#2 Lesbians in Vegas

Chapter 1

"God bless America." Eva jiggled her melting ice cubes in a glass of soda. "Where a woman can gamble away her paycheck while getting lung cancer."

A pen whisked across an old-fashioned clipboard as Kathryn Alison, Eva's best friend of nearly fifteen years, wrote something on a print-out. Ms. Alison's face was blocked by a respirator that helped her survive the smokey ambiance of the casino floor, but her darkened eyes broadcasted exactly what she was thinking as they bored a hole into the bridge of Eva's nose. "Don't you mean ‘God bless Vegas'?"

Eva chucked the last of her watery diet soda down her throat and pulled the lever on the slot. As happy sounds exploded from the machine and bright lights flashed before her, Eva pumped her fist into the air and said, "Biiiiig money! Come on, big money!"

Kathryn rolled her eyes. Her decadent lashes fluttered beneath blond bangs that became frizzier in the dry casino air.

"You've got more money than me, and you're over here rooting for ‘big money.'"

"Come on, bay-bee." Eva's dance of good vibes continued after her most recent defeat. Nothing another quarter and a pull of the lever couldn't solve. "Gimme that dopamine, bay-bee."

"Why am I standing here in this smoke-filled hell when I could be up in my room pretending to be a professional?"

"Because you think I'm cute."

"I'm serious." Kathryn loomed before the white screen flashing different pieces of fruit in Eva's completely exposed face. After a while, you don't smell the cigarettes anymore! That was a lie. Eva still smelled the cigarettes. She simply didn't care. "If you don't have any ideas for me, I'm going upstairs. See you at dinner, I guess. We've still got reservations across the street."

Before she walked away in a huff, Eva grabbed her friend by the wrist and pulled her back. "Not like that. You're dressed sooo fancy that people will think you're some rich bitch they can hit up for buffet money."

"I am, though."

"You've gotta be super cas like me." Eva referenced her fitted VIVA LAS VEGAS T-shirt and the pair of worn jeans that barely brought attention to the fact she was six and a half feet tall with natural blond hair and diamond studs in her ears. Don't worry, Kathryn, the diamonds were manufactured in a lab, I swear! Eva was in the presence of America's guiltiest billionaire, the woman whose family made money faster than she could donate it. Only an Alison could dedicate her life to charity work and still be mega-rich. Go figure. Eva came from extreme wealth, but her father and grandfather had squandered enough of it on bad investments – and, surprise, gambling – that she only competed with Kathryn in the wealth department on paper. Or maybe that was Eva's excuse for not dedicating her own life to charity work like Kathryn.

"What the hell is on your feet?"

Eva glanced down at the roll-on shoes she had pumped out of a vending machine. "Like I said. Super cas."

"Nothing about you is ‘cas.' You look like a fucking supermodel."

Eva pulled the lever again. "And you don't?"

"You do it so effortlessly."

"You can say I'm tall and thin." Another dud. At this rate, I'm going to run out of quarters. How would Eva survive? "As for ideas… come on, Kath." One of the last few quarters in Eva's pocket popped into the slot. The lights and sounds were ready to go again. "What are you going to get this last minute? Besides everything? It's Vegas."

"I have a budget I must maintain. Doesn't exactly look good to donate all the proceeds to charity if I spent as much money on the prepackaged dates."

"There are like fifty shows going on in this town at any given moment."

"Sure, and I have secured front-row seats to most of them. Come on. I need more."

"Kaaaath." With a groan rumbling through her body, Eva plopped back against her plastic seat and ignored the tourist sitting at the machine next to hers. "Helicopter tours."

"Got ‘em."

"Spa days."

"Yes."

Eva's lashes fluttered at the speed of light as exasperation brought every muscle in her body deeper into the chair. Her knee knocked into the lever and made lemons and oranges dance.

"Escape rooms."

"Done."

"Mafia museum. Neon sign cemetery."

"Got it, and yes. Those are for the lower levels, though."

"That silly axe-throwing thing."

Blue eyes widened as Kathryn hastily wrote that down. "What is that?"

"Oh, man, you wait." Eva gave up on her quarter slots now that they had lost their luster. "Who is this money going to again? War refugees? Cute animals? Medical research?"

"That one."

"Which one?"

"Alzheimer's research."

"Fun! Nothing says exciting auction like mentioning dementia every five minutes!"

"What do you want from me, Eva? Even rich people get dementia. It's one of the few things they'll come together and donate millions toward."

"Heaven forbid we get people some housing or food in their stomachs."

"You're preaching to the choir."

A sigh knocked Eva out of her chair. She left the empty glass behind as she walked with Kathryn through the casino and toward the elevators.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Kathryn said while they waited for their lift.

Arms crossed and stance cocked away from her friend, Eva asked. "How much money?"

