What Happens in Vegas (Girls Weekend Away)

by Shana Gray

  Landon regarded him thoughtfully, the air feeling heavy despite being broken by the noise from the nearby casino. “Dude, I think you’ve fallen for her.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Love at first sight isn’t a thing, and I’ve known her for all of two days.” No way could he admit to his brother that the thought had crossed his mind as well.

  “Look, you make your living reading people, instantly sizing them up. When you finally meet ‘the one,’ why wouldn’t you know right away? You know I’m right. I can see it in your eyes.” Landon’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it.

  Quinn took a few gulps of beer and thought about it. “All it was ever meant to be was fun. Nothing more.”

  “Maybe that’s what you told yourself, but c’mon. You wouldn’t be sitting here drowning your sorrows in beer if Bonni didn’t mean something to you.”

  Quinn sighed and shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this. If Dad could see us now, he’d call us a pair of pussies.”

  “Forget about Dad’s antiquated notions of masculinity. I’m your brother. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”

  Quinn gave a sideways look at Landon. “Fine. I’m starting to think…I mean, maybe I’m wondering if…there could be more. After Vegas. Even though she’s a cop, and I can tell she’s not entirely comfortable with gambling.”

  Landon straightened and tapped a finger on the bar. “You can always consider the alternative.”

  “And that is?” Quinn was skeptical, not really sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  “You can always come back into the fold. Become part of Bryant Enterprises. You know there’s a place for you, when you’re ready. Your ability to read people and adapt to situations on the fly would be of great use to the company.”

  “I don’t know. The whole reason I left home after high school was to get away from Dad and his ‘everything starts and ends with the company’ mentality. I worked too hard to break out of that mold and be my own man.”

  “Dad’s not in charge anymore. I am. You’ve proven you can make it on your own, without the family fortune, so now you’re just being a stubborn dick. Come back. Work with me. You’d still have to do some traveling, but there’s no reason you can’t base out of Canada.”

  Quinn found himself considering it. Something he never imagined he’d ever do. Give up his hard-won independence? Go back to the life he’d run far and fast from years ago? Or should he think of it like building a new life, one with Bonni in it? Just forty-eight hours and he was considering making these major changes. It was terrifying.

  “Are you seeing her tonight?” Landon asked.

  “We were supposed to have dinner at seven but she texted me to push it back. Plans with her friends. I texted her back but she hasn’t answered me.”

  Landon nodded and indicated to the bartender that they’d need another round. “Her friends are a lot of fun,” Landon told him.

  “To be honest, I really haven’t spent a lot of time with them. Been really focusing on Bonni.”

  “They must have been a wild group in their college days, because they really know how to party now.” There was something in Landon’s tone that made Quinn look sharply at his brother.

  “You asshole, you slept with one of them, didn’t you?”

  Landon took a sip of his beer and didn’t meet Quinn’s gaze.

  “Those are Bonni’s friends! How am I supposed to face her when my dickwad of a brother breaks one of her best friends’ heart?” Quinn’s voice cut through the noise of the bar, causing a few heads to turn in their direction.

  Landon pivoted on his stool. “First off, if I did engage in sexual activity with one of those ladies, rest assured it was consensual and she knew the score. Second, if you weren’t thinking long term with Bonni, why would it matter if I messed around with one of her friends?” he said, a knowing tone in his voice.

  Quinn shook his head and focused on his beer. “You are such an asshole.” No way would he tell Landon he was right.

  Landon picked up his beer and held it out to his brother. “Here’s to women who are worth changing for.”

  Quinn looked at his brother and Landon waggled the bottle, waiting. Would he really do it? Would he give up traveling to foreign countries, give up the thrill of living on the turn of a card? For Bonni? Knowing the answer, deep in his gut, he tapped his bottle against Landon’s. “I’m not saying I’m taking the job, but the benefits package better be damn attractive.”

