“How are we doing tonight ladies?” asked the bouncer, checking our ID's. “Right this way.” He unlatched the red velvet rope and we rode up the escalator to the club entrance, looking down on the less fortunate people who, Kendra informed me, might be waiting there all night.
As good as I looked, I take no credit whatsoever for our being chosen from the crowd. Men who did not give a second look to the countless scantily clad women who walked by literally stopped mid-sentence when Kendra was in the area. Thigh high white boots and a black mini-dress certainly contributed, but she would have done just as well in a potato sack.
We hadn’t even made it across the room to the bar when two men practically got into a fist fight over who was going to buy us a drink.
“Boys, boys,” said Kendra, “we’ll be here all night, everybody will get their chance.” We settled into a plush green couch overlooking the dance floor and toasted each other with our first round of drinks. It’s not like I’ve never had a man buy me a drink before, but this was nuts.
“Let’s play a game,” shouted Kendra over the noise. “It’s called Who Would You Do? Heard of it?”
I laughed. “Oh yes, it’s a classic!”
“Okay good, you go first!"
I told her that my number one pick would always and forever be Nick Trask. Kendra did not know Nick, but I assured her of his do-ability. She argued that I had to pick someone from the Las Vegas branch. I really wanted to pick Chris, as he is cute in his own way, when his glasses slip down his nose while he leans over his desk, and the way he kind of stinks at air hockey. But I did not want her to get the wrong idea about us, so instead I chose Dan.
“Really?” asked Kendra. “I would have guessed Chris.”
When Kendra chose Phil Baxter, the forty-something draftsman from the 30th floor who looks like he’s done a lot of drugs in his lifetime and smells of cigarettes and whiskey, I choked on my drink. She couldn’t explain to me what it was about him, but ever since the day she denied his vacation request and he brazenly told her to go to Hell, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. Phil was a bad boy with a steady job - the perfect compromise for the rich girl with a warped version of slumming.
"You know," she said. "I'm single now. Maybe I should go for it and put the moves on ol' Phil."
"Phil's married," I said. "Plus, there's a little thing called sexual harassment in the workplace, remember?"
"Blah blah blah!" she shouted over the music, making a pouty face. "You'll never get anywhere in life with that attitude!"
Maybe she was right. Maybe I was too worried about what was right and what was wrong. Maybe I should just go for it once in a while. Suddenly my cell phone felt as if it was burning a hole in my purse. I took it out and stared at Nick's name in my list of Contacts while Kendra peered over my shoulder. I was just about to text him something witty, something life-changing, when I could have sworn that Justin Timberlake walked in the main entrance. By the time Kendra and I finished arguing over whether or not it was really him, we had drained our martinis and each done a shot of tequila.
My phone was long forgotten at the bottom of my purse as we headed onto the dance floor. By that time I was sufficiently drunk enough to consider dancing, and the music was irresistible. We pushed our way to the center, through the gyrating bodies, and found ourselves a few square feet to dance in. In a matter of seconds we had attracted a swarm of heinous looking men approaching from all sides, acting as if it were purely coincidence that we were in the path of their sweaty, pulsating, loins. One of them snuck up from behind and put his hand around my waist. Kendra gently pulled me toward her and we inched away towards safer territory.
A cute guy in a black button-up shirt caught my eye. He wasn’t dancing with anybody in particular, just moving his head to the music and surveying the crowd. I stared at him for a few seconds until he looked my way, then I took a sip of my beer and gave him a smile. I looked away as he moved closer. I didn’t want to appear too interested. He circled my area for about ten minutes as I alternated between flirty smiles and the cold shoulder. Finally he was right there in front of me when one of my favorite songs came on.
“Whooo!” I shouted holding my beer up in the air. Somebody’s flailing elbow caught me in the back and shoved me directly into him. He caught me on his chest and I remained there for the rest of the song, dancing in ways that would have made my grandmother roll over in her grave. I was pretty drunk and before I knew it I was making out with this guy whose name I didn’t know and, to be honest, had no interest in finding out.
