by Sibel Hodge
I shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’
We grabbed our luggage—this time we had to drag our own—and headed outside. I caught up with Tia and Hacker to give them the bad news. They were leaning over a balcony in front of the huge expanse of water where the Bellagio’s famous fountains erupted.
‘Oooh, you missed the show,’ Tia said as we approached. ‘The fountain was in time to “Viva Las Vegas”. It was awesome.’
Hacker pulled his camera away from his face. ‘Are we all checked in?’
I explained what had happened.
‘Omigod!’ Tia’s eyes widened. ‘How awful.’
A group of teenage girls, off to one side, started pointing and giggling at us.
‘What’s wrong with them?’ I asked.
Tia shrugged. ‘I don’t know. They’ve been following us.’
‘Beats me,’ Hacker said.
We rejoined the others in a queue of people, waiting for a uniformed man who was calling taxis forward from a line parked up along the entrance.
One of the girls who’d been following Tia and Hacker appeared and said something to her friend, giggling again. She pulled out a notepad and pen from her bag and walked towards us.
‘Er… can I have your autograph, Snoop?’ she asked Hacker, thrusting the glittery notepad and pen towards him shyly.
Hacker’s mouth fell open. Tia did her famous laugh, which sounded like a cross between a hyena and a frog.
‘I’m not Snoop Dogg,’ Hacker said.
The girl batted her eyelashes at him. ‘Yes, you are! I love your latest record. It’s super cool. Can I be in one of your videos?’
‘Urgh!’ Suzy said. ‘All those stupid rap videos just have scantily clad women in them. They’re exploitative to our whole gender.’
The other girl blew a bubble with the gum in her mouth, and it snapped on her face, leaving a pink residue. ‘Yeah. So?’
‘You can have my autograph if you like,’ Dad said.
‘And who are you?’ The girl swung around to face him.
I wasn’t really into rap, but I vaguely remembered that years ago, Snoop Dogg had had a ten-year-old minirapper under his wing—called Lil Chow Dogg, or Lil Bow Wow, or something like that. ‘He’s Big Woof Dogg,’ I said, trying to suppress a howl of laughter.
‘Oh, yeah! I think I remember seeing you on MTV!’ She thrust her pad at Dad.
Mum chuckled.
Hacker sloped off to meet Brad at the front of the queue to get away from the girls, while Dad scrawled an elaborate autograph.
‘Can I be in your next video?’ the girl asked.
‘Absolutely.’ Dad grinned. Mum elbowed him.
‘Taxi’s here!’ Brad called to us over his shoulder, and we all piled in.
It should have been a five-minute drive, but the taxi driver—a Hispanic guy—took advantage of us being tourists and drove us round for miles before we finally ended up on a road just off the Strip outside a divey-looking motel. There was a sign outside with Hell of a Place written in red letters made to look like flames. The building was painted a garish red and had plastic yellow fake flames coming up from the ground either side of the reception office. A seven-foot statue of a red devil, complete with horns, a pitchfork, and a horrible flicky-out tongue, stood in the centre of the car park.
We trundled into reception, which was nothing like the plush Bellagio—more like the Bates Motel in Psycho or an S&M paradise. There was a red-velvet reception desk, red-velvet and gold lounge chairs, and a collection of various pitchforks in metal and wood hanging on the walls along with some fake black wings and red furry handcuffs. A smaller statue of a devil sat on the edge of the desk with creepy staring eyes. No one was around.
‘I bet they have bedbugs here and no turndown service.’ Suzy pulled a distasteful look at the décor.
I fought the urge to tell her to shut up because I was still trying to look on the bright side of things even though this place was not exactly my ideal choice of accommodation, either. We’d already wasted hours of our precious trip. I’d had a serious wardrobe malfunction, felt jet-lagged, and was hot and sweaty in my jeans and boots. What I wanted was a cool shower, an icy cocktail, and a hot Brad. And then a wedding-dress hunt.
Hacker pressed the old-fashioned black iron bell, which looked like a boob, on the desk, trying to get some attention. A woman aged about fifty appeared from a closed doorway behind the reception. She was dressed in a red-velvet onesie that had a black tail. In the Nevada heat, she must’ve been boiling in that outfit. On her head, she wore a red hair band with red, glittery horns attached to it. Thick red lipstick had caked into the wrinkles around her mouth, and her black eyeliner looked as if she’d applied it with a paintbrush. The rest of her face was covered in very thick, pale foundation.
