“So, how do you guys like Stanford?” she asked when there was a break in conversation. They gave her pretty generic answers, which almost made her wonder if they actually went to Stanford. Maybe, like Taylor, they were putting on a big act.
“What year are you?” she asked.
The guys exchanged quick glances, then Tony answered. “Seniors.”
DJ nodded. “What’s your major?”
Taylor laughed now. “What is this, DJ? The Spanish Inquisition?”
Tony laughed too. “Yeah, for a minute there I thought I was talking to my mom.”
Arden just smiled. “No big deal. I’m a GES major.”
“What’s that?” asked DJ.
“A glorified rock hound,” teased Tony.
“Geological and environmental sciences.”
DJ nodded. “Impressive.”
“He wants to save the planet,” said Tony.
“Nothing wrong with that,” said DJ.
“Okay, you guys,” said Taylor as the drinks arrived. “Time to lighten up.”
DJ felt slightly relieved to know that Arden seemed like a legitimate college student with a respectable major. But if he was a senior, he was at least five years older than she was, and that made her even more uncomfortable. She knew she wasn’t really doing anything wrong, but how would she feel if Conner got wind of the fact that she was here right now? On the other hand, she remembered what Taylor had said about snow bunnies in Montana. Of course, that was silly. Conner was on a family ski trip. She was in Las Vegas — unsupervised and with Taylor! Very different situations indeed.
Now the waiter was taking their orders, and Taylor was going all out by ordering lobster. “You guys don’t have to get the bill,” she told Tony lightly. “We can go Dutch.”
“Yes,” said DJ eagerly. “Dutch is fine.”
“No way,” said Tony. “This is our treat. A thank you for the great concert.”
So DJ went ahead and ordered a New York steak. Not to be spiteful, but because she was hungry.
“I like women who aren’t afraid to eat,” said Arden.
“I always thought models were more along the anorexic lines,” admitted Tony.
Taylor laughed. “A lot of them are. Not me. I think all things are good in moderation.”
DJ nearly choked on her water. Yeah, right. Moderation. That was a good one coming from Taylor.
Dinner turned out to be pretty good. Afterward, DJ made it clear that she was worn out. “Spending the night at O’Hare was pretty exhausting,” she told them. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll call it a night.”
“Not me,” said Taylor.
DJ frowned. Did this mean she needed to stick around and make sure that Taylor stayed out of trouble?
“It’s only ten,” pointed out Arden. “And this is Las Vegas, you know, the city that never sleeps.”
“You can sleep in the morning, DJ,” said Tony.
“Come on,” urged Taylor. “Can’t you just hang on until midnight?”
DJ considered this. “If I hang on until midnight, will you be ready to hang it up then?”
Taylor grinned. “Sure.”
Okay, there was no way to know if Taylor was being sincere or not, but DJ decided to hold her to it. “Fine, but at midnight, we’re done, okay?”
“Great,” said Arden. “This is our last night in Vegas, and we need to do it up right.”
“Yep,” said Tony sadly. “Gotta be home for the holidays.”
“I heard there’s a great band at House of Blues tonight,” suggested Arden.
“Sounds good to me,” said Taylor.
But when they got to the club, DJ noticed that there was a security guy checking for ID. “Hey,” she said to Taylor, “They’re carding.”
“So?” Taylor gave her a blank look.
“So . . . I don’t have ID.”
Now Taylor acted surprised, obviously an act for the guys. “Oh, crud, did you leave your wallet in the room, DJ?”
“I just — ”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll let you in.” Taylor smiled with confidence.
“They just card the ones who look too young,” said Tony. “You’ll be fine.”
But as it turned out, they were all carded. Taylor, with her fake ID, had no problem waltzing on past. And apparently the guys passed muster as well, because now they were all on the other side of the red velvet cord. Only DJ remained, and suddenly she just wanted to bolt.
“I don’t have ID,” she admitted, ready to spill the beans . . . and how sorry she was . . . and how she’d never try this again. But then Taylor smoothly stepped back over, and with a perfectly manicured nail, she tapped the security dude on the chest, smiling directly into his beady eyes as if he was the best thing she’d ever seen in uniform. Okay, it wasn’t really a uniform, just a stupid T-shirt with SECURITY across the front. Subtle.
“My friend left her ID upstairs in the penthouse,” she cooed to the stocky man. “But, please tell me you’re not going to make her go all the way up to the top floor to get it.”
“She’s with us,” said Arden, like he was a rock star. “Can’t you see she’s obviously over twenty-one?”
“Yeah,” added Tony. “She’s a professional model, you know, doesn’t she get some kind of respect for being a celebrity?” As if that had anything to do with breaking the law.
“Or should we take these girls to another club,” added Arden, “where they’ll be appreciated?”
The guard’s brows drew together. DJ was ready to make a run for it — and she knew she could be fast, even in heels — but she imagined the guard grabbing her and holding her until the cops showed up. Then, with everyone watching, they’d put her into cuffs and haul her downtown and throw her into the cooler, or whatever they called it.
What was a nice Christian girl doing in a place like this anyway?
