Chasing Rainbows - Part Eight

Chapter Eight

                “So THIS is what you call the Vegas Experience?”

Jacob looked up at Emma who was stood in front of his reclining seat in the back of the limo he’d hired, her head and shoulders out of the sunroof, the wind blowing her hair dramatically, whipping it around her face.

                “Nope this is merely one of many parts!” he called back, his voice fighting over the music and the loud sounds of the road. Every car was honking the blonde hottie who was dancing out of the top of the car. And she was waving enthusiastically back to everyone, even the gangs of leering men who were squeezed into cabs, who really weren’t deserving of her attention. But he’d found out that she did everything enthusiastically and without restriction. And they’d fitted in SO much since leaving the poker game.

Riding the strip at night was on his list of essential things to do in Vegas, a hastily constructed group of things that was created as soon as he realised it was her first time in the city. Earlier the list had seen them visit the Mandalay Bay Shark Reef Aquarium, an amazing place. It was one of Jacob’s favourite places, and he had taken her hand to drag her through the building until they were on the walkways that passed under the huge deep and sparsely illuminated aquariums.

He gave a running commentary, almost by memory of all the major fish.  They’d been there for a good while before he realised that Emma was shaking with fear. She admitted then to an almost phobia of deep water, and even the sting rays terrified her - after Steve Irwin of course! But as they left, she’d admitted this was close to becoming one of the most exciting days of her life.  Despite that blip!

Next Jacob dragged her on a visit to see an Elvis Impersonator on Fremont, with his Asian appearance he really didn’t look like Elvis, but he had the hair, the rhinestone jumpsuit, and an amazing voice. The whole place was kitsch, full of people looking for a break from the chaos of the strip, and it replaced the previous places as her favourite part of the evening.  As ‘Elvis’ sang, the whole place danced and sang, Jacob had joined in with the excitement, and whizzed her around in a dance to Burning Love before they’d disappeared to yet another item on their whistle stop agenda! The trip up the strip!

Once this car ride ended he was trying to decide whether to take her to paddle in the Bellagio fountain, and evading  the security guards, something he’d never managed to do in all his rebellious years, but was desperate to. Or, and this was his particular favourite - a shot in everyone of the eight bars in New York New York. He’d intended to take her on the open top bus that travelled up and down this ultimate street, but the timing was wrong, and they were in a bit of a rush, and with half a million dollars in his pocket, and for the first time in ages, money was no object, so they had plush, though slightly tacky limousine, complete with strobe light and bubble machine in the back, and enough champagne to serve ten!

Jacob watched her dance intently, the limo driver was booming nineties tunes and Emma had been dancing since the car had started. Now as she swung her arms and wriggled her hips to Living La Vida Loca, all the while belting out the lyrics, he couldn’t help but smile! Where had she been all his life?

Could they fit the paddle AND the tequila bar crawl in? He looked at his watch, it was after three am! Vegas was still coming alive. So throwing caution to the wind, he stood beside her and bumped his hips against hers as he slid through the sunroof with her. Singing and swaying together, Emma called out, “more, more, more!” And the driver obliged, turning around and cruising back along that strip of road.

Finally the car stopped outside New York New York, and the sudden stop sent Emma catapulting across the back seat, and right into Jacob’s arms. They’d come in from the sunroof a few minutes earlier, and were talking, in a “getting drunker by the moment” manner. They liked the same films, comedies of course, the darker the better, and both instantly named Arrested Development as their favourite TV show, though Emma caused Jacob to collapse into bursts of hysterical laughter as she did a monologue of debate between it and her favourite daytime TV show of Judge Judy before finally deciding on the comedy as her number one.

 Jacob had just looked at her and said, “I take it ALL back! We have nothing in common!” Before she was catapulted into him.

                “Wasn’t this where we were earlier?” He asked, pulling her close, his nose touching hers. He could barely think for the fuzz of alcohol, the adrenaline of the evening, and the sensation of Emma sat in his lap.

When she smiled everything turned even fuzzier, and he pulled her back against him in the seat. And then his lips met hers.