‘Hi, how are you all doing today? I’m Marge.’ She smiled, and I worried her face might crack.
It’s pretty crap so far, if you must know!
‘Hi, I spoke to you on the phone about the four double rooms available?’ Brad said.
‘Oh, yeah.’ She consulted a ring binder on the desk, flicking a few pages of handwritten notes on lined paper before looking up at us and saying, ‘Well, you’re in luck.’
I thought that was debatable at that point.
‘Vegas is crazy busy this week. We’ve got all sorts of high-profile things going on. We’ve only got four rooms left.’
‘Great,’ Suzy muttered in a voice that meant it was anything but.
‘Fabulous!’ Tia said, nudging me happily.
‘Excellent.’ Mum was trying to be positive, too.
‘What do you think?’ Brad asked me.
I glanced around at the décor. A huge part of me was disappointed that things weren’t going according to plan, and I worried what the rooms were going to be like, especially since Brad and I had been planning on spending a lot of time in ours. But then I thought we couldn’t afford to hang around. What if these rooms went, too? We couldn’t exactly sleep on the pavement for seven nights. And we had to get some kind of accommodation sorted out sharpish then buy a new dress. We were also due to go to the Marriage License Bureau to pick up our wedding license this afternoon, so everything would be all ready to take to the Chapel of Love tomorrow. I didn’t think we could afford to waste time driving round all sorts of motels, inspecting each and every room.
‘This will have to do.’ I nodded.
‘Okeydokey, then.’ The receptionist recorded our details and handed out four sets of keys with devil horns on them. ‘Welcome to Hell.’ She cackled manically.
Chapter 3
‘Oh. My. God.’ I opened the door and stared at the very large bedroom in front of me. There was a round bed in the centre of the room with black satin sheets and red satin pillows. A tiny dressing table with no mirror stood next to a minibar fridge. There was a red-and-gold velvet two-seater sofa opposite the bed.
I stepped inside, and Brad set the suitcases down, staring with the morbid fascination usually reserved for rubbernecking at an accident. ‘Oh,’ was all he said.
I walked to the patio doors and pulled apart the red vertical blinds, looking out onto the tiny balcony with red plastic chairs and table and a lovely view of the car park. I went into the bathroom next. There was a large bath with a shower attachment above, a double sink, and lots of complimentary bottles of red-coloured shampoo and body wash.
I fought back the tears springing into my eyes. I mean, I knew it was only a motel room, but it was my wedding and honeymoon. It was supposed to be perfect. Brad and I had spent ages researching where we wanted to stay to make it a fabulous trip. And after everything we’d been through lately, we deserved perfection.
‘At least it’s clean,’ Brad said. ‘And spacious.’
‘Are you sure you want to marry me?’ I turned around and gazed up into his face. ‘You know I’m jinxed, right?’ Bad luck always seemed to follow me everywhere I went. ‘Maybe it’s a sign.’
He pulled me in close, wrappin
g his strong arms around me. I rested my head on his chest, where his heart beat a steady, familiar rhythm against my cheek. ‘Don’t start that again. It’s not a sign, and you’re not jinxed. It’s just an…’ He glanced around, trying to hide his own disappointment. ‘An unfortunate mistake. But don’t worry. Everything else will be wonderful.’ He kissed me on the lips.
My tongue sought his, and despite the jet lag and disappointment, something else thudded through my body. Lust. My mind melted away traces of controlled explosions detonating my wedding dress to smithereens. I slid my hands underneath the back of his shirt, my fingertips tracing the line of those taut, hard muscles as the kiss hardened—along with something else. His thumb rubbed lightly against the base of my neck, sending excited goosebumps darting in all directions over my skin. OK, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. As long as Brad and I were together, we’d make the most of it.
‘One day, we’ll be telling our kids about this and having a laugh over it,’ he said when he pulled back.
