by Willow, Jo
Before we even checked in, the first order of business was the marriage license for the next day. We were assured it was a brief and painless experience as off we sped to the county clerk’s office.
Everyone elected to stay in the limos and wait, but I could tell that it was making Anton and Melody nervous to have to face this part alone. Fair enough. I leaned into Ayla and she leaned back.
“Let’s go in with them. I think it’ll help with their nerves.”
She nodded sweetly, grabbed her purse, and we followed them inside.
The wait was roughly ten minutes and then we approached the clerk. Anton and Melody were deep in conversation while the clerk smiled expectantly. I decided to take the initiative.
“We’re here for a marriage license.”
She smiled her world weary smile, like she hadn’t heard that request at least a hundred times in the last two days.
“Of course. Have either one of you been married before?”
I looked at Ayla who was shaking her head “no”. I had no idea what our marital status had to do with anything, but I shrugged and replied, “No”.
“Very well. Fill this out please. The charge is fifty dollars cash.”
Melody and Anton were still having a conversation, so I paid the lady and took the document. When I stepped aside, Mel’ and Anton stepped up and repeated what I’d just done. I began tugging on Anton’s sleeve, while he kept trying to shrug me off while he talked to the clerk. Ayla tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to face her.
“Let’s fill it out.”
“What?!”
“We don’t have to use it, but let’s fill it out. For fun. We’ll set the example for those two. Look at them Pierce. They’re sweating bullets. It’s just a piece of paper if we don’t use it. I think it’ll make them feel better if they’re not alone in this.”
There was logic in her reasoning and I followed her to an empty space on the counter where we began filling in the blanks. In short order, Anton was standing next to me, Melody on his other side. They definitely seemed more at ease. I signed on the line and passed it to Ayla who did likewise. She kissed me sweetly and we handed the application to the clerk. Fifteen minutes later, both Anton and I walked out with our girls, marriage licenses tucked neatly into our pockets. Time to check into our rooms.
Am I a snob? For the most part, yes. I’ll admit that. I’m willing to wager though that it’s not in the way that you’re assuming. I don’t care about how much money a person has, that’s irrelevant to me and always has been. As I’ve said before, we weren’t raised with money. The hobbies I have and the things I enjoy aren’t contingent upon large quantities of money. I can enjoy a hot dog from a good street vendor as much as I can enjoy a lobster at a reputable seafood restaurant. I’d take my mother’s chocolate cake over any dessert cart in any restaurant anywhere. I can get into popcorn at a drive-in as much or more than a movie premier and a red carpet walk. Everything hangs on who I’m enjoying it with.
My “snobbery” revolves around people. If you have no manners or have total disregard for anyone around you, I will snub you. If you’re cruel to children, elderly people or animals, I will unleash my inner snob and grind you into dust. Make no mistake, my capabilities in that arena are endless and at my fingertips. Vegas brings it to the surface.
People, in general, turn into idiots when they walk into a room full of slot machines. Add free alcohol and they revert to their evolutionary base. The sounds of ringing bells and the stench of cigarette smoke give me headaches and people walking around in flip flops and mismatched clothing makes my teeth itch. Yet in Vegas, it’s accepted as a given and encouraged. It boggles my mind.
Yet here we were.
We entered the Bellagio and although better on many levels, I still felt out of place. The rest of our ensemble made their way to the check-in desk, while I hung back. Ayla was between Deacon and Melody. I stood alone like a bison on a marble floored prairie, trying to get my bearings.
“Excuse me sir, I have a complaint.”
That got my attention. A strange woman with purple hair teased to an extraordinary height, was tugging on my coat sleeve. In her other hand was the obligatory pink drink with a tiny straw.
“Pardon me?”
She rolled her eyes as if I was the daft party present.
“A complaint. I have a complaint.”
I escaped her grasp and straightened my tie.
“Don’t we all”, I said as I rapidly made my way to the group I should never have strayed from. I could feel her eyes follow me, but I never spared her another glance. She obviously mistook me for a part of this circus.
We moved en masse towards the elevators and Melody inched closer once we got on the elevator.
“I think she thought that you were a manager.”
I looked down at her and my expression must have given something away because she continued.
“Oh loosen up Pierce! Try having a good time for once. You’re standing there in a three piece suit looking like you’re negotiating a manure field. You’re in Vegas Teddy Bear. Lighten up.”
“I’m here for a wedding Jaws, not a good time.”
Dorothy started laughing at that and I noticed that Deacon was doing his best not to join her. Ayla began to shake her head while looking at the floor. I took her hand and smiled. The door opened but Melody wasn’t finished with me.
“What? You don’t think that a Vegas wedding can be fun?”
“I’m sure a Vegas wedding can be fun. I’m also sure that it should be a serious undertaking and therefore it should embrace a certain decorum. The taking of vows should be a solemn occasion Jaws. It should not be done to a ‘theme’ or taken lightly. For myself, I plan to take those vows only once in my lifetime. I want to be taken seriously.”
We’d reached the door to the suite that she would share with my brother, when she turned to me before slipping the key card into the slot.
