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ONE
Emma
“Hurry up, Emma!”
I’m already hurrying, but I know better than to tell her that.
I’m on my hands and knees beside my lounge chair, scrambling to pack up my tote bag. My long cover-up keeps getting twisted around my legs as I shove everything into the bag.
I’m not even sure why I wore this down to the pool. I never set foot in the crystal clear water. I just hadn’t felt comfortable lying around in just my swimsuit. Not when I was here with my awful cousin and her even more terrible bridesmaids. They all were wearing their itty bitty bikini’s even though none of them got into the water, either.
They had said that they wanted to catch some sun and work on their tans but they had spent most of the time under the shade of the canopy. They just wanted to show off their bodies and have guys come over and hit on them.
I had done by best to ignore them.
I had been so caught up in reading my latest romance book that I didn’t even notice they had decided they were ready to leave. The bunch has been trying to ignore me all day, too, so it’s not like they would deign to speak to me and let me know their plans.
“Yeah, move your fat ass,” Chloe, my cousin’s maid of honor and best friend, whispers just loud enough for our entire group to hear.
My cheeks burn and I duck my head, shoving my Kindle into my tote and taking a deep breath before I push to my feet and follow after them miserably.
I’m in Las Vegas with my cousin, Taylor, and her three bridesmaids. We’re here for Taylor’s bachelorette party on Valentine’s Day weekend. We’ve only been here for twenty-four hours and so far, it’s been hell.
I’m not even sure why I’m here.
I’m not a bridesmaid. I’m not friends with any of these girls. I wasn’t even originally invited, but Taylor’s mom, my Aunt Kari, suggested I go along in front of everyone, and it felt like I couldn’t say no.
My Uncle Mitch is footing the bill. Otherwise, there’s no way I could afford a room at the Luxor or even the cabana service that Taylor insisted that we get by the pool. I’m not sure that I could afford dinner with these girls, to be honest.
I’m an elementary school teacher and my salary isn’t really equipped to handle a spur of the moment trip to Las Vegas, no matter how cheap the flights are.
“We should hit up the spa after lunch. Get a massage or some mani-pedis and just relax. Take some time for ourselves. We’ve certainly earned it,” Chloe says with an exhausted sigh, linking her arms through Taylor’s and Nikki’s.
Nikki links hers with her twin sister Kaitlyn and they giggle as I trail behind. I’m not stupid enough to even attempt to link my arm with any of theirs and to be honest, I’d rather not be associated with any of them.
They’re all spoiled rotten.
Kaitlyn and Nikki both work for their parent’s company back in Destiny Falls but truthfully, I’m using the term work so generously that I could deduct it on my taxes. Chloe married some lawyer who is twice her age. Everyone in town knows that they only got married because she’s arm candy and he’s rich.
It seems like a crappy life and an even dumber reason to get married. When I marry, I want to do it for love. Not for someone’s bank account or looks.
I’m not sure how they think they “earned” a massage or a manicure. They’ve literally done nothing but lay on a lounge chair by the pool all morning, sipping on fruity drinks and making fun of people whose swimsuits or bodies they think don’t meet their high standards.
I’m sure you can guess, but yeah, there were a ton.
And I, with my size twenty one-piece swimsuit hugging my curves, had been one of their most popular targets. Even with the bulky cover-up shielding my body from their sight.
I’ve been hearing their snide comments and mean taunts for most of my life. We all grew up in Destiny Falls, Michigan and while Taylor and her friends are all a few years older than me, I still saw them around school and in town.
In case you’re wondering, yes, they’ve always been this mean.
They were skinny in high school, too, while I have always been on the curvy side.
We hit the elevators and I sigh in relief when I see there’s a few other people about to get on. Maybe there won’t be enough room for me and I can hang back and get a break from them for a few minutes.
A few older women go to step on but Taylor and the bridesmaids from hell cut in front of them. I offer the older ladies an apologetic smile and take a step back, letting them get on ahead of me.
“I’ll catch the next one,” I tell Taylor as the doors slide closed.
