes and I still did some cute tags to decorate.
"My Saint Cabernet! What a scumbag! I need a slice of banana cake to calm me down. "
I laughed, took a plate out of the shelves and cut a small slice for him.
"I won't spoil your detox."
He hugged me and clung to the cake sitting on the cashier's bench.
"I'm shocked."
"Just another jerk. No big deal."
“I'm not talking about the scumbag. I'm talking about your idea of becoming an exotic dancer," he laughed. "You're more like a next door neighbor than a naked dancer."
I took a deep breath, annoyed. That was exactly what I needed to change. That silly face that made the biggest jerks on earth feel compelled to take advantage off.
"I know."
"It's not going to be easy, but we can give you a makeover."
"We?" I tilted my head, surprised.
"We," he reinforced. "Of course I'll help you. My joy is to make a jerk get screwed. And if the juice works, you will be the model of my future empire."
I laughed. Me? A model? Only if it’s of what not to do in life when things go wrong. But being new to the city, I couldn't afford to refuse any help, on the contrary, the more friends I made, the greater my chances of being successful in my plan.
What I didn’t expect was that Lou would make one juice worse than the other and force me to take it every single morning for weeks in a row. A true gastronomic nightmare for those who stared at cheesecakes and delicious tarts all day long, without being able to eat a single slice.
"Eat a celery as a snack. It's a diuretic."
"Celery? It tastes like styrofoam! I'm not going to eat that crap, Lou."
Lou put his hands on his waist and tapped his foot on the ground, impatient.
"It's not even a month since you started and you're already complaining. I'm wondering if you workout as much as you complain."
"Beyoncé helps." I chewed on the celery and frowned at him.
"Cut the drama," Lou rolled his eyes. “If I had a dollar for every time you frown, I'd own the Bellagio.”
His phone rang and he ran to the
counter. Whatever the conversation was, my celery seemed less painful to swallow. When he hung up, he touched his temples and let out a long breath.
"Trouble?" I raised an eyebrow.
Lou opened the display and cut a huge chunk of chocolate cake. He was so angry that the cherry on top flew to the door of the Caffé.
"Jerk! He canceled our date." He slammed his phone on the counter and dove into his cake slice.
"I know the type," I smiled, "but you can still, and must, go out and have fun. "
"You're right," he said with his mouth full. "I'm going out. And you're coming with me."
"What? I'm not going out. You know I’ll panic if I find another Brett."
Lou walked up to me with the slice of cake in his hand and threw my celery inside the trashcan, extending his fork towards me.
“I'm taking you off your diet today. And I'll pick you up at ten. Be gorgeous."
CHAPTER three
Murderers and Neighbors
It was ten-fifteen when a limousine with pink neon lights honked in front of my apartment. I opened the front door and went outside to take a peek, and of course, Lou's chest popped through the car's ceiling carrying a giant bottle of champagne.
"Hurry up, Emma Woods," he shouted as soon as he finished a huge sip. "I pay the limo by the hour!"
I was sure it was a bad idea, but my behavior was so exemplary in the last weeks that I deserved a night out in the best Vegas style, as long as it fit in my budget and didn’t disturb my plans. I went inside, grabbed my micro-purse and got off on the same foot. I wasn't prepared for any of this, but I needed to relax and see where the night would take me anyway.
The driver opened the limousine door and the music inside was so loud that I only understood that Lou was offering me a drink because he pushed his bottle of champagne on my breasts before I could even sit. I took a modest sip and returned the poison to him, after all, he seemed to need it a lot more than I did. He refused and left me with that whole bottle in my hands. Then I noticed he was opening another one and he was not very fond of using glasses.