“Yep. We’re hitting Edge in a little bit,” I said.
“And that includes Kate?” Christine lifted a brow in question.
I stared at her inquisitively. Why did she single out the gorgeous brunette? “She’s usually part of the crew. Why do you bring her up?”
She smiled coyly. “No reason.”
I crossed my arms. “Bull. You always have a reason. Are you running a secret underground perfume ring with her?”
Christine laughed. “No, but thanks for the new business idea. And, honestly, I’ve just noticed that you always seem to sparkle when you mention her.”
I furrowed my brow. “I do not sparkle. I’m not a vampire.”
Her eyes glinted. “But you know that vampires sparkle in Twilight. That’s adorable.”
“That’s something everyone knows,” I said, defending myself once again. “Also, I don’t sparkle, period.”
“Maybe a little sparkle?” She narrowed her eyes and held up two fingers, a sliver of space between them. “That’s what I told my girlfriends. That you sparkle just the slightest bit. They all think it’s endearing. A sparkly little brother.”
I groaned. “Please tell me you aren’t telling your friends about me and trying to set me up again.”
She dropped her mouth wide open in a who, me gesture. “Moi? I’d never do that. I prefer to push you directly toward the women I think are best for you.” She winked, then returned to her normal voice. “Anyway, I’m glad you’ll see her. Like I said, you light up when you talk about her,” she said, her word choice deliberate.
“It’s not as if I’m a beacon of darkness when she’s not around.”
Christine peered at me again, then tapped my forehead with her index finger. “True, but if this work-too-hard routine keeps up, I’m going to order you some Botox, since it looks like you’ve aged ten years. And let’s be honest, the ladies aren’t going to be that into you as a forty-year-old.”
I mimed stabbing my heart. “Dig the knife a little deeper, why don’t you?”
She grabbed the imaginary blade and happily dug around in my chest with a wide smile that stretched to her eyes. “With pleasure.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re sweet?”
She shook her head. “Nope. No one.”
“That’s what I thought,” I teased as she grabbed a tiny bottle that looked Parisian. She held it up for my approval. The name said Come What May.
What the hell did I know about perfume?
Nothing.
But I knew sisters. And Christine wanted me to be involved in the gift-giving.
I took the bottle, studied it, sniffed it, and declared it fine.
“Great. Let’s get it for her, and we’ll give it to her next week.” As we headed to the counter, Christine wagged her finger at me. “And when Sunday rolls around, I want to see that you’ve given yourself some me time, Kate or not.”
I scoffed at the notion. Guys didn’t need me time.
Yet, I definitely could use a break.
Maybe I was a little addicted to work these days.
And I knew the cost, had seen it in my dad. Only recently had he started to prioritize health over work. While our situations were vastly different, I did need to be smart, to be cautious.
Trouble was, work was my natural state. The only way to not work was to fill the time with something else.
When I said goodbye to Christine, I made my way to The Luxe, thinking about how to keep busy.
My mind kept returning to Kate.
She’s been on my mind more often than not lately. I wasn’t sure when she’d commandeered her bit of real estate in my head, but there she was.
Might as well send her a text.
I took out my phone, tapping out a note as I walked.
We traded messages about bets and gloves and hard asses, and as I read them over, a smile tugged at my lips.
Maybe Christine was onto something.
Talking to Kate was always a good time.
And evidently, that was what I needed.
4
Kate
With a smile courtesy of Jake’s texts, I popped open my lipstick tube in the ladies’ room.
As I touched up the color, someone pushed hard on the door, and a gaggle of laughter followed as two women poured in. The bride and the maid of honor.
“You have to do this,” the bride said, in that insistent tone women took with their besties.
“But this is your weekend,” the maid of honor said, sounding apologetic.
“It’s our weekend, Sidney. We’re out of town. And you’re single.” The bride waved her phone around. “You need to have this hottie to get David the Douche out of your system.”
Yup. Called it. The bride wants to sprinkle sex magic on the maid of honor.
I capped the tube and tucked it into my purse. In the mirror, the bride caught my gaze, asking me, “Doesn’t Sidney need this absolutely divine man?”
Ah, the instant friendship afforded by the ladies’ room. “I’m going to need to see the goods before I answer that.”
“Of course. Look. Just look.” The bride shoved her phone at me, showcasing a picture of a man in a tailored suit. Chiseled jaw. Dark hair. Mesmerizing eyes.
“Why, yes,” I said, “I’ll take one of him too. Double serving. À la mode, please.” The guy was a ringer for Henry Cavill.
“You can have him,” the woman said excitedly, emphasis on can.
“Are you giving him away? Is he a party favor?” I asked with a laugh.
The bride laughed, too, and shook her head. “You can order Antony from Sin City Escorts.”
Everything clicked.
This was indeed the extra fun kind of girls’ weekend. The kind involving male escorts from the local firm that had made a name for itself in that department. “Good choice. Sin City has the hottest men in Vegas. And many are especially good at getting an ex out of your head.”
“See!” The bride practically jumped up and down, then she turned to me and gripped my arm. “Her ex was a dick. He cheated on her with literally everyone in Phoenix. I want her to use this weekend here in Vegas to forget him. Doesn’t she deserve this one?”
The bride thrust the phone at me again, showing off the hottie she wanted to order for Sidney.
Deserve.
That was a potent word.
Don’t you deserve a girls’ weekend?
Don’t you deserve something special?
Don’t you deserve this man?
That could work in some girls’ night out marketing.
Sidney sighed longingly as she stared at the image, hunger in her eyes. Then she shrugged happily. “Why not? Throw caution to the wind.”
That was one more thing you could lose in Vegas.
Worries.
“Toss that restraint out the door,” I said in the spirit of things. “Use a condom, give consent, and then have the time of your life.”
The bride grinned broadly. “See? She thinks you should do it.”
“Do it,” I said.
Once I left them to their adventures, my friends and I headed for Edge, our favorite club. A few minutes later, three men walked in, and my eyes arrowed right to one of them.