Kathryn snorted. "Right idea, wrong question."

"I've already cut a check. So has my wife. Hell, I slapped a blank check in front of Henry, and he signed it without asking because the idiot trusts me. Figuratively. I know nobody's written an actual check in ten years." Eva honestly couldn't remember the last time she had a checkbook on her person. If ever? Am I gaslighting myself if I'm convinced it happened once?

The elevator doors opened, letting off a group of college students in hoodies and baggy pants. Eva and Kathryn waited for them to clear out before getting on. They were both heading to the second highest floor, their suites a few doors down from each other.

Only when the doors closed and they were stuck with the muzak on the speakers did Kathryn explain what she wanted.

"At the auction tomorrow," she began, eyes glued to the numbers lit up above them, "I need you to bid on Ian."

Eva should have expected it was something silly like that. "What? Worried some straight hottie will bag him and make you jealous?"

"I'd feel better if one of his many exes or my embittered rivals didn't make a move. Even in the name of charity."

"You don't actually think that man would cheat on you, right? He's still obsessed with you all these years later. For God's sake, he got you to put a ring on it."

"Don't remind me. I still pretend I'm not married."

"Fine. Tell me how much I'm ghost-bidding on your behalf."

"Ghost-bid? No, no, this is your own money."

"Whaaat? No. I wasn't going to bid on anyone, because the whole thing's silly." Eva cleared her throat. "Nadia's bidding. Do you want me to have her bid on Ian? I doubt she'd care about my opinion. She'll do what she wants, as usual."

"Nadia can afford it?"

Eva laughed. "She's been with me for how long? After we made it two years married, she was ‘entitled' to a share of the Warren Family Allowance. Between how much she gets for free and her salary working for Ethan Cole, Nadia's been looking for some charities to donate to. Told her she should use this as an opportunity to have a fake date with someone. Man, woman, I don't care… but I have a feeling she's not interested in taking your husband out for a show and axe throwing. Or whatever."

"Why not? What's wrong with my husband?"

"No offense, Kat, but she's way more likely to go after someone who will make me jealous. Ian will not make me…" Eva almost couldn't say it without sputtering in more laughter. "Jealous."

"Right. Well…" Kathryn was the first to step out of the elevator when they reached their floor. After the raucous voices and dinging bells of the casino floor, this one in the residential tower was almost too quiet for Eva, who liked her life somewhere in between "crazy loud" and "pin-drop quiet." Yet she was also used to the kind of silence so much money afforded when traveling to resort destinations like Vegas. "See you at dinner. Remember, seven."

Eva finger-gunned her friend before pulling her room key out of her pocket. Unlike Kathryn, who reserved a suite with its own separate office for her to operate the charity auction from, Eva and Nadia had come so last-minute that their room was "standard." Aside from the breathtaking view of the Strip and the Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, anyway.

Plus a few other things that Nadia chided her wife about whenever Eva mentioned how "small" and "quaint" their room was.

Nadia was already in there now, propped up on the king-sized bed while the TV played a movie at low volume. At first, Eva thought her wife was watching the movie until she realized Nadia's phone was glued to her head.

"Uh-huh," Nadia said, sounding like it wasn't the first time in the past minute. She barely acknowledged Eva as she flopped down on the bed. "Couldn't you… hang on. Eva just walked in and smells like an ashtray."

Eva wafted the scent of her hair up toward Nadia, who blanched. "That's Vegas, baby."

She took the hint, though. After stripping her clothes she would hop in the shower for a quick rinse and hope that did the trick. Yet as she pushed herself off the bed and pulled her shirt over her head, she saw Nadia once again adopt a concerned countenance.

"Tell him that you're not having McDonald's for dinner. How is it any different than at the office? No, I can't tell him! He's my boss. You're his wife. That's how it works, Jas."

Rolling her eyes, Eva finished taking off her clothes. She attempted to catch her wife's attention before hopping in the shower, but by then, Nadia had buried herself between both pillows and sighed so loudly that Eva was afraid to ask – otherwise, they might end up telling Kathryn and Ian that dinner was at the nearest McDonald's on the Strip.

Honestly, could be fun. Unlike her wife, Eva had not grown up eating fast food when Mom was pressed for time, or the kids were in the backseat asking for Mickey D's for dinner. Fast food for Henry and me was a bistro. For how often Isabella Warren complained about the food being "nothing but reheated trash," Eva's perception of what was actual fast food was completely skewed by the time she first went with a group of girls on her soccer team to grab fries and a Diet Coke after practice. I'm still bloated.

Bloated, but not defeated.

"Hey! Look at me!" Eva hissed from around the corner leading into the bathroom. The moment Nadia looked up from her nails, Eva shook her naked tits before leaping toward the shower. She had no idea what Nadia thought about it, and she couldn't be more content.