Play to Win

by Kelly Jamieson

  Chapter 5

  Lacey

  This is turning into a party, which I’ve always loved, but I wish it was anywhere else but here. The servers are giving me weird looks, and it’s only a matter of time until Enrico discovers I’m sitting here drinking champagne after being fired.

  But like Théo said, I’m a paying customer now. Well, except I’m not paying. Someone is, though.

  Hmmm, I knocked back those glasses of Jack pretty quick.

  Fuck it. Right now, I don’t give a shit about anything. I lost my job and don’t have enough money in the bank to pay the rent. Chris has disappeared and sicced the mob on me. I could go home and lock my doors and cry in my bed, but that won’t change anything, and staying here and having a few drinks with some…well, strangers, but they seem decent, isn’t going to change anything either.

  I’m on my own in the world. I have been for a while, I have to admit, since Chris sure as hell isn’t there for me. He’s doing the opposite in fact. I might as well do what I want.

  I knock back my first glass of champagne all at once. Hey, those flutes are small.

  “Easy there, lush puppy,” Théo says. “I know you had a bad day, but you don’t want to get ham sandwiched.”

  This strikes me as hilarious. I start to laugh, but then the laugh turns into a sob. This man doesn’t even know me, but he knows I’ve had a shit day—no, a shit life—and my own brother doesn’t care, and…and Théo’s looking out for me. I could bawl my eyes out.

  No. I am not going to feel sorry for myself. “I’m fine.” I meet his eyes, determined to be cheerful. “But if I want to get ham sandwiched, I will.”

  His lips quirk. “Okay, sure.”

  “Let’s go down to the pool bar,” Brent suggests.

  This sounds like a fun idea.

  “But we just ordered all this champagne,” Théo points out.

  “That’s not a problem,” I tell him. “We can get to-go cups.”

  Crystal brings us the giant plastic wineglasses we give customers to take their leftover wine with them, which hold about half a bottle, and we fill them up and head to the elevator. She’s giving me bug-eyed looks that clearly say, What the hell is going on?

  We’re all drinking champagne as Danny gets us into the pool party by giving the doorman some folded bills. I feel the thumping music inside me, dazzled by colored lights everywhere—the pool glows turquoise, the walls around the pool area shimmer with multicolored lights, and there’s a big video screen above the stage at one end with spotlights that swing around. The beat of the music the DJ is playing surrounds us along with half naked, wet dancing bodies. The air is still warm and lots of people are in the pool, dancing in the water with their drinks in the air. It’s a crazy party vibe, and we stroll around the pool taking it in. We’re pretty much the only ones not wearing swimsuits, but oh well.

  The song is “Make It Bounce” by Martin Vide, and everyone’s bouncing all right. I can’t help but move my shoulders to the music as we wander. A bunch of girls in bikinis eye the group of guys and smile at them, and next thing I know we’ve joined them. I don’t know if these guys are all single or married, but I guess it’s not my business if they want to party.

  “Okay, not my scene,” Jeff says to the guys. “I’m out. You young pups have fun.”

  “Same,” says Ivan, who is apparently the coach of the team. They both give Théo bro hugs, exchanging final goodbyes and good lucks and backslaps while I stand and groove to the music, drinking champagne and wondering what the hell is happening.

  The girls have a big high-top table, so I drop my backpack beneath it. And what the hell…I toe off my high heels and plant my bare feet onto the cement pool deck. Aw fuck, that feels good. I wiggle my toes and rock back and forth on my angry soles.

  The music changes to “In My Mind” by Dynoro, a slower song but with a catchy, sexy beat. I’m still moving, and Théo notices and grins. He grabs my hips and pulls me up to him, moving our bodies together now to the sultry beat.

  I smile at him as I drape my arms over his shoulders. “Are you married?”

  “Fuck no.” He frowns. “Why?”

  “Just wondering.” I jerk my head toward the other guys, now dancing with the girls they just met. “Are they?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Not that it matters to me. I mean, I don’t even know you guys, and you’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “Right.”

  Our bodies grind together in a way that’s a bit dirty and a lot sexy, our eye contact holding and drawing out. The electronic beat of the music fills me up. I’ve still got my champagne and I take a sip.

  “This is wild,” Théo says.

  “You don’t party like this every weekend?”

  “God no. I work way too much for stuff like this.”

  “Ah. Too bad.” I pat his chest. Which is firm and muscular. I’m feeling a little warm between my thighs at our sexy dancing and the feel of his hands and his body and…his smile. The way it heats his eyes and reaches way inside me…My hand lingers on his chest, absorbing the heat from his body through his shirt. “Everyone deserves to have fun once in a while.”

  “Even you?” His gaze fastens on to my face. “Why do I have a feeling you don’t get much fun either?”

  I huff out a sigh. “Okay, not lately, true.”

  “I know you’ve got some big problems. But tonight…can just be for fun.”

  I slowly smile and move with his body. His eyes darken and his fingers tighten on my hips.

  My skin buzzes, my heart picks up speed, and our eyes lock together in a trancelike connection of heat and desire.

  When the song ends we move apart and turn back to the table.

