What Stays in Vegas

by Labonte, Beth

  "Alright, well, there is a tiny bit more to it. I was getting ready to go home on Friday, when Marvin stopped by my office," said Nick. Marvin was Marvin Frackman, Nick's boss. "He was all fired up about this guy Jimmy Cannon who's in town. He owns some grocery stores, but he's also started opening up strip clubs that compete with Dorfman's. Loose Cannons they're called, ever heard of it?"

  I shook my head.

  "Anyway, Marvin found out where Jimmy was having dinner, and he wanted me to tagalong to try to drum up some business." Nick stood up and helped himself to a beer from my fridge, as if he'd lived here for months. "I tried to tell him that I couldn't go, that Meg would kill me if I got home late one more time, but he wouldn't take no for an answer."

  "And so you went?" I asked.

  "If I help get a new client, my status in this company will skyrocket. I'd be kind of like...like you." He smiled as he motioned to my rock star-like display of alcohol.

  "Right," I said. "Kendra just went a little overboard. Trust me, my status hasn't gone anywhere." I settled back into the pillows, relaxing a bit. "But I thought you didn't want to become like those guys in upper management?"

  "Hey, money talks." Nick shrugged. "Although, more status means more stress. And more fights with the wife."

  "Speaking of whom," I looked expectantly at Nick, "where is the wife?"

  "Well, Marv and I ended up stalking Jimmy all over Boston until eleven o'clock. By the time I got home it was after midnight and Megan had already packed her bags and went to stay with her parents. I didn’t know what to do. She wouldn’t take any of my calls, then you wouldn’t take any of my calls. I just needed to see you.” He paused and sat down on the couch facing me. For the second time in one day I felt as if a guy were about to confess his love.

  "I needed to find out if maybe I made a mistake," he said.

  "What, what, kind of mistake?" I immediately tensed up again.

  "I'm wondering if maybe I married the wrong girl." He stared into my eyes as he spoke those words, and then he picked up my hand and held it against his cheek. After all these years, everything I'd ever dreamed about was actually happening. Yet here I was, ready to smother Nick with a pillow before I'd let it continue. I jumped up and walked over to the window, anything to get out of his line of vision.

  “But you did marry Megan. You love Megan. And this," I motioned back and forth to the two of us, "is not doing anything to help." I suddenly got a very clear picture of Megan in my head. She had just found out where her husband had disappeared to and was at this very minute boarding a plane to Vegas in order to shoot me in the head. It was time to panic.

  “Shit, Nick, you need to get out of here!” I grabbed him by the hands and tried to pull him up from the couch, but he weighed about a billion pounds and I couldn’t move him. He just kept looking at me like I was nuts.

  “I can’t go back now,” he said. “It’s too late.”

  “Planes fly all night long! There’s probably ten of them just sitting there on the runway, they'd love to have you!"

  “Don’t be silly, Tessa. Just let me stay the night. Megan couldn’t care less, she’s the one who left me, remember?” I was still holding onto his hands and he pulled me forward so I was about three inches from his face.

  “What are you doing?” I asked in horror.

  “What do you think?” He stood up and put his arms around my waist. “I've been going crazy thinking about all those texts, haven't you?”

  He leaned in and kissed me, and suddenly any thoughts I had of Megan coming to murder me just faded into the background. As did, and I'm ashamed to admit it, any thoughts I was having about Chris. Because Nick, my Nick, was kissing me at last. Okay so we hadn't just spent the day bonding over a game of Monopoly, and maybe Nick hadn't come to my rescue when I'd needed him most. But for that moment, all I knew was that I was making out with the love of my life. The love of my life, who also happened to be my closest friend in the world. Well, at least until I had met...until I had met....what the heck was his name? Chris. Yes, Chris. I tried to focus, really I did. But this was Nick for Christ sake. My mind had left the rest of my body to its own devices several minutes ago. Nick sat back down on the couch and pulled me onto his lap, when suddenly it hit me.

  “You don't just taste like beer," I said, pulling away.

