“Let’s go,” Tyler says, leading us through the extravagant space. Cooper, Nessie, and I trail behind him, trying to take in each detail. The elevators are gold with a hammered finish that, like most things in the hotel, adds a sense of wealth and style. We pass them, stopping at the end where the elevator has a stone finish.
We get inside, and Tyler flashes his phone. “Welcome, Mr. Banks,” a speaker in the elevator says as the doors slide shut.
“This is ridiculous,” Coop says, shaking his head.
When the doors reopen at the top floor, the shock and amazement that hits me each time we walk into one of the rooms is even stronger as this room might be the most extravagant of them all, which is fitting, considering this is the city of lights, known for glamour and everything being over the top. I try to count the chandeliers, each dripping with beveled glass and opulence. As in New Orleans, there are multiple seating areas, each tied together with matching furniture and massive area rugs.
We pass all of them, then follow the wall of windows into the kitchen. It’s small and gourmet—made for looks rather than use, I’ve realized. I’m sure most who can afford to stay in this room have little to no use for the kitchen unless they have a personal chef who travels with them, which strangely seems like a reality as we tread into our ninth day of living in this extravagant lifestyle.
“Champagne,” Nessie says, stopping at the counter where the bottle sits in an ice bucket, surrounded by a small mountain of chocolate-dipped strawberries, a full charcuterie board, and a small bottle of whiskey.
“Damn, this looks good,” Coop says, inspecting the charcuterie board that has started to become a staple with our last few stops.
“We should make a toast,” Nessie says, reaching for the champagne. “Ty, do you have to work much, or do you have the weekend off?”
Tyler picks up the bottle of whiskey and twists it around in his hands. “I have to get some work in. This location has been under new management for six months, and during that time, half the staff has turned over.”
I stare at him—it’s difficult not to stare at Tyler—because the moody and bossy and confounding man is easily the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. All angular lines and chiseled features, perfectly mussed hair, and lips that are so distracting you can’t help but stare when he talks and imagine what it would feel like to kiss him. Mix that with the devious glint in his eyes and the rewarding feeling of catching one of his rare smiles, and it makes it nearly impossible not to stare. I wonder if he’s regretting last night—if that’s why his gaze seems almost glacial today. Is it because he told me that girl meant nothing? Because he revealed a thin sliver about caring what I thought?
The thoughts compound and overwhelm me, making me feel suddenly exhausted all over again. I wish I had allotted some of our time yesterday in the desert to talk about this with Nessie. Maybe she would have some insight, or at the very least, an unbiased opinion.
Nessie screams as the top of the champagne pops as Cooper opens it. She follows it with laughter that Coop joins in, and for a second, I feel a sense of melancholy as my attention turns to them. I don’t know how I didn’t see that they were perfect for each other years ago. I’m envious of how determined they were to be together and how completely smitten they are. How quick they are to laugh and how both of them seem on a constant quest to bring the other one happiness.
Cooper fills four glasses with the bubbly liquid. “To Vanessa and her wild sense of adventure that thankfully led her back to me.”
I grin, shifting my gaze to Nessie. “To Tyler, for hooking us up on the most epic adventure ever.”
They turn to Ty, who’s standing beside Nessie. “To being halfway done with this exhausting trip,” he says, his expression once again impassive.
“Cheers to that,” I mutter, tipping my glass back before it’s my turn to say anything because at this point, I have nothing more to say.
Nessie and I spend well over an hour getting ready in our mini spa of a bathroom decorated in teal and gold and looks so gaudy and yet extravagant enough that it somehow works. And when Nessie suggests I wear a black dress she bought for Vegas that is shorter and tighter and more revealing than anything I’d normally wear, I don’t object. Tonight, I want to draw attention to myself and go back to ignoring and avoiding Tyler and not caring about why he’s being hot or cold and worrying that I’m the cause.
Nessie is in a silver dress with a deep cowl neck that she rocks like it was made for her. Nerves dance through my belly at the prospect of seeing Tyler, but when we step into the living room, Cooper is sitting on the couch and watching the news. His eyes shift to us, and then he blinks and does a double take, a goofy grin curling his mouth.
“Wow. You look … amazing.” He stands, walking over to Nessie and pressing a kiss to her cheek. I remember when he used to look at new gaming and computer stuff with that same envious stare, and it makes my lips twitch with a smile as I redirect my attention to the mostly empty bottle of champagne, choosing to finish it straight from the bottle instead of pouring it into a glass.
“Are you guys ready?” he asks.
“Where’s Ty?” Nessie looks around.
“He had to go do something for work. He said he’d meet us there.”
“Poor guy. It’s Saturday night,” Vanessa says.
I reserve my right to roll my eyes as I set the empty bottle down and lead the way to the elevator.
We could take a car, but since this is our first time in Vegas, we opt to walk. Each casino is different, the architecture, the colors, the plants all competing to be the most extravagant. The Banks Hotel is non-gaming and vastly smaller than the ones we pass through, which all have row upon row of brightly colored slot machines and posters with half-naked men, contrasted with class and luxury displayed in the architecture and elaborate décor.
Nessie’s hair is straight as pins while mine is in waves, but hair and dress differences aside, I still hear whispers of twins nearly always followed up with a crude remark that has me regretting the tiny dress and craving the comfort of my sweatpants again.
“They’re gross. Ignore them,” Nessie says, linking her arm with mine. “Don’t let it get in your head. You’re gorgeous and sexy, and you should own it tonight. Forget stupid boys, forget all your rules, and just have fun.”
She’s right, of course. My thoughts are still stuck on details, wondering what others think of me rather than on the here and now and having a good time. I square my shoulders, and when a guy turns to leer at us, I stare at him with a challenge that has him ducking his head.
I expel a deep breath, confidence radiating from me as we make the long walk to the hotel the club is in, and I don’t waste another second thinking or caring about anyone else as we explore the casinos, talking about which ones we want to come back and explore more of tomorrow.
“Are we really going to cut the line again?” I ask.
Cooper grins. “Party like a rockstar.”
Nessie laughs. “It’s crazy to think in a couple of weeks we’re going to be going back to work and school and eating Top Ramen again.”
Before we can reply, the bouncer at the door looks at us. He’s well over six feet and solid, likely intended to look like a threat, or at least make people question doing something stupid. His bald head shines with sweat as he greets us with a straight face. Cooper shows him his ID, and the bouncer looks over a shortlist on a clipboard and then nods, beckoning us forward. He places bright pink bracelets around our wrists. “My friend Angel is going to show you guys around. Please let us know if you need anything.”