  “Oh my God, persnickety, as Mom would say. It’s just like when we were kids and you couldn’t eat dinner if any of your foods were touching.”

  “You’re such a ball sack.” Calling him a name from their childhood.

  For Bonni, it’d be worth it. And, hopefully, she felt the same way.

  Chapter Twenty

  Quinn: Have fun with your friends. Text me when you’re done.

  Bonni read Quinn’s reply over again for the millionth time. It read so…emotionless. Was he angry? Was he okay with her decision? Did he care? Part of her wanted him to argue and persuade her to stick to their original plan. The other part was relieved he didn’t push her. It was all terribly confusing, and she felt like she’d been wrestling with her feelings for Quinn for ages instead of mere days.

  Maybe the time away from Quinn would give her some clarity. Help her figure things out. She knew she was sacrificing precious moments with him, but she’d definitely make sure they saw each other tonight. Her gut was telling her they needed to have a talk, to figure out what they were, what they could be. It was so strange that she felt like she’d known him forever. How could someone have such a swift and significant impact in her life? She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him.

  She stared at the phone, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, twitching, and so close to replying. As she had been since he sent the text hours ago. What was there to say?

  Do you care if you never see me again?

  I feel like meeting you has changed my life.

  I think I love you.

  Okay, talk to you then.

  She sighed and sent her phone to its lock screen. The night had begun with a drink at a piano bar in New York New York. They left the bar via a faux Brooklyn Bridge and wandered the Strip until they’d located a Fat Tuesday, home of alcoholic drinks that came in three-feet-long to-go cups. They’d each gotten one and taken increasingly tipsy selfies with an increasingly grumpy Ava, who insisted she wasn’t that short, dammit!

  Now the four of them stood on the street and stared up at the Eiffel Tower.

  “Wow, it looks so real.” Celia was in awe.

  “We can pretend we’re in Paris.” Ava sighed. “It’s the city of romance.” She turned to Fredi. “Why don’t you ever do a photo shoot there? I want to go to Paris.”

  “Ah, maybe because it costs a lot of money? How could I ever compete with the French couture anyway? And even if I did, who said I’d be taking you with me?”

  “To go to Paris, I would sit in coach and be your gofer. Heck, I know you so well, you wouldn’t even need to give me orders. I would just automatically bring you your five o’clock can of Diet Coke.”

  “What are you talking about, Fredi? You’re a wonderful designer,” Bonni said, wobbling a bit when she leaned back to look at the tower.

  Fredi grabbed her arm. “Whoa there.”

  “I’m okay.” Bonni nodded, but didn’t look up, just in case she lost her balance again.

  “Maybe one day somebody special will take you, Celia.” Ava gave her a nudge.

  “Ha! Dickhead was supposed to take me for our tenth anniversary, which would have been last year.” She held up her fingers and counted. “Yeah. I bet he took the skank.” Her bitter tone turned wistful. “I always wanted to try those French pastries—I forget what they’re called, but the round flat ones that come in pink and blue and yellow?”

  “Macarons?” Fredi answered.

  “Yes! Do you think they’d have them here somewhere?”


  “Let’s go in and see if we can find any,” Ava said. “A friend of mine was here a few years ago and she went on and on about the French patisserie here. If we can’t be in the city of love, then we can at least pretend we are.” Ava hooked her elbow through Celia’s and led her inside.

  “I never really thought of Vegas as a romantic place,” Fredi mused. “Despite all the hullaboo about quickie weddings.”

  Bonni nodded in agreement. “Me either, actually. It always seems to have a frenzied feel to it.” They trailed after Ava and Celia to the base of the tower.

  Fredi nodded thoughtfully. “Exactly! Like, if you don’t seize the moment, you’ll have missed your chance. Act now or, before you know it, you’re on a plane back home.”

  Bonni felt off balance again, as everything seemed to keep going for her, tilting her a little bit, and she looked down at the Fat Tuesday cup she was still carrying. Fredi’s words landed like a punch to the gut and she wondered suspiciously if Fredi was trying to sneakily give her advice.