  "I had a few cocktails on the plane," said Nick. He shrugged and pulled me back towards him.

  “Oh God, no!" My stomach turned at the thought of hard liquor. I scrambled off of his lap and ran for the bathroom.

  “Good to see you too!” yelled Nick as I slammed the door and threw up for the third time in one day.

  - 18 -

  On Monday morning Kendra was in full boss mode. I had a feeling that she was still angry with me after our argument in the museum because she had a whole list of tasks prepared, none of which involved my being around the office. It was just as well. I was a little concerned that Nick might show up at the office with a bouquet of roses or something, and I was not exactly planning to tell Chris about my new roommate.

  Nick had slept on the couch and I had used my hangover as an excuse to avoid any further make-out sessions. Once I was in bed and able to think clearly again, that's when the guilt really took over, and it was coming at me from all sides. Chris sent me a few texts about how much fun he'd had with me that day, and I replied from underneath the blankets as if I needed to hide what I was doing from Nick. I told Chris that I felt the same way. And it was true. Everything I said to him was true, with the one minor omission that I had just made out with another guy who, by the way, was also sleeping in my living room.

  Who on Earth was I turning into? This needed to stop. I just needed to figure out the right way to tell Nick that my flirting had been a mistake. Once I got that out of the way, and Nick went home to Megan, I could finally be with Chris guilt-free. I mean, how long could Nick possibly stay in Vegas anyway? Flamhauser-Geist isn't exactly generous with their vacation time.

  I grabbed Kendra's list of tasks and headed outside to my BMW. I still gasp a little bit every time I get into the car, and then I usually take a few minutes to admire my tanned self in the rear view mirror. Yes, I know, it’s materialistic and superficial, but for the time being this life and all its ridiculous accessories are mine, and I have a right to enjoy them. I turned up the radio and leaned my head back, soaking up the sun before starting the engine. If you’re mad at me, Kendra, you could’ve come up with a much worse punishment than sending me out of the office.

  I peeled out of the parking lot and headed toward my first stop which was to pickup Kendra’s dry cleaning. You can’t get much more stereotypically administrative assistant than picking up dry cleaning. I didn't really mind though because the dry cleaner was right next door to my favorite coffee shop, and I stopped in for a cappuccino. I took a seat on the patio rather than returning to my car. It was only 9:00 a.m. and Kendra's list wasn't all that long anyway.

  As I sipped my coffee, my thoughts drifted to Kara who I had only spoken to twice on the phone since coming to Vegas. I felt a pang of guilt as I thought of all the time I had been spending with Kendra. I took out my cell phone to give her a call, and also give her a reason to leave the office for a few minutes. She would probably go out on the back steps that overlooked the parking lot where her car was parked between two empty spaces - one for my car, and one for Nick’s. She was probably lonely. Neither one of us has many other girlfriends. Suddenly I couldn’t dial the numbers fast enough. It rang six times before the familiar voice picked up.

  “Good morning, Flamhauser-Geist, this is Kara."

  “Okay, first of all,” I said, “I am a horrible, horrible friend because I just realized how few times I’ve talked to you since I came out here. So feel free to trash my cubicle.”

  “Already trashed it last night,” she said. “You’re not a horrible friend though, you’re just busy. I actually stopped calling you since that time your psycho boss grabbed the phone and starte
d screaming Love Shack at me, remember?”

  I laughed. Kendra and I had been at a karaoke bar when she got her paws on my cell. “Sorry about that, she’s got a few issues to work out.”

  “I would start with singing lessons,” said Kara. “Then maybe move on to rehab. Hey let me go outside before I get busted for taking personal calls at my desk. Hang on.” I mentally followed her through the office, past each desk, and out the back door. Just as my imaginary Kara arrived on the back steps, the real one came back on the line.

  “Okay, I’m out. So what’s up?”

  “Well, for starters, Nick’s not in today is he?” I figured if she had known he was coming to Vegas she would have at least put in a courtesy call to fill me in. At least I hoped she would have.

  “Uh, no, he’s not. How’d you know that?”

