What Happens In Vegas

by Anders, Tarrah

  What Happens In Vegas

  Tarrah Anders

  COPYRIGHT © 2020– TARRAH ANDERS

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.

  Tarrah Anders | Tarrah Anders, LLC Tarrah.anders@gmail.com |www.tarrahanders.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Formatting: Tarrah Anders, LLC

  Cover: Tarrah Anders, LLC

  Ordering Information: What Happens in Vegas

  ASIN: B087L9NZ97 | ISBN: 9798644312184

  Sometimes, a night in Vegas will change your life.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Also by Tarrah Anders

  Dear Friends,

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  “I promise to ride you like the unicorn that you are, until our dying day,” I say looking up at the gorgeous man standing in a tuxedo in front of me. I push up the tiara that was placed on my head and grin.

  “And I promise to brush your hair at night, every night.” He returns bopping me on the tip of my nose.

  I hiccup and giggle like a school-girl as I teeter back and forth on my feet from the slight motion.

  I lean up on my tiptoes and we kiss, annoying Elvis standing in front of us for the millionth time since our ceremony began, since every few moments we lean into one another and interrupt what should be a ten-minute ceremony. It’s been thirty minutes, and despite there are two Elvis’s talking, I can see slight irritation.

  “You two will have plenty of time to smooch, but dare I say that I get you two jailbirds hitched?” Elvis says with a roll of his eyes. “Do you two have any more vows that you would like to say to one another?”

  “Yes,” the gorgeous man in front of me says to Elvis and then returns his glazed gaze to me. “I promise to make sure that you have your endless supply of calendars, so that way you never miss a thing, or an important date,” he smiles proudly.

  A collective ‘Aww’ from the peanut gallery behind us draws my attention away from my husband to be for a split second.

  He’s dashing, he looks like he knows what he’s doing in all the ways that would matter, and those ways would be the bedroom, at least that’s all I’m thinking right now.

  And while I may be seeing double right now, I can definitely tell that he’s a looker.

  “Oh, you listened,” I gush.

  I lean up and kiss him chastely on the lips and pull back when I hear the clearing of the throat.

  “Alright, Ms. Peyton, do you take this hunka-hunka burning love to be yours?”

  “Sure as fuck, I do.” I throw my free hand in the air and pump it. Which encourages more hoots and hollers from our witnesses.

  Elvis turns to my handsome groom who is swaying on his own two feet, with a large smile on his face.

  “And, Mr. Max, do you take this lady to be your forever Rockabilly princess?”

  “Totally do,” Mr. Max nods his head.

  “And by the power invested in me by the city of Las Vegas and Graceland, I now pronounce you husband and wife, nuhuh-uh-huh!” Elvis does a little shimmy of his hips and his arms spread out in the air. “You may now finally pucker up.”

  I lean in and nearly fall into Mr. Max, when we kiss and seal our marriage.

  Cheers from the peanut gallery erupt as the kiss turns into a fit of giggles.

  Chapter One

  “This one time in Vegas, I had drinks with Elvis, RuPaul, Tina Turner and Elton John…”

  PEYTON

  If I open my eyes, that means the brightness of the room will burn my retinas and I will be blind. I can’t afford to be blind. It sounds expensive, and frankly, I don’t have the extra money to blind-proof my apartment. I roll onto my back and brush my hair out of my face. The motion itself rattles my head and is painful, so much so, that I want to sink deeper into the mattress. But even that sounds like too much work, and I really don’t have the energy. I wrap my arms around my body and touch a whole lot of skin.

  Am I naked?

  Why am I naked?

  I take a deep breath and slowly open my eyes, scan the room and note that this is not my room. I move onto my side and look to the side of the bed, where I expect to see the other bed with my roommate passed out in it. Except, that’s far from what I see. The floor is a different color, with fancy patterns and not of multi-colored ‘let’s hide any stains’, type of carpet that my room has. This floor is clean and has much more space than mine, and based on the floor to ceiling windows’ view, is a much better one, whereas the view from the front window of our room is another small hotel. Everything is different.

  I slowly push myself to sit up in the bed and note the bed that I’m in is surrounded by windows.

  Where am I?

  Again, why am I naked?

  I pull up the covers and my fingers graze over something on my hand. I pause hoping that it’s not what I think it is and I look down as my heart skips a beat and my mouth goes dry.

  There is a silver band with a large single diamond on my ring finger sparkling at me. I hold my hand up and turn it, then look at the object weighting my finger again. This can’t be.

  What the ever-loving hell happened last night?

  I look beside me as if in slow-motion and that’s when I see him.

