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CHAPTER1
“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person that walked in. That’s what the storm is all about.”
—Habuki Murakami
Madisen
“Woo hoo, baby. This place is fabulous!” Jenny threw her arms in the air, taking a deep whiff as she spun around in a circle.
She was acting as if the overwhelming fragrance in the casino was the most fabulous French perfume instead of a concoction of sweat, cheap men’s cologne, and the stench of cigar smoke.
The casino was overcrowded and full of drunk people, but there was excitement in the air, which was catching. “I guess.”
Yet somewhere deep inside, I felt an approaching storm, as if a tornado of clouds and wind would sweep me into a dark abyss. I had no idea why the notion had permeated every thought since arriving in Sin City, but I remained apprehensive, anticipating the worst.
“My God. We came all this way to celebrate your birthday and you’re acting as if I took you to get a root canal.”
She’d been my best friend since becoming my first year dormmate at college. Her lust for life was amazing and enviable, but how she’d bamboozled me into heading to Vegas for the weekend was beyond me. I wasn’t into bright lights and crowds, and she knew that. When I yanked on the costume she’d also convinced me to wear for the fifth time, she gave me one of her infamous looks, rolling her eyes.
“What?” I exclaimed as I searched for the closest bar. At least alcohol would help ease the anxiety.
“You look fabulous, very tempting.”
“To what, a witches’ society?” The outfit was tight, red, and if I bent over, my ass could be seen by just about everyone. To make matters worse, I was struggling to walk in four-inch heels instead of my usual Converse high tops. At least with all the garish makeup including glitter and the long, bright red curly wig, no one would recognize me. Not that I knew a soul in Vegas, but stranger things had happened.
“Oh, for God’s sake. It’s Halloween. It’s your birthday. You’re about to graduate from college a semester early. We’re in Las Vegas. The hunky man behind the hotel desk upgraded us to a suite and we are two single, hot women. What’s there to complain about?”
“We were only upgraded because you flirted with the guy. It almost sounded like you offered him a blowjob in exchange.” When she shrugged, giving me a mischievous look, I smacked her arm. “You didn’t!”
“No. Of course not. I merely offered to have a drink with him later. He was one sizzling dude.”
“You think the guy on the Progressive Insurance commercial is hot.”
“Which one?”
“Let’s get a drink.” I took off without her, determined to find a tall glass of merlot. At least I was finally legally able to drink. That was one benefit to it being my twenty-first birthday. The only one I could think of.
“Then we dance and hunt down the perfect man as your sinful present.”
“Not a chance.”
“You need to get laid.”
I threw her a look, finally locating a neon lit bar, the fuchsia lighting calling my name. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that you have a crass mouth?”
“Did yours?” She opened her eyes wide then wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
The fact I’d lost both my parents when I was twelve haunted everyone I told, which was why I’d stopped doing so. “Let’s order a drink.”
“Then we find a man.”
“Is that why you insisted we come to Vegas?”
Jenny’s grin didn’t ordinarily irritate me. It did now. “Yes. You know what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
“If you use that line one more time, I’ll rip your throat out.”
She laughed, the sound so boisterous almost everyone from the male species looked in our direction. No mask or gawdy costume could keep hunger from their eyes. I purposely turned away as the bartender arrived to take our orders. I was almost hurt he didn’t ask for ID. Granted, I could be anyone hiding beneath the silk and gauze.