  “Because he’s asleep in my hotel room.” There was silence on the other end. Then I heard what sounded like muffled swear words. “Are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here," said Kara. "Shit, Tessa, I’m sorry. I would've told you sooner, but I never thought he’d do anything this drastic.”

  “Told me what? What did he say? I need to know, Kara. I did something I shouldn't have and now things are getting out of hand."

  “Um, he kind of told me on Friday that he thinks he’s in love with you,” said Kara.

  “What?!”

  “He said he never realized it while you were here, but now that you’re away he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  “Oh God, what have I done?” I drummed my fingers on the table.

  “He also said something about how he never thought you had feelings for him until a couple of weeks ago? Something to do with text messages. I don’t know Tessa, we were out at a bar and it was loud and stuff. I couldn't really get all the details.

  "That's okay," I said. "I know what he's referring - "

  I suddenly stopped tapping my fingers. A pigeon on the opposite end of my table looked up at me expectantly, mid-peck. "Wait, when were you out at a bar with Nick?"

  "Friday," she said. "After work."

  "This Friday?"

  "Yes, this Friday, as in three days ago. Megan was at her sister's bachelorette party and he didn't want to go home."

  He lied to me.

  “So he never went out with Marvin to network with some guy from Loose Cannons?” I asked. I was slowly getting a migraine.

  “No way,” she said. “He was with me all night. Well, not all night, but you know what I mean. Besides, we got the Loose Cannons account weeks ago. I guess Marvin and Tom stalked the guy all over Boston, which is a little creepy if you ask me.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Megan was probably at home worried sick. Meanwhile, Nick is in Las Vegas borrowing stories from other people’s lives in order to manipulate his best friend. The same best friend he spent the last three years taking for granted until she sent him a few dirty texts. I took three Advil out of my purse and swallowed them with my coffee.

  “I thought you had a crush on him?” asked Kara. “Why are you so upset about all this anyway?”

  "I do, I mean, I did," I said. "It's just that I met somebody else. Somebody who probably wouldn’t have married a girl from a cruise ship after he'd met me."

  "Is it serious?" asked Kara.

  "It could be." I smiled to myself. "But I've made such a mess. Why couldn't I leave things alone with Nick? Things happen for a reason, don't they? I should've known when he married Megan that him and I just weren't meant to be."

  "True," said Kara. "But if things happen for a reason, then so did this. Maybe it happened this way so you'd finally be able to let him go."

  The pigeon cocked its head at me, waiting for my reply. Kara had a point.

  "You are so wise for a receptionist," I said. "So what do you think I should do?"

  "You've got to send him back home. You've got to tell him that it's too late."

  I sighed as I pictured all my artwork lined up along Nick’s windowsill. He had been an awesome friend to me all these years, and it was highly unlikely that things could go back to normal between us. I imagined passing him in the hall and pretending to check my watch in order to avoid eye contact. But it was me who had started this whole mess. Me and whoever invented text messaging, the stupid idiot. I needed to accept the consequences.

  Besides, when I thought of all the lies Nick had told me and the kind of man he was turning out to be, my idealistic opinion of him began to shift. Maybe he wasn't the awesomest friend on the planet after all. Maybe he was a jerk.

  I gulped down the last of my coffee and said goodbye to Kara. I promised to let her know as soon as I had shipped Nick back to Massachusetts.

  I pulled into the next place on Kendra's list and looked up at the sign. Mocha Fresco it said in large brown letters, except in place of the "o" in "Fresco" there was a coffee cup with a paintbrush poised above it. Kendra hadn't really given me any instructions on what to do at this place, just that I should give her name to the girl at the counter. I went inside and waited by the register for somebody to help me. It seemed to be some kind of art gallery/coffee shop combo. I liked it.

  A girl with a neon pink pixie cut finally appeared out of a back room and smiled cheerfully at me. "Can I help you?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said. "Kendra Stoltz asked me to stop by here. She didn't really tell me why though, so I was kind of hoping you knew?"

  "Ah," said the girl. "You must be Tessa?"