“Teddy, you could be in a mankini taking the vow in front of Flipper dressed as the Pope and you’d be taken seriously. No worries there big guy.”
She winked and then she was gone.
We occupied the suite next to theirs, while Deacon and Dorothy were across the hall. Sean, Austin, and Chase were next to Deacon and Dor’, in a three bedroom suite that was the largest one of all. We occupied every room on the floor, save one.
Once we were settled, the phone calls started. The plans were in place, all that had to be assembled were the players. No one took into account the fatigue factor. We’d worked that day and with the flight, it seemed that Deacon, Anton, and myself were getting our asses handed to us. Still, we played along because we were Sloans and Sloans never threw in the towel.
We met out front and where two limos were waiting. Austin’s friend was hosting our stag parties at his club and off we went to someplace called the “Blue Moon Club”. It sounded very old Vegas to me and for the first time, I thought I might actually be able to have a good time. I invested in those feelings when I noticed that we were leaving the strip and heading to an older, more established part of town. This was more like it.
The club was large, dimly lit, and packed. It quickly became apparent that it was “The” place to go for bachelor and bachelorette parties.
We were led to an area known as the “VIP” section and seated at a large round table. There were four other tables in our section, but ours had booth seating and all of the other tables were visible from ours. A live band was playing and they were quite good, albeit a bit loud. I’d promised Ayla that I’d loosen up and behave and I had that promise repeating much like a mantra in my head.
Our drink orders were taken by a pretty waitress in a sapphire blue corset wearing black fishnet stockings. I could feel Ayla’s eyes burning holes into the side of my head as she waited for me to peruse the young woman’s assets, but I kept my eyes glued to hers as I gave her my drink order. Score one for me. I knew I’d done well when I felt my fiance’s hand on my thigh.
So far so good.
Anton was a putz. He winked and openly flirted, while the waitress kept shifting her glance to Melody who was staring daggers at her. Deacon looked at me and I mouthed, “five hundred dollars” in a reminder of the wager still on the table. Yes we were in Vegas, but Anton wasn’t at the altar yet and I still had a chance to win this thing. Deacon shook his head at me and I smiled.
Seated at a table near ours was a group of women having their own party. The bride-to-be was wearing a sash that read, “Future Mrs. Reyes”, and everyone else was wearing embarrassingly short dresses with dangerously high heels. They were several drinks ahead of us, but I had a feeling that we’d be gaining fast.
Our waitress deposited a tray full of drinks and three bowls of cashews in front of us. We began to munch and drink and after several rounds, our conversation grew louder. As did the conversation at the all female table.
While the men at our table were better versed at holding our alcohol, Ayla and Melody were not. Dorothy was sipping virgin daiquiri’s and seemed more than content to watch and laugh. I admired her and wished I’d taken her approach. Instead, I watched Deacon get bolder by the minute and Melody get looser. Ayla grew quiet and melted into my side. No complaints from me on that one.
The band took a break and we watched as the waitress delivered a tray of rather dubious looking shots to the ladies. Our table grew quiet as we watched the antics unfold.
The ladies placed the shots in front of them, then put their hands behind their backs. As a group, they all bent their heads, took the shot glasses in their mouths, and tipped back quickly, swallowing the liquid in one gulp. They returned the glasses to the table and high-fived one another.
We were all stunned speechless. I felt Ayla sit up straighter, then she rolled her eyes. Melody turned to her in question, and Ayla explained.
“It’s called a blow job.”
Melody’s eyes lit up.
“Oh I want one of those!”
Anton casually said, “So do I”.
Melody must have kicked him under the table, because he jumped and shot a concentrated look in her direction. I looked at Deacon and once again mouthed, “Five hundred dollars”.
The next thing I knew, another round was being delivered to our table, but two of the drinks were different. Placed before Melody and Ayla were shots that looked like the ones the bachelorettes had consumed. I looked over and the bride-to-be winked. Great. Now strangers were buying us drinks. Why was I envisioning scenes from that old classic, “The Lost Weekend”?
Melody squealed and Ayla moved forward as if she’d done this a hundred times. That made me nervous, but I was powerless to turn away. She turned to Melody and said, “On the count of three, tip and guzzle. Got it?”
Melody nodded and turned back to her shot, her hands behind her back.
“One...two...three!”
Both of their heads went down, two shot glasses came up and the liquor was consumed. The glasses were returned to the table and Melody whooped as if she’d won Olympic Gold. Anton looked reasonably impressed, which just goes to show how easily that man is to entertain.
I looked down at Ayla who was once again pressed into my side.
“You didn’t have to drink it you know.”
“Yes I did. It’s her bachelorette party Pierce. It’s what you do.”
I did not see her logic, but I was certain it was there somewhere so I held my tongue. Just like I’d held my tongue when Anton had insisted that we take Deacon to a strip club for his bachelor party. Some things are traditions that escape me, but are obviously traditions all the same. Things like strip clubs and blow jobs.
We were done an hour later. At least I was and I could tell by the way that Dorothy was fading fast that she and Deacon were done too. Austin and Sean decided to stick around for a little while and I think Anton would have joined them had it not been for Melody. He was concerned with her giggling and decided to join the rest of us in getting our dates back to the room safely.