‘Yep. Absolutely. I just hope there aren’t any bedbugs like Suzy said.’ I stepped out of his arms and pulled back the red sheets, looking for creepy crawlies and other things of the icky variety. Satin sheets? Seriously? The amount of action we’d planned, they’d probably have us flying off them onto the floor. I peered at the red shag carpet next. Ew. It could be crawling with things, and we’d never even see them until it was too late. I fought the urge to gag as my imagination ran away with me, envisioning spiders crawling all over my skin and into my mouth when I was asleep. I don’t do spiders. I don’t do most bugs, actually. Apart from maybe butterflies, which are quite cute. ‘I bet there are filthy germs in there.’ I pointed to the carpet.
‘I love it when you talk dirty.’ He gave me a lopsided grin.
Despite my disappointment, I laughed.
‘Do you want to go shopping now or…?’ He trailed off, tilting his head, an eyebrow raised suggestively.
‘I like the “or” better.’ I peeled off my T-shirt, ready to start a pre-honeymoon test ride of the bed.
Brad stepped towards me, running a fingertip down the side of my neck and underneath the strap of my new sexy purple bra and sliding it between the delicate lace of the material and my C cups.
Mmmm. Hello! Nipple alert!
My eyes closed, my lips parted, and my head dropped back a little as I concentrated on the erotic sensations.
Bang! Bang! Bang! A knock sounded at the door. Great timing.
‘Go away!’ I yelled.
‘We should’ve put the “Do not disturb” sign on the door,’ Brad said with a groan.
‘We need to go dress shopping! Then we can all meet up with the others for some lunch.’ It was Mum. ‘Are you coming?’
‘Not yet, I’m not,’ I muttered.
‘What do you want to do?’ Brad asked. ‘Shopping, lunch, or…’ A dirty smile played on his lips. ‘Do you want to start with an appetiser?’
‘Ooops. Did I interrupt something?’ Mum yelled through the door.
I rolled my eyes. My stomach rumbled loudly. Actually, I was pretty hungry now she was mentioning food. Bad news always seemed to give me an appetite. And the hotel mix-up and wedding-dress incident were definitely bad.
‘You do need to get a dress. Why don’t you go with your mum and Tia and Suzy, and I’ll buy some other clothes and essentials for you while you’re doing that. Then we can grab some lunch before we go to the wedding bureau. We want to make sure that’s all sorted before tomorrow. I don’t want any more unwanted surprises,’ Brad said. ‘We’ve got plenty of time for this afterwards.’
‘True.’ I leaned in and took one of his lips in mine, sucking on it slowly.
He made a husky sound in his throat.
‘Dress—lunch—courthouse—sex it is, then,’ I said. ‘And maybe a cocktail thrown in, too.’
‘I’ve got a cocktail for you. It’s just got no tail on it.’ His eyes danced with mischief.
I laughed. ‘OK, we’re coming!’ I grabbed my bag, and we headed out the door.
Mum had a map in her hand and was busy consulting it while Dad perused a Vegas entertainment guide he’d found in the room. Tia was laughing at something Hacker was whispering in her ear.
‘Hey, guys,’ I said.
‘I know exactly where Rentagown is. I’ve got Google Maps on my phone. We have to hit the Strip right now and get you sorted!’ Tia said, practically bouncing up and down.
‘Where’s Suzy?’ I asked.
‘She said she was exhausted from the flight and wanted to have a nap,’ Mum said.
‘Well, I hope she wakes up in a better mood,’ I said. Although, having said that, I realised she only seemed to have one mood. For a psychiatrist, she had some serious issues of her own.
‘Hey, maybe she needs to get a boyfriend,’ Tia said.
‘Yes!’ I said and then asked Mum, ‘When was the last time she went out with anyone?’
She shrugged. ‘Years, probably.’
‘That’s it. She needs a holiday fling to loosen her up,’ I said. ‘Right. We need to make it a mission to find her a man.’
‘Good idea,’ Mum said. ‘There’s nothing like an orgasm to boost your mood.’
‘Ew, Mum!’ A horrible vision of Mum and Dad together popped into my head.
‘What? I think it’s good that your father and I have got a healthy sex life. Just because we’re getting older doesn’t mean we’re over the hill yet. I’m only fifty-six, you know.’ Mum may have been fifty-six, but she looked at least ten years younger, and they were both still young at heart, which had to be a good thing. I hoped I would still be as lively and attractive when I reached her age.