  Who is he? Is this his room? What the hell happened?

  A man sleeps, with his back to me. His dark brown hair is disheveled from sleep and I’m pretty sure that he’s just as naked as I am.

  I can’t see any defining features of him, but he doesn’t have a hairy back, and it looks like he’s got a strong back. The muscles move as he breathes, and I can tell that as I lower my eyes to the lower half of his back, that he’s not wearing any clothing either.

  Well, that’s a win for me, that I didn’t hook up with a hairy dude. I could have chosen a beast of a man, but from the looks of him, he’s not part animal and part man. But seriously, who is he and was whatever we did last night good?

  Another bonus is that this room is fantastic, and this bed is so nice that I almost don’t want to get out.

  But whatever happened last night and whatever this is… cannot be.

  I cannot be married to a complete stranger.

  In fear of waking the slumbering stranger beside me, I slink out of the soft sheets and tiptoe across the room. I see the white-lace dress that I wore last night on the floor, with my panties and both of my h
eels.

  As quiet as can be, I look around the room. It’s a very nice room.

  I wish that I could remember last night, but the last thing I remember was my friends telling me that I wouldn’t talk to the attractive man in the tux. I remember dancing with him, drinking with him, and then riding in a limo, just the two of us. This must be the guy.

  I look over to the bed, where he’s sleeping.

  If I remember correctly, he is extremely attractive. He has chiseled features, with bright turquoise eyes and a devilish smile. The tux that he wore last night, wore him, he didn’t wear it. He filled it out perfectly and even though I wondered why he was wearing a tux, when all his friends weren’t, he looked to be comfortable in his skin enough to not give a crap.

  A chill runs through my body at a memory of the night. Kissing on the dance floor and his strong hands holding me against him. I shake my head, spot my clutch on a table, grab it quietly to not wake the slumbering man in the bed, then turn to leave the room.

  With one last glance back to him, taking in the scene and wondering about what the hell happened last night, I slowly turn the knob and exit.

  Walking down the long hotel hallway, I make my way to the elevator Once inside, I take a deep breath and lean my head back against the wall.

  Where usually the walk of shame would be an embarrassing thing, in Vegas—you wouldn’t know whether or not the person walking down the street had spent the night in the arms of another, playing the slots, or dancing all night long. I move across the lobby in last nights’ dress and out to the sidewalk of the hotel.

  I open my clutch and sigh heavily when I remember that my cell phone is dead and instead I walk up to the check-in counter, I ask if I can get a cab and soon I am on my way back to the hotel room that I’m sharing with my girlfriends off of the main strip and far from where I am standing.

  I take my key out of my handbag and enter in the room, ready for a barrage of questions and loaded with my own as well.

  Quinn, my roommate is sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. She has her phone in one hand and coffee in the other.

  “About damn time you showed up, what the heck happened to you last night?” she asks loudly, waking up Hanna who bolts up in the bed we were previously sharing.

  “That’s the same damn question that I have but as you can tell, I was out all night. I think you should pay up now, I went through with talking to the super-hot guy, I think I actually did more than talk to him though.”

  “I’d say. Last night, it was like you were under some spell, you two were in your own little world. Not us or his friends could separate you guys,” she laughs.

  “So, you guys hooked up?” Hanna sits up in the bed asking.

  I laugh awkwardly, avoiding their gazes while I remove my heels then dig through my suitcase to change into a tank top and shorts and cast aside the dress which promptly landed me a husband.

  “Well, Pey?” Hanna pushes, leaning forward and laying on her stomach with her chin fitted in her palm.

  “We totally hooked up and I’m sure it was wonderful. If only I could remember any of it,” I say pushing my hair off my forehead and out of my eyes.

  “Wait a second!” Quinn sets her coffee cup down on the table beside her, stands then rushes to me and grabs my hand. “Shut the fucking front door, what the fuck is that?”

  She’s staring down at the rock on my ring finger. I pull my hand behind my back, out of sight and try to twist the band off of my finger, but I’m too slow.

  Fuck! I forgot to take it off!

  “What? What is it? Let me see?” Hanna stumbles out of bed and gets tangled in the blankets. Before almost falling flat on her face, she regains her balance, then makes her way to stand with Quinn staring at the large rock casting a shadow on my hand.

  “Did you get married?” Quinn asks standing back to give me the once over as if the ring that she saw on my finger changed the way that I looked.

  “I honestly couldn’t tell you,” I offer casting a glance toward the floor.

  “What do you mean?” Quinn places her hand on her hip.

