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It could be he was right, but Drew knew one thing for certain. She had a bigger purpose right now, and that stumble had put her dangerously close to letting it get away from her. As tempting as the promise of a good time might be, Drew couldn’t lose sight of why she was in Vegas, and that damn well didn’t involve going gaga over a chick.
CHAPTERFIVE
“Zombie burlesque?”Maisie didn’t know exactly what expression her face had twisted itself into, but she had a feeling it was quite the sight. “Is that even a real thing?”
“It is.” Donna grinned with an unbridled excitement that deepened Maisie’s confusion. “The tickets have dropped from one-fifty to only ninety-one dollars each. What do you say?”
I say that’s only nine dollars less than the overpriced buffet, where at least I’m fairly certain brains aren’t on the menu.
“I’ve got some jet lag coming on,” Maisie lied. “I’m going to turn in early, but you should totally go.”
“Are you sure?” Donna glanced behind her to the arena where Cheryl was still hanging out with her new cowboy friends. “I feel terrible leaving you stranded all alone.”
“Don’t be silly,” Maisie assured her. She held up her phone, giving it a wiggle. “I’ve got the best drag queen chauffeur in Las Vegas on my speed dial and a book waiting on my nightstand back at the hotel. I’ll be fine.”
“If you really don’t mind.” Donna clapped her hands together before making a dash toward the street. She raised one hand when she reached the curb, calling back, “See you in the morning!”
Maisie waved, wearing a bright smile until she was certain Donna was no longer looking, at which point a frown etched her features as she contemplated what to do next. Did she really feel like going back to the hotel and reading?
I’m notthatboring.
Maisie pulled out her wallet, doing a quick mental inventory. She had a five and two twenties. Not exactly rolling in it, but the rodeo running out of beer had been a good thing for her budget. The least she could do for fun was go into the arena’s attached casino, plunk what she would’ve spent on a drink into a slot machine, and see how long it lasted. She was frugal, sure, but even she wouldn’t feel very bad losing such a small amount.
If I win, I can keep playing,she promised herself.
Pleased with her plan, Maisie marched through the doors marked Casino and took up residence at a slot machine advertising nickel bids. She slipped five dollars into the bill slot and contemplated her options.
“Your odds are better if you wager twenty-five cents,” a woman in a cocktail server’s uniform told her, sliding up beside the machine with a tray in her hand.
Before she could overthink it, Maisie touched the tip of her finger to the suggested amount and reached for the big handle on the side of the machine.
“Those are mostly for show,” the server said. “There’s a button on the screen.”
“Maybe so, but this makes me feel like I’m really doing something, you know?”
“I couldn’t agree more. Hey, look at that.” The flashing lights from the slot machine made the server’s eyes sparkle. “You doubled your money.”
“For real?” Maisie bobbed in her seat.
“Yes, for real. So, what can I get ya to drink, sugar?”
“Oh, I put all my cash in the machine.” At least all that she planned to spend.
Instead of moving on, the woman laughed. “Honey, don’t you know as long as you’re gambling, the drinks are on the house?”
“Really?” Maisie’s eyes widened. “I thought that was only for the high rollers, or whatever they’re called.”
“I’ll admit we only make the rounds on the nickel slots every few hours, but it appears this is your lucky day.”
“I guess maybe it is.” Maisie thought for a moment. “Could I get a light beer?”
“You could, but it hardly seems worth it. You like rum?”
“Who doesn’t?” Maisie had never had rum, but she felt foolish admitting that to a Vegas cocktail server.
“In that case, I’ll bring you one of our signature cocktails.” With that, the server headed to the next person, five slots down from Maisie.
Maisie turned her attention to the slot machine, which along with the old-fashioned handle, had reassuringly traditional images like cherries, the number seven, a free bar, gold bells, and some other things likeQuick Hit. Honestly, she wasn’t sure how the game worked, but taking the server’s advice of wagering twenty-five cents each time, Maisie kept pulling the handle. Each time the screen reloaded, bells tingled, and lines configured connecting patterns that indicated she’d done something right. Slowly, the dollar amount on her screen ticked upward, though Maisie found herself more impressed with the bells and lights.