I held a hand up. ‘OK, OK, I get the message. I just don’t want to hear any more about it.’
Mum leaned over to Dad and whispered, not very discreetly, ‘I’ve still got a pair of chocolate knickers left. And some mango massage oil.’ She had stocked up on some gross chocolate knickers when she was doing surveillance duty at a lingerie shop called Lace during our last investigation. I dreaded to think what else she’d bought.
‘Right,’ I said, hoping to get off the subject of my parents’ sex life. ‘Where shall we meet up for lunch after shopping? What does everyone fancy to eat? American style? Chinese? Mexican? I don’t mind anything. As long as it’s not vegetables and fruit.’ I didn’t do healthy food. Brad and Hacker were health freaks and ate all sorts of weird stuff. Although, due to a recent case that had put me off my usual high doses of chocolate, I’d actually tried one of Brad’s birdseed-bar thingies, and it wasn’t that bad. Not that I’d ever admit it to him, though. He complained about my bad eating habits too much, anyway, and if he knew I actually liked some of his food, he’d be force-feeding me edamame beans or cauliflower every day.
‘This place says it caters to Americans and Europeans. There should be something for everyone.’ Dad pointed a finger at the guidebook page. ‘It’s near the Paris hotel.’
We bundled out of Hell and walked ten minutes up the road before we hit the Strip.
‘I’m sure that taxi driver ripped us off,’ Dad said. ‘The journey to Hell should’ve only taken about five minutes in the car, but he drove us around for ages.’
‘Yes, I think he did,’ Mum agreed.
On the way, we passed a sex shop, and I made a mental note to get something for Suzy later. If we couldn’t manage to find her a man for the holiday, then at least a battery-operated version might have the same effect.
We split up when we got to the Strip. Dad, Brad, and Hacker headed towards the Miracle Mile shops inside Planet Hollywood while Mum, Tia, and I went to Rentagown. We stepped into dress wonderland. Bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses took up three spaces of racks along the walls. Eveningwear and ball gowns were displayed in the centre of the shop, and tuxedos were along another wall. Plus, they had accessories galore—shoes, veils, jewellery, tiaras, and hairpieces.
A very organised sales assistant called Judy approached u
s, and I explained my predicament.
‘Well, I’ve never heard of a wedding dress being blown up before.’ She was very professional. She didn’t even laugh at the story. ‘Don’t worry at all. We pride ourselves on being able to dress a bride top-to-toe within one hour.’ She gave me a confident smile. ‘Tell me more about the style you’re after. Short, long, chic, detailed?’
‘Definitely nothing flouncy and big. I want something chic and stylish but simple.’
She nodded knowingly and led us to some racks. Within minutes, I’d found the most gorgeous dress, and I took it into a large dressing room. There were private cubicles and large leather sofas in the centre of the room. Mum and Tia sat down, and Judy hovered outside the cubicle while I slipped on the dress. I stared in the mirror, examining myself carefully, smoothing my hands over the material. It was simple and understated but stunning—ivory lace over silk with two-inch-wide lace straps that drew down into a V at the front, making the most of my assets. There was a gold satin sash, underneath said assets, that tied together in a single gold rose. It had a split up one side to mid-thigh level, hugging my curves to perfection like a second skin, and I couldn’t wait to wear it on my big day.
‘What do you think?’ I walked out of the changing room.
‘Oh, it’s stunning.’ Mum’s eyes teared up.
‘It’s super cool.’ Tia grinned.
Judy walked around me, examining the fit closely. ‘It looks like it was made for you. We wouldn’t even need to make any alterations.’ She stood back. ‘It’s perfect.’
I grinned from ear to ear. Thank God for that. Dress crisis now averted. ‘I just need to find some shoes to go with it now.’
~~~~
We arrived at the diner an hour later as planned. We spotted the others already in a booth overlooking the Strip. Brad had a pile of shopping bags at his feet.
‘Did you get a dress?’ he asked.
‘Yep.’ I beamed back. ‘It’s gorgeous.’
He kissed my lips. ‘Great. I’ve got you some clothes and underwear and toiletries.’