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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Iput on a bikini, big sun hat, and my cutest royal blue cover-up, the little pompoms along its edge bouncing as I walked to the most gorgeous pool in Vegas. Amber and I stood for a moment at the entrance to the Garden of the Gods and took it in. The blue water sparkled under bright sun surrounded by white marble and gold statues.
“Wow,” Amber said.
“Yeah.”
“Where do we start?”
“Anywhere you want to. Let’s make our way to the Venus pool eventually and have a drink.”
We started in the Temple pool, swimming by towering columns in the circular layout, with fountains and statues burbling water, as drops cascaded from the top of the stone temple building at its center. There were seven pools in the giant outdoor complex filled with Roman replica architecture styled after a sumptuous Roman palace.
The Fortuna pool, with swim-up blackjack tables and a massive stone fountain, was one of my favorites. Neither ofus was all that interested in gambling, so we explored through the not overly crowded pools—it was a weekday.
At the bar by the Venus pool, Amber surprised me when she ordered a shot of bourbon and a whiskey sour. I went for chilled wine.
“Don’t stress, shug,” I said. “He could be fun.”
She swallowed her shot in one gulp, then covered her mouth with a hand. “I can’t,” she croaked.
I held up one finger. “We have to get your bag back.” Another finger flicked up. “How is that man going to survive without those flip-flops or the ugly white socks? The fact that those two things are together indicates, to me, we might be dealing with a nice guy with latent dad tendencies.”
“Sally. He saw my”—she glanced around the mostly empty bar—“you know, personal selfie stick. What am I going to do?”
I nodded solemnly. “Your massaging Bob. Spicy eggplant. Circuit breaker. Pocket rocket—”
“Stop. Do you think he’ll be on the flight back?”
“We’ll ask him.”
She sucked down her whiskey sour. Then hiccuped. “This place is closing down.”
I sighed. “Yeah, early hours on Wednesday. Let’s get changed and go grab some dinner.”
We both put on cute dresses, heels, and all the accessories. Luckily, most of Amber’s clothing was in the bag she still had.
“Red on you is a winner,” I said. “What do you think about a pub? I’m craving fish and chips.”
“Yes. Would you check my phone? I think there’s a message on it from that man.”
“Mario.” I took her phone. “He says he’s looking forward to seeing you again and wonders if he should come earlier in case you need your lacy underwear.”
“Oh, my word.”
“Covered for now,” I said as I typed in the text.
Amber: We’re headed out for dinner at Ramsay Pub and Grill. Then Vanderpump Cocktail Garden. Amber is freaking out so this is Sally. Don’t forget the bag or she may have a heart attack.
“Give me that phone.”
“Wait, he’s texting back.” I jumped up on my bed to get away from her. “He says, tell her not to worry, he has everything in hand. The undies are really soft.”
She jumped on the bed next to me, both of us bouncing on the springy mattress. “You’re going to kill me.”
“It’s all worth it to rescue your Bob.”
“Battery operated boyfriends are a dime a dozen. Humiliation lasts a lifetime.”