Once we were snuggled up and ready for sleep, I started to think about our day. In particular, the flight. I’d had thoughts that tonight might be “the night” for Ayla and me, but with all the drinking, that was once again a pipe dream. I curled around her and pulled her tightly to my body.
“This is my favorite part.”
I thought she was drifting off, so her words went through me in the darkness.
“Favorite part of what?”
“Of us. When it’s just you and me and we’re spooned together like this. It’s my favorite part.”
“I’m hoping that a better favorite part happens soon Ayla.”
She giggled, not missing my reference.
“We’re too drunk Pierce.”
I knew that, but I also knew it would be possible if we tried hard enough. My hold up was the memory. I wanted it to be memorable for both of us.
“You want me, don’t you Ayla?”
She turned in my arms and put her mouth to my neck. A shiver ran through me and I gripped her hips.
“I always want you. Every time you look at me, I want you.”
I claimed her lips and she gave back tenfold.
This preceded the make-out session to end all make-out sessions. Never in my life had I been naked with a woman and done nothing but explore kissing. An hour later, I held her close to me, stroking her hair while her breathing deepened and I whispered softly, “I think THIS is my favorite part”. She was changing me in increments and I was helpless to it. I didn’t know if I couldn’t or wouldn’t fight it, but the fight wasn’t there.
Chapter Ten: The Wedding. Part One.
Weddings are strange things. They take on a life of their own, even spur of the moment weddings. I could only imagine how giving birth to a large church wedding must feel. This was a, “Hurry up and get them married before Anton fucks up or Melody injures herself again” affair. What would it be like to watch a wedding take shape after months of stressful planning?
I looked at my fiance who was focused on her hair and makeup to the exclusion of everything else. She was a woman with a purpose. When I asked her why she was going to such great lengths, she simply replied, “It’s Melody’s wedding. I have to get ready and then I have to get HER ready.” She said this as if explaining it to a small child that had been raised in the wilderness with no working knowledge of English. I felt like that child because her explanation gave me nothing. How long would it take to get ready for a Vegas wedding? Especially this one. Anton wanted to get married by an Elvis impersonator. In a chapel. I had my doubts, but never doubt the possibilities in Vegas folks.
I misjudged his seriousness when I asked if Deacon and I should wear white jumpsuits with tacky capes. For a second, I thought I’d be barred from the ceremony. After that, I held my tongue.
I wore my dark gray suit and Ayla’s dress was a shimmery silver sheath and was tea length. She and Anton traded places as she ran next door to help Melody. A few minutes later, Deacon knocked on our door, trailed by a very hungover Austin. Chase followed suit, in slightly better shape for foregoing the party.
Once they were all inside, I mentally did the math and found us one short.
“Where’s Sean?”
Austin and Chase exchanged exasperated looks.
“Helping the girls of course. He said he needed to help Mel’ get ready.”
That didn’t sit right with me, so I looked at Anton who was busy fumbling with his cufflinks.
“Doesn’t that bother you Anton? Some guy is next door helping your future wife get dressed!”
He looked at me and rolled his eyes.
“I haven’t seen the dress, but I know it’s strapless. She has to wear a corset with it. Have you seen the buttons and hooks on a corset? They’ll need muscle to get her into that thing. If it were one of you guys, I’d have to rip your lips off and stuff them up your ass. They’ll need Sean.”
I could not digest this information. I hazarded a glance at Deacon who was smi
rking. Then he mouthed, “Five hundred dollars”, and I narrowed my eyes.
“You’re telling me that you’re okay with Sean seeing Melody practically naked.
Anton was slipping into his suit coat and checking himself out in the mirror.
“He helps runway models dress for a living Pierce. She hasn’t got anything he hasn’t seen before. I’d be more uncomfortable if he were helping me get dressed. You realize he’s gay, right?”
I still couldn’t get my head wrapped around it.
“You don’t think he’s seen Ayla naked, do you?”
Austin started laughing out loud and Chase joined in. I failed to see the humor.
“What? He’s a good looking man!”
Deacon was leaning against the wall with his arms folded.
“Strange that you would notice that Pierce. Something you’d like to share?”
My expression gave me away and they all started laughing.
“Oh piss off the lot of you! I don’t care if he’s wearing pink underwear and mascara, I don’t want another man seeing Ayla naked!”
Austin slapped my back in jest.
“That boat has sailed my friend. You do know Ayla was a stripper once, right?”
Thank god the bed was behind me or I’d have hit the floor.
“She was a what?”
Chase slapped Austin on the back of the head but his eyes were twinkling.
“Quit teasing him Austin, look at him. You’ve fried his circuits.”
I looked around and all of them were sharing a joke at my expense. I glared at Austin who didn’t seem the least bit intimidated.
“That’s a horrible thing to say about your own sister. Have you no shame?”
“Nope. She would’ve pissed herself laughing if she’d heard that and you know it. I can’t believe you fell for it! Ayla? Our Ayla? She gets embarrassed if she’s seen in her bathing suit Pierce! Lighten up! Seriously man, this is supposed to be a festive occasion!”