“I’m going to get some more drinks!” I shouted when I finally came up for air.
“I’ll go with you!” he shouted back. Up close he looked a little bit like a Muppet. As he followed me to the bar I realized with a jolt of panic that Kendra wasn’t on the dance floor anymore. I looked over to the couch where we had been sitting and, to my horror, there she was, dancing on top of the cocktail table surrounded by men. I don’t know if she owned a training video or what, but she had some very Jiggly Kitty-like moves down cold.
“That’s my friend!” I shouted at black shirt Muppet guy. “I should probably get her down from there!” He followed me over to the table where I tapped Kendra on the bottom of her boot.
“Whooo!” she yelled when she saw me, and tried to pull me up onto the table with her.
“You’re going to fall!” I screamed back and motioned for her to come down. Reluctantly she slid off the table, and a few of the men gave me dirty looks for ruining their fun.
“Have some class,” I told them as we stumbled over to the bar for more beers. I seemed to have lost black shirt Muppet guy in the process, which was totally fine, so we danced our way back onto the dance floor alone. My feet were killing me but the strobe lights and the driving music kept me going for another hour.
“Let’s go to the ladies room!” I finally shouted into Kendra’s ear. We made our way to the restroom and I plopped down on a toilet seat, not caring about germs, only thinking that this was the most fun I’d ever had in my life. I pulled my phone out of my purse. A lipstick fell out as well and rolled under the stalls.
“Nooo!” I screeched, lunging for the lipstick and peeing a little bit on the floor. I cracked up laughing as Kendra kicked it back to me.
“What are you doing in there?” she asked. Her voice was scratchy.
“Texting somebody,” I said. And I was. At that moment, on the toilet, I wanted nothing more than to tell Nick how hot I thought he was. I needed to take some chances in my life. If Kendra didn't care that Phil Baxter was married, why should I let those things bother me?
u r SOG
u r ROT
u r HOG
I was having some trouble typing.
u r HOT
Finally I got the letters right and hit send.
“Oh my God, I sent it!” I kicked the stall door open so hard that it swung back and smashed into the one next to it. “Oops!”
“You’re insane!” Kendra slid down the wall laughing hysterically.
I washed my hands and took a paper towel from the bathroom attendant who I could tell, even in my drunken state, found us to be beyond obnoxious.
“I can’t believe I just sent that!” We pushed through the restroom door and fell onto the closest couch we could find. In less than one minute my phone began vibrating. Kendra grabbed it and held it up over her head out of my reach.
“No! Let go!” I jumped up and tried to grab it but instead tripped over her foot and fell down onto my knees laughing.
Kendra clamped a hand over her mouth. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to almost kill you.” She pulled me back onto the couch. “And careful of that dress, you don’t want to give anybody a free show.”
I pulled my dress down as far as I could, which wasn’t far.
“Look who’s talking Miss Dances on Tables. How the hell did you end up there anyway?”
“You were busy sucking face with that guy who looks like Kermit. I go
t bored.” She shrugged and tossed the phone onto my lap. I opened it up.
u r not so bad yourself
“He says I’m not so bad myself!” I shoved the phone into her face so she could see. She snatched it back out of my hand.
“Let me reply!” She started typing like crazy and holding the phone out of my reach again.
“What did you say? What did you say?”
“I asked him what he’s wearing.”
“You did not!” I threw my head against the back of the couch and slid down to the floor. “I just died of embarrassment.”
Within thirty seconds the phone vibrated again and I told Kendra to just read it to me as I couldn’t bear to look.
“He said ‘use your imagination’.”
“Give me that!” I took the phone back and starting typing. Kendra watched over my shoulder.
careful what u wish for big boy
“What the heck does that even mean?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” I said, laughing and falling over onto my side.
i’m wishing u weren’t so far away right now, wrote back Nick.
oh please, I wrote, u wouldn’t be able 2 handle me
“Are you crazy?” yelled Kendra, ripping the phone out of my hands. “You are not allowed to send anymore texts tonight!” She was just about to push the power button when one last message came through from Nick.
