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Pinching my lips together to keep a huge smile off my face, I turned away and went into the bathroom. Where I took my time.
When I walked back to the table, they were holding hands, with Amber smirking while Mario whisperedsomething in her ear. I sat down a couple feet away from Amber on the white tufted cushion seat that wrapped around an indoor tree.
For the next five minutes, I sipped my Puff the Magic Dragon cocktail—a mix of mezcal, dragon fruit, lemon, orange bitters, Firewater Bitters, jalapeño, and Tajín. I sent a picture of the drink to Hank and didn’t hear back.
Amber scooted over to me as I set my empty cocktail glass on a table, her eyes wide. “Mario’s asking if we want to go dance at the club next door,” she said close to my ear. “What do you think?”
“Sure. I think I’ll disappear soon though.”
“What? I don’t…I mean…do you think I should?”
“Have some fun. Call me if he turns into a troll, but otherwise see you tomorrow, shug.”
“Wait—don’t go yet. I’ll be right back.” Amber jumped up and headed to the bathroom.
I moved closer to Mario. “How long are you in Vegas?”
He cleared his throat and set his empty glass down. “Saturday.”
“Us too. I guess we’ll be flying back together.”
His eyebrows went up and he nodded. “Okay.”
I watched him, not sure what to make of Mario. He seemed very into Amber, and I had to credit him for good taste, but his playfulness was very smooth.
“What brought you to Vegas?” he asked, having to shout somewhat to be heard over the music.
“Vacation. You?”
“Parents are here,” he said.
I nodded. Hopefully, he’d have some time to spend lounging around with us next to the Venus pool over the next couple of days.
Amber came back, her eyes on Mario. She stood straightand tall as usual, with her pretty red dress swishing as she walked. They smiled at each other.
We walked down the wide casino hall decorated with Roman-style stone friezes, frescoes, and architecture, and into a club shockingly full for a Wednesday night. The bar staff was as efficient as a well-oiled machine and it didn’t take long for us each to have something in our hands.
Amber was tipsier than I’d ever seen her, making faces and laughing loudly at whatever Mario was whispering in her ear. She handled it well and seemed to be having a spectacular time.
She grabbed my hand, and I followed her and Mario out into the mob on the dance floor. After four drinks that evening, I was starting to get ideas about what I could make happen. I danced with a very attractive guy with blond waves and a German T-shirt. Then he leered at me, his lip curling back in a kind of sneer, and I realized the faint urine smell might be coming from him. I smiled and waved goodbye, liking him a little again when he made a pouty face.
Glancing back, I had one last glimpse of Amber, giggling as Mario shimmied down in front of her. I left and got myself back into my hotel room, after stopping at a little shop to buy juice for the morning.
There was a message from Hank when I plopped down on my bed, cleaned up and in my pajamas.
Hank: Be good.
I took a picture of myself standing in front of my hotel room door, the number clearly displayed, with one hand down the front of my pajamas and my top mostly fallen off. My mouth hanging open and eyes crossed, I had an “I’m gettin’ it” expression on my face. Luckily, the hallway stayed clear. Back in my room I sent the photo.
Sally: Mission accomplished. So far. One night down and two to go. Not sure I’ll make it through tomorrow…
Hank: I’m working and you’re making me uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. You’ll pay for this.
Sally: Now I’m uncomfortable. What will you do, exactly?
Hank: Go to bed.
Sally: Well yeah, we’ll do that. What else?