  But now Fredi was wondering aloud about the marketability of wedding dresses that could be converted to cocktail dresses, for brides who got married on a whim or eloped.

  “—like, a detachable train, maybe. And then perhaps there’d be a way to convert the veil into a matching drawstring purse.”

  “Fredi! Bonni!” Ava yelled to them. “We have to get tickets.”

  Bonni began to move past her, reaching for her wallet.

  “No, you’re not. No way.” Ava held her ground. “You’ve spent too much already. Down-payment-on-a-house money, remember? This is on me.” A few minutes later she waved the tickets. “Okay, we’re good to go.”

  At the top, they were able to see the whole Strip.

  “This view is the same as our hotel, only from a different angle,” Fredi pointed out.

  “Yes, but it’s from the top of the Eiffel Tower.” Wistful longing echoed in Celia’s voice again.

  Bonni wondered if Quinn had ever been to Paris. Had he stood at the top of the real Eiffel Tower with a glamorous beauty on his arm? One who wore designer dresses effortlessly and didn’t assess every person she met for a potential threat. Fredi had wandered over to a bench and was now scribbling in her sketchbook, likely working on her elopement wedding dresses ideas. Celia was now playing around with the straw in her drink and taking slightly obscene selfies. Bonni really hoped she wasn’t sending them to Landon.

  Ava came up next to her. “You doing okay, Bonni?”

  “Yeah. It’s just been so great spending time with you guys, I’m sad that it’s almost over.” Bonni crossed her arms over her chest, nearly bonking her chin with the Fat Tuesday glass as she leaned against the railing.

  “This is all about creating memories. Everything we do, we’ll remember later on in life. So we need to enjoy each moment,” Ava said. “Besides, it’s not like we’ll never see each other again. Unless, of course, it’s not us you’re worried about saying goodbye to.”

  “This trip is all about memories,” Bonni said. First Quinn, and now Ava talking about memories. Memories are what carry us, and now she was realizing it even more. So, even if she never got to see Quinn again, even if their talk tonight didn’t go the way she hoped it would, she would always remember him. Ava shifted over and wrapped an arm around Bonni’s shoulders, and she leaned into her friend. “C’mon, bitches, the hunky employee said there’s a bakery in the lobby. Mama wants some macarons!” Celia’s exuberant cry broke the moment and Ava gave Bonni a final squeeze before they turned to face their friend.

  To keep herself from reaching for her phone again, Bonni sucked on the straw of the drink, but got nothing except empty cup. She desperately needed another one. Somehow, she had to put Quinn—and their inevitable conversation—out of her mind for now, and the only possible way to do that was booze. A lot of it. “I need to find another Fat Tuesdays,” Bonni announced, holding up the empty cup.

  “I think we’re in for a night, ladies.” Fredi nodded knowingly and hustled Bonni into the elevator. “Don’t forget, there is now a dual wager…a Bonni Pukes pool and a Celia Pukes pool, both still active and accepting wagers.”

  The Strip was humming with people and Bonni spied a Margaritaville.

  “Oh! It’s five o’clock somewhere! We have to go have a margarita and a cheeseburger in paradise. Fin’s Up!”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Fredi said, while Celia belted out the song lyrics in a decent alto.

  “That’s because you only listen to classical music and boy bands.” Bonni found four seats at the bar and ordered them each a margarita. “Jimmy Buffett style, kind sir,” she said to the bartender. Bonni planned to give her future self an epic hangover to drown out the pain of her likely-soon-to-be-broken heart.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Quinn’s room seemed empty. When Bonni was here yesterday, her presence had permeated every corner. Now, it was just a big, cold, empty hotel room. Gone was the color, the life. Her.

  He shook his head and finally admitted what he’d been holding back since Landon had broached the subject earlier that day.

  He was falling for her. It astounded him that, in the few short days since they’d met, when she wasn’t with him, the gaping hole in his life was painfully evident.