  “You guys are way overdressed for a pool party.” One of the girls points at all of us.

  “Yeah, you need to get wet!” another says.

  Danny and Brent look at each other, shrug, and then they toss their cellphones onto the table, take two big steps, and jump in to the pool with a big splash.

  I laugh and cringe a little as water drops splash me. I glance at Théo. His sculpted lips are curved into a smile and he’s shaking his head. “Idiots.”

  “Come on, Wynn! Get in! The water’s nice.”

  “I’m not the type of guy who jumps into a pool with his clothes on,” he calls back to them.

  I shoot him a curious, smiling glance. “No? No spontaneity?”

  “I like to plan my spontaneity well ahead of time.”

  Another laugh bubbles up inside me, and as our eyes meet again we share the joke.

  “Well, I’m the type.” I walk to the edge of the pool, take a step, and drop straight down into the water. It’s not deep here, only up to my chest.

  The guys cheer me, and Théo is once again shaking his head, arms crossed.

  “Come on!” I splash some water his way. “What did you just tell me?”

  Sighing, he toes off his shoes, adds his cellphone to the others on the table, and takes a running leap, sending up a geyser of water around us.

  I’m laughing so hard. He finds me in the pool and clasps my waist. He’s grinning too, water dripping from his hair. “This is nuts.”

  “This is Vegas, baby. Your last chance to let loose in Sin City before you leave.”

  The girls have jumped in too, now flirting with the other guys. There appears to be an unspoken understanding that Théo and I are together.

  We dance and party in the pool as the DJ spins some great music. When we all get out, the guys take off their shirts and then their pants. They’re all wearing boxers, which aren’t much different than the swim shorts most guys are wearing. I’m jealous, because I’m stuck in a wet dress, not about to strip down to bra and panties.

  I’m also having a ha
rd time keeping my eyes off Théo’s ripped torso and muscled shoulders. I mean, I can’t even.

  “You’re wet,” Théo says with a gleam in his eye.

  “I am.” I look down at myself, at the already tight dress clinging even more. “But this fabric will dry fast.” There’s no sun, but the air is still warm. I reach up to pull out the pins that hold my hair back for work, which kept it mostly dry in the pool, and let my long hair fall around me. I run my hands through it and shake it back. When I look up, Théo is regarding me with a hot, hungry expression.

  “You have gorgeous hair,” he says hoarsely.

  “Thanks.”

  I don’t know how much time passes or how many drinks are consumed as we party and dance, until the other guys are putting their clothes back on, apparently leaving with the girls. There are a few low-voiced comments between the men, and then they say goodbye to Théo as well with more hand clasps and bro hugs.

  And Théo and I are alone.

  We both still have drinks to finish. We lean on the table, music and lights pulsing around us.

  “So, what are you going to do about those assholes who came after you tonight?”

  I blow out a breath. “I don’t know.”

  “Here’s an idea.” He sips his drink. “Come to California with me.”

  Chapter 6

  Lacey

  “I wish I could do that,” I say wistfully, gazing at people partying in the pool.

  “Why not? You just got fired. You can’t go home. You know you can’t fix your brother. You don’t have control over him.”

  “I know.” I give a soft snort and shift to face him. “I can’t even find him.”

  “He’s going to show up. He’s going to be looking for money.”

  “You’re probably right. But I can go back to working as a budtender.”

  “A what? Bartender?”

  “Budtender. At one of the cannabis dispensaries. I did that for a while.”

  “Seriously? Selling marijuana?”

  “Yeah. I also worked as a camp counselor at a doggie daycare, and I’ve done face painting for kids. I actually loved that job.” I pause. “Also, I do freelance makeup for some showgirls here, when I can.”

  “Uh…okay. I mean, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble getting another job, but that’s not the point. You need to cut him loose. You can’t keep enabling him.”

  My bottom lip quivers. “I know.”

  “So come with me.”

  My chin drops nearly to my chest. “Are you serious?” I’d been sure he was making a drunken joke.

  “Yeah. You might think this is spontaneous, but—”

  “You can’t tell me you’ve been planning all night to ask me to come with you.”

  “Well, no, but I have thought through the pros and cons. Listen, this could be a win-win situation for both of us. You can’t go home. You don’t have a job. Your brother needs to deal with his problems himself. You can stay with me as long as you want. His bookies won’t find you there. He won’t find you there.”

  “All true,” I say slowly. “But what’s in it for you?”

  “I told you about my brother and Emma.”

  “Your girlfriend.”

  “Ex.”

  “Right.”

  “If I go home with a gorgeous new girlfriend, I won’t feel like such a pathetic loser.”

  Gorgeous. My belly heats. “But I’m not your girlfriend.”

  “We’ll tell them you are.”

  I throw back my head and laugh. “Oh my God! Are we acting out a romance novel? Nobody does that in real life.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s crazy, that’s why.”

  “You seem like you don’t mind a bit of adventure.”

  I purse my lips and regard him. He’s right. And I’m just drunk enough to think that disappearing for a while with this man is a fantastic idea.