13
JUST AS SHE WAS READY TO BOLT, the security guy glanced to the left and to the right, then tilted his head ever so slightly toward the club.
“Okay, just this once. But next time you bring your ID, pretty lady.” Then he winked at her as he unhooked the velvet cord that separated her from the others. And like an idiot, or maybe a lamb to the slaughter, she walked right on through. But her knees were shaking.
Taylor linked arms with DJ, grinning like she’d just won the first round. But DJ tossed Taylor a warning glance — she wanted her to know that she was ticked.
“You girls go grab that table that’s just emptying out over there, and we’ll get some drinks,” said Tony. “Cosmo for Taylor and . . . what do you want, DJ?”
“Iced tea,” she said stiffly.
At the table, Taylor turned to DJ. “See, no big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me,” said DJ, glancing around nervously. “You and I need to talk later.”
Taylor just shrugged. “Fine . . . later.”
DJ tried not to look as if she was seething as she silently sipped her iced tea. Fortunately, the music was loud enough to prohibit much conversation. And, to be fair, the blues band was pretty good. Still, DJ would be relieved when it was midnight. Not that she had any way to know, since she wasn’t wearing a watch and she’d left her cell phone upstairs. But she knew it couldn’t be too much longer. Hopefully, Taylor wouldn’t back out of her promise by then. If Taylor did, DJ decided she would simply go back to the suite without her. And if Eva happened to inquire, DJ would honestly tell her that Taylor was downstairs sipping cosmos at a club for grownups. Then Taylor could deal with it later! Let her clean up her own messes!
The suite was quiet when DJ let herself in. It was no big surprise that Taylor opted to remain with the guys at the club. Arden had offered to escort DJ to the suite, but, irked at the whole situation, DJ briskly told them all good night and headed out. Of course, she soon realized that an escort might’ve been appropriate as she walked through the casino, getting more attention than she wanted. But finally she was safe in the suite. Judging
by the room-service tray — a picked-over late dinner — and the black velvet pumps, DJ assumed that Eva was asleep in her room.
Consequently, DJ felt guilty. Was she letting Eva down by not doing a better job of babysitting her daughter? And yet, how could DJ possibly keep up, let alone keep track of someone like Taylor? Was it even possible? Once again, DJ questioned her sensibilities to get pulled into this scheme. What had she been thinking? As DJ got ready for bed, she realized how long she’d be stuck here. It was still several days until Christmas — not that she was looking forward to happy holidays in Vegas — but then she wasn’t even booked to go home until several days after that. During this time, Taylor would probably want to go clubbing, pick up guys, get wasted . . . cheerful things like that. What a totally skanky way to spend Christmas.
It was nearly one in the morning by the time DJ got into bed, and although she was exhausted, she was suddenly wide awake — and her mind was racing. What if something went wrong with Taylor tonight? What if Arden and Tony weren’t who they said they were? What if they got her drunk and . . . what if? What if? What if?
DJ got out of bed and went out into the living area. She stood in front of the expansive windows that looked out over the city lights and skyline. Clenching her fists in frustration, she looked out over the glittering city and felt so lonely that it hurt. Tears were burning in her eyes as she silently questioned God. What is going on? Why am I here in Las Vegas for Christmas? Why do I feel so totally miserable? Did I make a big mistake? Was Grandmother a fool for letting me come? Am I an idiot for trying to play by the rules? Does it really make any difference? Why is life so confusing? Why?
She wondered if there was any chance of getting her return flight changed, but figured it was probably hopeless to try to get a seat going anywhere this close to Christmas. Still, even the boring prospect of spending the holidays with her grandmother and the general seemed preferable to this form of torture.
“Help me, God,” she prayed quietly. “I feel so lost and alone. I don’t know why I’m here. I’m worried about Taylor. Please, help us both. Help me to make the best of this mess and help Taylor to be safe.” She prayed for a while longer, and, to her amazement, she began to feel calmer inside. That reassuring sense of peace returned. She knew that somehow God was going to strengthen her — somehow she would get through this.
She was just heading back to bed when she heard the door clicking. With a pounding heart, imagining it was a break-in, DJ ducked behind a partial wall. But to her relief — and surprise — it was only Taylor.
“You decided to come home?” asked DJ quietly.
“Oh! You scared me.” Taylor’s eyes were wide as she tossed her bag onto the sectional. “Why aren’t you asleep, Miss Party Pooper?”
“Because I was worried about you.”
Taylor shook her head with an exasperated expression. “That’s so ridiculous.”
Now DJ stepped closer to Taylor, pointing a finger into her face. “No, it’s not ridiculous. You’re out drinking with guys you don’t even know and — ”
“Shhh!” Taylor nodded to the bedroom. “Keep it down, will ya?”
DJ glared at Taylor, then instead of saying anything, she headed to the bedroom and climbed back into bed. She wanted to lecture Taylor, remind her of stories of other young women — like Natalie Holloway, the poor girl who’d been abducted in Aruba — naïve young women who put themselves in harm’s way, then paid the price. But what was the point? Taylor never listened. If she ever learned anything, it would probably be the hard way.