  “I mean that I don’t remember what happened after a point in the night, then I woke up, and now I’m here.” I lift my shoulders and offer her a small smile.

  I twist the ring off of my finger and look at it. It’s not a fake ring, by any means. It has a good weight to it, and when the light hits it, a prism of colors cascade along the wall. I pocket the ring for now, and make a mental note to figure out what to do with it later.

  “And you guys hooked up? I mean obviously, you spent the night with him and your hair looks like a rat slept in it. You totally have fuck me hair.” Quinn says with a smirk.

  “Well, I’m pretty damn sure that he wrecked my vagina because I’m typically not this sore without a little—or should I say a whole lot of action.” I say in a sigh.

  “Like wrecked as in an hour at spin class or like he sexed you up all night?” Hanna giggles.

  “Well, my head feels like I’ve been in an accident and my lady bits feels like they took a good pounding.”

  Quinn nods her head in understanding, “So like Rhonda Rousey style, that’s awesome. It’s been awhile since I’ve been slammed like that.”

  I run my hand over my forehead and take a deep breath.

  “What do I do? I mean I’m supposedly married to some random guy, where the hell were you guys last night? How did I end up alone with him, I could have been killed!” I look between my two friends as I sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Well, you were the one who kind of ditched us. We went to go get drinks and you insisted to stay sitting on his lap, then when we returned, all of you guys were gone.”

  “That doesn’t sound like me,” I shake my head.

  “We tried calling you a billion times, but it went straight to voicemail. We always tell you that you need to have a full charge if we go out, and yet you never listen.” Hanna shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest, pointing out to me a common occurrence for when we go places.

  “So, what do I do now? I’m married, to a complete stranger.” I throw myself back on the bed in frustration.

  “Well, you know how the saying goes,” Quinn starts.

  I lean up on my elbows and look at her with a sigh. “What saying?” I ask.

  “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!” Quinn and Hanna say in unison.

  MAXWELL

  My brain is rattling in my head. My body hurts and I feel like something shit in my mouth.

  It’s been quite a while since I’ve let loose like that. But once the guys and I had a few drinks under our belt, I rolled up my sleeves, unbuttoned the top button of my dress-shirt, and untied my bow-tie.

  I drank too much and don’t really remember getting back to my room. I have very faint memories of last night. I faintly remember making-out with a woman, and that same woman riding in the back of our limo, and her here in bed with me. But there was no woman here in bed with me when I woke up and no signs of a woman being here that I wonder if part of these so-called memories are a dream, or if I really spent the night with some mystery woman.

  If it wasn’t for the constant chirping from my phone in my pants pocket from the floor, I would have missed my plane.

  Begrudgingly, I have an Uber pick me up and drop me off at the airport quickly as I’m moving through the motions, I get to my gate just as they’re boarding my group number.

  I scan my ticket and head down the boarding bridge.

  All I want to do is fall back asleep, which I plan to do once my ass gets into a seat. I take the first available seat that I can find, which is a fucking middle seat and I’m silently cursing my assistant for not booking me a flight with first class seating.

  I lean my head back against the seat and then close my eyes.

  Once we’re in the skies, I recline as soon as allowed and that’s the last I remember before landing in Los Angeles.

  * * *

  “Thank yo
u for agreeing to meet with us on a Sunday, Mr. Addison,” the senior associate of Bean, MacMilliam and Singer leans forward to shake my hand in the lobby of their building.

  I offer him a weak smile and pull off my shades.

  “My pleasure, I was traveling and thought that this was a perfect detour on the way home, so, how can I be of assistance?” I ask.

  “I believe the partners will have all the details. This project wouldn’t be one of my case files. I’ll be bringing you up to the conference room and you will have all the information there,” he explains.

  Wordlessly, we ride the elevator up to another floor and he guides me down a long hallway to a glass room where there are four gentlemen sitting at one end of a large rectangular table. The men stand up and eagerly wait for my approach with their hands poised for me to take it in mine. I shake their hands and introductions are made promptly before sitting.

  “Thank you for consulting on this merger with us. We have heard amazing things about what you can do and have done for other companies and we hope that you are able to assist us in the same manner.”

  I thrive on the high of taking two companies and making them one. I’ve had plenty of experience in the field of finance and business that I’ve had success rates that no one in the Pacific Northwest has been able to top. Business and gambling are one and the same to me.

  When I’m looking for a new venture to take on, I look at what I can do to maximize whatever wealth potential I can get out of a business that makes the rolling of the two companies together easy.

  I review the documents and provide my professional opinion in detail over the next few hours before I’m back at the airport and heading home to Seattle.