  The responsibility I’ve had to learn over the years, looking after my mom, looking after Chris, finding jobs and paying bills and cooking meals, is instilled in me enough that I hesitate. I don’t even know this man. This could be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve done some dumb things.

  The allure of it is irresistible, though. A chance to chuck my problems, leave them behind me and escape. Even if it’s just for a while.

  “Okay, if you don’t want to be a pretend girlfriend, here’s something even better…you can be my real wife.”

  My mouth falls open again, my eyes bugging out wide. “Wife?”

  “We’re in Vegas. A quickie marriage totally makes sense. Right?”

  I laugh. “Absolutely.” Now I know he’s not serious.

  “How do we do that?” He pulls out his phone and starts swiping at the screen.

  “Stop. We don’t have to get married.”

  “Sure, we do. I have to make an honest woman of you.”

  Laughter bubbles up inside me again. “You’d only have to do that if we’d slept together first.”

  “If you insist.” He’s still looking at his phone, but his lips quirk. “Damn. We need to get a marriage license.”

  “Oh well.”

  “No, we have time. They’re open until midnight. Let’s go.”

  I’m laughing and protesting as he grabs my backpack. I nearly trip as I try to slide my feet into my pumps, one hand in his as he tugs me out of the pool party. This is not happening.

  Out in front of the hotel, I try to reason with him, even though my blood is racing with excitement. I haven’t done something this wild in a long, long time. There hasn’t been a lot of time for fun in my life for a long, long time.

  “Look,” I say. “If you’re not the kind of guy to jump into a pool with your clothes on, you’re not the type of guy for a quickie Vegas marriage.”

  “I did jump into the pool with my clothes on.”

  “Um…okay, you got me there. I’m just worried you’re going to regret this.”

  “It’s just temporary. You need to get out of town. I need a girlfriend. Er, wife. Right?”

  I shove a hand into my hair, rub the back of my head and then down through my hair. Then I grin. “Right.”

  He grins back. A taxi pulls up and we jump in. He gives the driver the address on Clark Avenue. “And hurry,” he says. “We have to make it there by midnight.”

  “You got it.”

  It takes us about ten minutes to get there. As we drive, Théo is on his phone again. “Okay, I found a chapel that’s still open.” He makes the call and books us in.

  We arrive at the courthouse. Théo asks the taxi driver to wait for us, which seems extravagant to me since we have no idea how long this will take. Actually, it can’t take that long, because they close in ten minutes. As we run up the steps, I take in the sign above the door: MARRIAGE LICENSE BUREAU.

  I know it’s crazy. I just don’t care.

  It’s not busy at all there; in fact on this Tuesday night, we’re the only ones there, so it doesn’t take long to get the license. Then we’re back in the taxi, on our way to Las Vegas Boulevard.

  I’ve been to one of these weddings before; my friend Karine and her husband did this. Only they planned it a little more than we did. She at least had a white dress and flowers and me there as her maid of honor. I have nobody. I’m wearing a dress I just wore in a pool, smelling of chlorine, and I bet my mascara is smudged under my eyes.

  I don’t care.

  The neon sign above the door of the wedding chapel glows hot pink and blue. I laugh out loud at the flashing bulbs around the sign. Ridiculous.

  We cross the terra-cotta tiles past some potted palms and bright flowers, and enter the building. Again, at this hour, we’re the only ones here.

&
nbsp; The woman who greets us starts to talk, then says, “Lacey!”

  Oh my God. “Janaya! Hi!”

  Théo watches, bemused, as we hug.

  “How are you?” I ask her. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “I’m good! I have three babies. They’re awesome!”

  “Oh wow, that’s amazing!”

  I turn to Théo. “Théo, this is Janaya. We went to high school together. Janaya, this is Théo.”

  “You’re getting married!” She claps her hands together. “Exciting!”

  I’m not about to tell her the whole story. “So exciting!”

  “Okay, let’s do this. Come this way.”

  Janaya is obviously experienced at her job, running through the different packages. “The traditional wedding is $79.99. It includes the officiant signing the marriage certificate, a witness—which I assume you need since you’re here alone; that would be me.” She flashes a white smile. “And one complimentary photograph. Then there’s the signature wedding, which is $149.99, and includes music, fifteen digital photos, a wedding bouquet and boutonniere, witness if necessary—again, me.” She beams. “We also have—”

  “We’ll take that,” Théo says. “The signature wedding.”

  “Of course!”

  “We don’t need to spend that much,” I say to Théo in a low aside.

  He laughs. “You need a bouquet.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Janaya bustles away to do her stuff, and when she returns she’s carrying not only a bouquet and boutonniere, but a veil. “It’s not included,” she whispers. “But who cares.”

  She helps me fasten the veil to my head in front of a mirror. “I like it.” I turn my head and the tiara glitters in the lights. “I’ve always loved tiaras.” I’ve always loved anything sparkly.

  Moments later, it’s all over and we are pronounced man and wife. “You may kiss your bride,” the officiant tells Théo.

  Our eyes meet. I suddenly feel shy. Not that I don’t want to kiss him—I do. I have pretty much since I met him, when was that…four hours ago?