“What’s it say, what’s it say?” I asked, bouncing up and down on the couch.
Kendra shook her head back and forth in mock disgust.
“He said, u wanna bet?” She hit the power button and threw my phone into her purse. “That’s it! Nighty-night text messaging. No phone for you!”
“Aw, but Ken, you have no idea how hot this guy is!” I whined. “If he wants to make a bet I shouldn’t let him down!”
“No more!”
“Fine,” I said. “But you know what we do need more of?”
“What’s that?”
“Shots!”
We stumbled back toward the bar, laughing our asses off, and I remember no more of that night.
- 12 -
I am so sorry about last night. With butterflies in my stomach I punched the words into my phone and quickly hit Send.
It was 9:00 a.m. on Friday morning, and my hangover was the least of my reasons for feeling sick. I had woken up on the floor of my hotel room, not completely sure how I got there, but with the unpleasant realization that I needed to get ready for work. Thursday night drinking is cool when you're in college, but out here in the real world it is one of the worst ideas ever. I heaved myself off the floor and grabbed my phone out of my purse, which had somehow been slung on top of the microwave.
"Why the heck is my phone off?" I wondered out loud. A few seconds after turning it back on, a new text message came through. It was from Nick, from 12:18 a.m. the night before.
What say we find out? it read.
"What does that mean?" I mumbled to myself. Then, with increasing horror, I scrolled back through the prior night's conversation. "Oh my God...no....." I clamped a hand over my mouth and tried not to hyperventilate.
I kept reading the words over and over again - all my secret feelings for Nick laid out there in horrific text message grammar. I sent off the apology text as soon as my hands stopped shaking, and took the phone with me into the bathroom while I showered. But by the time I had finished getting ready I still hadn't received a reply from Nick. With my head hanging in shame, and a bag of McDonald's greasiest hangover cure on the passenger seat, I drove into work.
I stopped in the lobby to tell Charlene about what had just gone down, but was quickly interrupted by the arrival of Fartz the Fed Ex guy dropping packages all over the place.
"Ugh," said Charlene. "Just get upstairs, run while you can."
I hurried past Roberta, trying to avoid making bloodshot eye contact, and slipped into my office. I was just about to start checking emails when Chris popped into my doorway. He studied me curiously with one eyebrow raised.
“How you feeling?” he asked, taking a seat on the other side of my desk.
“I’m good, good. Really good,” I said. I spread my Egg McMuffin and Hash Brown out on the desk and took a bite of each, letting the warm greasy goodness work its magic. “Why do you ask?”
“You just look a little tired, like you were out late." He gave me a sympathetic smile while at the same time shaking his head in disapproval. "You feel like hitting the arcade today?"
“I’m sorry, Chris,” I said. “But I think I need to spend my lunch hour napping in the car today. Rain check?”
"No problem. You sure you’re okay?" He eyed my breakfast. "Need me to get you a Croissan'wich or something?”
“Very funny," I said. "But I’m fine, really. Kendra was just reliving her youth last night. Celebrating her divorce. And me being her new best friend, I guess I've just got to learn to keep up." I shrugged, because really, I didn't have any idea how it had all happened either. "Marisa will be back before you know it, and then this will be her problem anyway."
At the mention of Marisa returning from maternity leave, Chris gave a sad smile and nodded slowly, looking down at his hands.
“That is, you know, unless Kendra begs me to stay here,” I added quickly. I gave Chris what I hoped was a reassuring smile and self-consciously ran my fingers through my hair. I had been having such a good time in Las Vegas that the idea of actually leaving in a few months hadn’t occurred to me, nor had the thought that certain people might prefer me to stay. I mean, certain people had only known each other for a few weeks. We sat in somewhat awkward silence for a good ten seconds. Chris was the first to break it.