  Walking over to the mini-fridge, Quinn grabbed a beer and twisted off the cap, tossing it on the counter. He wondered again what she was doing. She still hadn’t texted him. The night ahead seemed endless.

  He’d just watch the hockey game, to distract himself. He had no burning desire to go out to any bars.

  He didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Bonni. If only she’d get here, so he could tell her so.

  Quinn dropped onto the desk chair and propped his feet up on the corner of the desk. Placing the beer on the floor, he grabbed the remote and started cruising through channels out of boredom. He finally changed the channel to the game.

  His phone buzzed against the desk and Quinn lunged for it, knocking it to the floor.

  “Shit.” Scooping it up, disappointment swept through him at the message on the screen. It was Landon. Not Bonni.

  Golden Child: U heard from her?

  Q: No. Watching the game.

  Golden Child: Come to the bar. Game’s playing on one of the screens and there’s plenty of fish in this sea.

  Quinn shook his head. Being around other people was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Q: Nope.

  Golden Child: Want company?

  Q: No, stay there. At least one of us should have a good time tonight.

  Golden Child: Bro, I’m sure she’ll text.

  Not feeling like getting into it with his brother, Quinn put his phone back on the desk. His mind kept drifting back to Bonni.

  He should text her, flat out ask her if she was still coming by, but what if she was ghosting him? As long as he didn’t ask, there was always the possibility that she was still coming. And he wasn’t entirely ready to have that conversation. Quinn couldn’t even figure out how he’d start it.

  Hi, Bonni, glad you’re not ghosting me. Now that you’re finally here, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m falling in love with you and I want to give up my livelihood so I can follow you home to Canada, but don’t worry about having to support me because I’m going to work for my brother in the family company and take the job I’ve resisted taking for the last fifteen years. Whaddya say?

  Fuck.

  As much as he wanted her to be with him, he would never try to pressure her to do something she didn’t want to do. That’s how a guy winds up with jail time and a restraining order, and rightly so.

  Quinn didn’t want to scare Bonni. He wanted to love her.

  Double fuck. Who the hell was he right now?

  Near the end of the second period, there was a roaring fight. He moved to the end of the bed and leaned closer to watch. On the desk, his phone buzzed again, but he ignored it, figuring it was probably Landon again, and shouted
at the television.

  “What are you thinking? Now they’ve got a power play! Damn idiots.”

  At the commercial, he took his empty bottle to the recyclable bin and grabbed another one, muttering about the stupidity of the hockey players and sitting back down in time for the face-off. He got caught up watching the game for another few minutes before remembering his phone.

  He sat upright when he saw it was a text from Bonni.

  “What the fuck?” Quinn turned his phone, trying to view the image she’d sent. It looked like an attempt at a selfie, but it was a disaster. He could see her friends on the fringe of the picture, the side of her head, her hair, and her mouth, wide open, laughing.

  Quinn smiled, as just seeing her face in the pic made his heart swell. He was glad she was having a good time, and happy that he’d obviously crossed her mind and she’d sent the photo. But he missed her. The whole point of this trip had been for her to spend time with her friends, and he would never try to come between them, but he wanted her here, with him. His heart tightened, and he wished that, at the very least, he was there having laughs right alongside them.

  Another buzz and another photo. Sideways again, but this time she was blowing a kiss into the camera. He chuckled.

  “She’s got to be drunk texting,” he told the empty room. Quinn typed back to her. Take care of yourself, darlin’. Have fun and don’t get into any trouble. Still hoping to see you tonight.

  He had the urge to include a heart and, if he hadn’t admitted that he was falling for her, that would’ve been a clear sign that he was a goner. She didn’t answer and, eventually, he put the phone down. He kept it close, though, just in case she messaged him again. All she had to do was beckon and he would come running.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Fredi and Celia were running offense, clearing the way, as Ava struggled behind them with Bonni.