Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,21
I won’t tell anyone.”
His mouth hooked in a grin and his eyes flicked up and down. “Me neither.”
Well thank goodness for that.
He shut the rear door and opened the passenger door for me. I thanked him, idly hoping I’d actually gotten all the smeared mascara off my face. It was so bright out here in the daylight.
I took a deep breath and smoothed out my dress while he got in and started the car.
“Where to?”
“Four Seasons.”
He nodded.
“So… sorry that I have to ask this, but this morning can’t get any more humiliating than it already is, so why not? You were driving us around last night?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why are you still here? Did you actually wait out there all night?”
He pulled out of the hotel and into traffic. “Yeah, but I don’t mind. Mr. Cox pays very well.”
“Oh.” I fiddled with my purse. “That’s good. Do you, um… Can you tell me where we went?”
He had the decency not to laugh at me. “I picked your party up outside Mandalay Bay.”
“That’s familiar.”
“You made a couple of stops on the Strip. Then T-Mobile Arena.”
“Right, the MMA thing.”
“Afterward, I took you to the Regional Justice Center. Then back to the Strip. I’m afraid I can’t tell you everywhere you went. I dropped you off at the Venetian and later picked you up at Circus Circus to take you to the Bellagio.”
Wait, the Regional Justice Center? Why would we have gone there?
Uh-oh.
Back up, Sophie. There was something before that. “You said you took my party. We were with a bunch of people, weren’t we?”
“Yes, you were. Until the end of the evening when I took you to the Bellagio. That was just you and Mr. Cox.”
I nodded, still trying to put the pieces together. I remembered winning at Mandalay Bay. Then Drake Meadows, the lead singer for Monkey Rum, had showed up with his fiancée, an Instagram model named Marika. Drake was a legit rock star, and Cox had known him. They’d said it was their wedding day and invited us to come celebrate with them. That was how we’d wound up with a group of people in a limo, leaving Mandalay Bay.
Maybe that was why we’d gone to the Regional Justice Center. To get their marriage license.
Except—
“Here we are,” he said, and I realized we’d stopped outside the hotel. He got out and came around to open the door for me.
“Thank you so much.” I opened my purse and rooted around for a tip.
“Ma’am, there’s no need,” he said. “That’s been taken care of.”
“Oh.” I met his eyes and smiled, feeling sheepish again. “Thanks for being so nice and not judging me too much.”
He smiled back. “Don’t worry. This is Vegas. Do you need me to wait?”
“No, you should probably go back to the Bellagio for Cox. I mean, Mr. Cox.”
“All right. Enjoy the rest of your visit.”
“Thank you.”
Well, at least the ride of shame hadn’t been too terrible.
A very alarming thought tried to push its way to the front of my mind—Regional Justice Center?—but I firmly pushed it back. I was mortified, exhausted, hungover, and hungry. I needed to process last night in bite-sized pieces.
But first, I needed a shower, and I had just enough time before I was supposed to meet the girls for brunch. I’d go back to my room—my actual room in the right hotel—and get cleaned up. Regular clothes would help, too.
And then I’d see if I could figure out how big of a mess I’d made.
The shower helped a little, as did normal clothes. In my pink top and fitted jeans, I was no longer Vegas Vixen Sophie. Just regular Sophie. My hair was even driving me crazy—like usual—the curls refusing to behave themselves.
It was good to feel like myself again. Although I was still jittery, too many unanswered questions flitting through my mind.
And of course, being me, I was late for brunch.
I hurried to the restaurant and the host led me to the table where Nora, Everly, and Hazel were already sipping drinks. Nora and Hazel had enormous Bloody Marys, and Everly’s drink looked like tea. Probably herbal.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” I plopped into my chair.
“No problem,” Everly said with a smile. “We’ve only ordered drinks.”
My head spun as I perused the menu. I had so many questions about last night, and although I knew my friends couldn’t definitively answer them, I really needed their advice.
The server came and took our orders. I just asked for coffee and whatever Nora was having.