DJ could hear Taylor in the bathroom, and it sounded like she was turning on the shower. Well, at least she was safely home. And, as far DJ could see, she wasn’t even drunk. And she hadn’t really stayed out all that late. At least not long enough to get into serious trouble. Maybe that was something. Also, Tony and Arden said they’d be leaving tomorrow — driving back to California. And before long it would be Christmas — surely Taylor would slow it down for Christmas.
What if Taylor didn’t slow it down? What if she kept partying and clubbing? What if things totally spun out of control? What if she met new guys? What if she pushed the envelope even further? Suddenly DJ remembered Clara at the airport — it was like she could hear the old woman’s voice, saying how it really never helped matters to worry. “It’s better to pray, dear.”
DJ began to pray again. She prayed until she felt herself finally beginning to relax. Somehow she would get through this. God would give her strength. And maybe there was a reason Taylor had needed her. She had come to help.
“Oh, by the way,” said Taylor as she came out of the bathroom, rubbing lotion into her elbows. “I almost forgot to tell you . . .”
“Huh?” DJ asked sleepily.
“I wasn’t alone with those guys tonight.”
“What?”
“You know how you thought I was out by myself with Arden and Tony? Remember?”
“Huh?” DJ suppressed a yawn.
“I wasn’t alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Eliza was with me.”
DJ sat up in bed now, looking directly at Taylor. “What did you say?”
Taylor chuckled. “You should see your face, DJ. It looks like you saw a ghost.”
“What did you just say?” repeated DJ, feeling like she was in a bad dream.
“Your face, you look like — ”
“No! Before that.”
“You mean that Eliza is here?”
“Eliza Wilton?”
“Who else?”
“How is that even possible?”
“Well, they have these great big super jets that fly really fast through the air, and you buy a ticket and you pack — ”
“You know what I mean, Taylor. How is it possible that Eliza is here in Vegas? How?”
“I invited her.”
DJ jumped out of bed, suddenly wide awake and staring at Taylor in shock. “You invited Eliza here?”
“Ooh, now you sound like my jealous lover.”
DJ shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around this. It made absolutely no sense. “You’re just jerking my chain around, aren’t you? Trying to get back at me for ditching you with the guys tonight, right?”
“Not at all. It actually worked out rather well.” She chuckled. “Tony and Arden were quite impressed. One beautiful babe walks out, and another walks in. Presto-change-o.”
“Huh?” DJ slumped back onto the bed. She was too tired, and her brain was fuzzy. Suddenly she wondered which one of them had really been drinking tonight.
Taylor laughed. “I’m sorry, DJ. Let me cut to the chase.”
“Please, do.”
“That day you were stuck in O’Hare, I felt desperate. I thought maybe you weren’t going to make it at all. And I was really lonely. And, in desperation, I called Eliza.”
“You called Eliza? On purpose?”
“I just wanted to hear what she was up to. And, well, I’d had a few drinks . . . and she told me she was bored in Kentucky, and in a moment of weakness I asked her if she wanted to come out here for a quick visit.”
“How is that even possible? Isn’t she on her way to France by now?”
“Not for two whole days. She arranged a practically direct flight out of Vegas and will arrive in Paris early on Christmas morning.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah . . .” Taylor looked a little uneasy, like maybe she could even see how crazy this seemed. “I was a little surprised when she called to confirm this.”
“And that was when?”
“Yesterday.”
“But you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
“What made you think I’d be upset?”
Taylor held out her hands. “Look at you.”
DJ pressed her lips together. “I’m not upset. Just a little confused. Like when did you and Eliza become such great friends?”
“We’re not.”
“She has her own room, of course.”
“Of course.”
“And it’s because of Eliza that we called it an early night. She was tired from flying.”
“Oh, that’s so reassuring.”
“But we have big plans for tomorrow.”
“Right.”
“Arden was pretty into her.” Taylor frowned. “You don’t mind, do you? I mean, Arden really liked you, but you kind of gave him the slip.”
“Of course, I don’t mind.” DJ wondered how much crazier this could get. This whole ordeal reminded her of Alice going through the looking glass — everything was unreal. “What difference does it make anyway?” she asked. “I thought Arden and Tony were leaving tomorrow.”
“Change of plans.”
“It figures.”
“They’re driving home, so they can hang on a little longer if they want.” Taylor chuckled. “And they want.”
“Oh, hooray.” DJ picked up her pillow and gave it a hard punch, and then another. Why had she come here? Why had she allowed Taylor to trick her . . . again?
“We’re going to have another cabana party tomorrow.”
“Oh, I can hardly wait.” DJ rolled her eyes.
“The weather is supposed to be really good.”
“Whoop-tee-doo.” DJ flopped back on her bed.
“Don’t be mad, DJ.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s just two days.”
DJ sat up suddenly. “Hey, maybe I can get a flight out of here and — ”
“Don’t do that,” said Taylor. “Eliza will be gone soon.”
DJ didn’t say anything.
Lost in Las Vegas Page 10