  “Uh, yeah, that’s me.” Why would she know my name?

  "Just a sec." She winked at me before ducking below the counter. I heard her shuffling through some papers.

  “My name’s Holly,” she said when she finally popped back up. “If you’ll just sign this form I can give you a little tour of the place. You’re not actually scheduled until Wednesday, but I can show you around.”

  “Scheduled for what?” I asked. “I thought I was just supposed to pick up something for my boss?”

  “Well, if your boss is Kendra Stoltz, she called here this weekend and rented out studio space in your name. Twice a week, starting this Wednesday and continuing for an 'undetermined amount of time.' She asked that it be stocked with some strange supplies.” She pulled out another paper and began reading from it “Paper towel rolls, coffee filters, stirrers, bottle caps, and, I quote, ‘any other materials that would normally be thrown in the garbage.’” She glanced up at me. “Are you some kind of trash collector?”

  “I guess you could call me that," I laughed.

  Holly shrugged. "Hey, we get all kinds here. There's a guy who comes in on Mondays with a trash bag full of dog hair. Come on, I'll give you a tour."

  Studio space! All for me! I couldn’t believe it. I followed Holly around the studio, smiling at the other people who were there, peacefully working on different projects. The main part of the shop was set up with tables for workshops, and off to the side was the coffee bar, some comfortable looking couches, and a fireplace. Artwork for sale by local artists lined the walls. Through a door in the back were the three private studios, each with their own skylights, and shelves stocked with everything I could possibly need.

  “You look excited,” said Holly. “You've got a very generous boss.”

  “You have no idea!" I said.

  Here I was, thinking that Kendra was mad at me, when she had really been doing something like this. I practically skipped through the parking lot to get to my car. Wednesday was two whole days away and I was already itching to get my hands on some materials besides paperclips and pushpins. I would finally be an artist again, without anybody from HR ratting me out for stealing office supplies.

  - 19 -

  I called Nick as soon as I got in the car. Between my conversation with Kara and the excitement of finding out I had my own studio, I was pretty fired up and ready to tell him exactly what I thought about everything he had done.

  "Hey you," answered Nick, on the fourth ring.

  Oh God, I'm now a "you.
" This is even worse than I thought.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. The sound of buildings and cars being blown up echoed in the background.

  “Pay-per-view. I hope you don’t mind. You’re not paying for this stuff anyway, right?”

  “Uh, yeah," I said. "Just keep it clean.” Thoughts of Margaret Sherman reviewing an itemized list of dirty pay-per-view movies gave me the cold sweats. “Look, I’ll meet you in the restaurant downstairs in fifteen minutes, ok? We need to talk.” I hung up without waiting for a response and turned onto Las Vegas Boulevard.

  I had gotten used to driving up and down The Strip. By now it was an every day occurrence to pull up alongside beautiful people in beautiful cars - and after a month of hanging out with Kendra, I had almost become a beautiful person myself. I stopped at a traffic light outside The Mirage and eyed my oversized sunglasses and diamond studded hoop earrings in the mirror - fake diamonds, of course, as I am still existing on an admin’s salary.

  But if you didn’t know any better, you might think that I’ve lived here all my life. Two cute guys in a Mercedes tooted their horn as they passed me and turned into the hotel. Tourists. Or maybe members of a soon-to-be bachelor party. Whatever they were here for, they had come to escape the real world. And here I am, fortunate enough for my real world to have ended up in Las Vegas.

  Over the past few days I've actually been toying with the idea of staying in Vegas permanently. I mean sure, I would have the same lousy secretarial job no matter where I moved. But at least here there is sunshine year round, and bright lights, and excitement. There's a really great guy named Chris. What's waiting for me back home? My family, yes. But there are planes and cell phones and the Internet, so staying connected isn't really an issue these days. Besides, it’s my life we’re talking about, and my family would want me to be happy, right? And sure, I might miss the changing of the seasons and all the hoopla over pumpkins and foliage and chirping birds. But in all honesty, the birds do start to get on your nerves after a while.