“People around the office are starting to talk,” he said, changing the subject. “They want to know what really happened with Kendra. She’s going to have to release some kind of official statement.”
Chris and Dan were the only two people I had told about Todd. Everybody else was living off of the rumors that started when he stopped showing up to work. For the most part they had figured out that the marriage was over, but jealous women liked to place the blame on Kendra. They assumed that she was the one who cheated, and even if they did allow the possibility that it was Todd, they figured that Kendra had driven him to it. They delighted in the thought that she was finally turning into the train wreck they always suspected her to be. I was starting to hate every single one of them.
"It's really nobody's business but her own. If she doesn't want to share her personal life with ev..." I trailed off when I saw an email pop into my Inbox - from Nick. My heart started pounding and I knew I couldn't possibly wait for Chris to leave before I read it, so I just tuned him out.
Hey you...no worries about last night. I must say I rather enjoyed it ;) I spent the night on the couch drinking and watching Hoarders...this woman had cat shit under her mattress, no joke. Anyway, Megan said I work too much...stay out too late with clients...blah blah blah...like I have a choice? Not like she isn't out three nights a week with her greasy lawyer friends. At least when I'm out I'm working. Sort of. Anyway, maybe it’s my hangover talking, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Come back home or I quit, I swear I’ll do it. - N
“ - never seen so many wizards gathered in one place before.”
“Huh?” I asked. I hadn’t heard a word Chris was yammering about. Something about wizards? Really, it’s things like that that explain why he doesn’t have a girlfriend.
“I knew you weren’t listening to me,” he said. “What are you reading?”
“Nothing, just an email from a friend.” My mind was racing. Nick couldn’t stop thinking about me! He was having problems with Megan. I needed to send a reply. Why wouldn’t Chris get the hell out of my office?
“Well, you enjoy that," said Chris. He gave me a defeated wave and sauntered back to his office. I felt momentarily guilty as I heard the air squish sadly out of the soft padding of his desk chair.
But this email from Nick, this emai
l was monumental. It was the first time I had heard directly from him that there was trouble with his marriage. Kara had mentioned, the last time we spoke, that Nick was having her transfer calls from his wife directly into voicemail, a sign that things may not be as peachy as they appeared. But I never felt that it was my place to bring the subject up.
Though now, not only did he tell me, but he combined it with how much he missed me, and how much he enjoyed our naughty little text-capades last night. Not to say that I would ever do anything with a married man, as I do have respect for the institution. But there is nothing in the bible about not flirting with a married man via email, especially when you are safely situated three thousand miles away and have been crushing on this married man for three years. I kept this in mind as I started my reply.
Hey - I'm glad you're not freaked out, but I would still like to reiterate the fact that I was, how should I put it....obliterated last night? Whatever I said, you know I'd never say those things normally, or try to make things weird with us. Not that I don't think you're hot, or "sog," or whatever I may have called you ;) Sorry to hear about Megan...I could've told you marrying a foreclosure attorney was a bad idea.
I felt slightly guilty taking his side with no questions asked. I mean, I had met the woman one time and here I was passing judgment about what kind of a person she was. If I really thought about it I was no better than the women in my office who were judging Kendra. So I didn’t think about it. Nick was my friend, and friends are supposed to support each other, right? Except that I took it one step further.
I know if I were your wife I would never make you sleep on the couch. In fact I may never let you leave the bed.
I swear to God that I only typed it to see what it looked like on the screen, like some kind of email version of Russian Roulette. I sat and stared at the words for a good thirty seconds. If I actually sent this email there would be no more hiding behind the excuse of being drunk. My words would be time-stamped clear as day -10:30 a.m. Friday morning - sent from my office email account to boot. I fully intended to delete it, I swear I did, when Kendra popped into my doorway and scared the life out of me. I quickly hit Send, and off it went.
What Stays in Vegas Page 8