Emma felt as though there was a ten ton weight settled on the centre of her head. The bed was luxurious, and she was glad to feel that she had at least made it back. Her last memory...the pain was too great to think clearly, but she remembered the limo...and then tequila... She never had hangovers, not like this, but then she couldn’t even remember what time they’d stopped drinking. And they’d started early evening.  Groaning she rolled onto her side, unable to lift an eyelash, let alone anything else.

On her side her head hurt less. She didn’t want to think about what today would bring, it was their final day in Vegas, their flight home was later that evening. She had to pack...and there was shopping on Eve’s schedule.

She groaned again, this was definitely the wrong thing to have done, and she acknowledged that she was completely to blame. She could only hope that the others felt as rough as she did. Maybe if they didn’t they’d go and leave her? To die!

Emma felt Isobel move next to her, this was the forth night they’d shared the huge double bed, and it had meant the worst sleep she’d had in ages, she was hardly used to sharing a bed with someone. It was the copious, almost drugging level of alcohol that had made her sleep today. Saying that she had no idea what time it was...or what time she had gone to bed. But it was light, tears trickled out of her lids every time her closed eyes moved to her right - the window, light equalled head shattering pain, so she rolled her head so she was almost face down in the pillows. It was quiet, maybe she’d try to sleep again. She needed energy, zest...anything.

But it was no good. She needed medication. She’d packed a smorgasbord of pain killers in anticipation of a killer hangover, though she always imagined it would be the bride to be suffering, not her.

It took five attempts to part her eye lashes, but the flash of pain that accompanied the blinding light was like a red hot poker piercing her eyeball. She had groaned more times since ‘waking’ than she had in the rest of her adult life, but it was automatic. She had no control over it.

Taking a deep and steadying breath, she dragged open an eye then froze. Their suite, her and Isobel’s was huge, and decorated in a sage green colour. This bedroom was different...the layout, the colour, everything.  Suddenly panic took over and pushed her headache to the back burner. Rolling in bed, she had the stark realisation that she was completely naked. Turning onto her other side, she pulled the duvet back from the mound of a person lying beside her, and rather than Isobel’s long, dark hair, she encountered a mop of unruly blonde hair, a tanned face and light stubble covering a strong jaw.

Jacob.

Emma gasped; she had NO memory of coming here with him. Lifting the duvet a little more she was rewarded with even more tanned flesh, naked flesh, they were both naked!

Emma had never had a one night stand, not like this with a complete stranger. It wasn’t her way. And despite spending SO much time together over the last thirty six hours, they were strangers. But it seemed that the wine, champagne and far too many random shots had all contributed to her amnesiac liaison.  She’d got on with Jacob, they had had SO much fun the previous evening, but she was flying home, she’d not see him again. Suddenly she needed to be out of there, away from the shame of him waking and her needing to discuss what she was mortified to admit she couldn’t remember.

Her dress and bra were near the bed, so she pulled them on, moving into the lounge - this suite was HUGE, she found the Louboutin shoes...still divine, and her bag. Rooting inside she found a hairbrush, and a hair tie, she was able to make herself a little more respectable. She was glad of the distraction to stop her thinking, dwelling and analysing all that she’d discovered in the last ten minutes.

Emma gave up on the search for her knickers, she was only hoping that they had made it to the bin, rather than being attached to a lampshade in one of the rooms, and made for the door. It was then that she realised that it was ten fifteen. The girls must be going crazy with worry. Opening the door, she searched for her purse, but instead found a piece of pristinely folded paper, with her name printed neatly on it. Stopping mid step, she opened it was a weird sense of foreboding.

Then the hangover came back with a vengeance as the words on the form in her hand all blended into one. Her head throbbed and she fought for air, desperately trying not to wake the man behind her. She looked down in dismay, she could ignore the words printed neatly on the form in her right hand, that was witnessed by Elvis, but her left hand bore the true souvenir of the last step of Jacob’s guided tour of Vegas, ‘The Little Chapel’. A gold ring.

She was married.

To Jacob!