Las Vegas! What was there left to say about the place that hadn’t already been said SO many times? It was Emma’s first trip there, though the others had all been there before. At Angelina’s insistence – because she’d dated one of the junior managers there when she’d been modelling, and he got them a huge upgrade, they were booked into the Bellagio. And whilst the whole of the Las Vegas strip was jaw-droppingly amazing, she was really pleased that they were staying there.
The two bedroomed suite was high in the hotel and had a spectacular view of the fountains. It was mid afternoon when they had actually arrived at the room, and initially they’d sunk down onto the luxurious beds for a rest, it had been a long journey.
Eve stood in the middle of the suite and shouted to them.
“Come on girls! We have just five days to experience ALL that is Vegas!” She handed each of them an itinerary, “this is the plan for the next five days, EVERY moment is accounted for.”
Emma glanced at the paper handed to her and groaned, a swim/relax at the pool until five, then shower/change, dinner in the a la carte restaurant was booked for eight, then they were hitting the slot machines in the casino. Tomorrow was pool, then spa, then Tom Jones was at the Venetian…they had front row tickets…there was no let up in the plan from breakfast each morning to the entertainment into the early hours. This was going to be harder than she imagined.
“So let’s change girls!”
Within half an hour they were poolside, reclining on loungers and soaking up the rays of sunshine. A rare treat after the weather of London. Clothing had been another extravagant expense for Emma; after all she couldn’t lie beside two ex models in anything but a new stylish bikini. Though next to them she felt like a whale. She’d lost weight over the last year, but she still had more curves than was fashionable. She’d struggled with her body image when Damien dumped her for a skinny blonde not far off half her age. It was bordering on illegal, and that was the only thing that Emma could take out of it.
She’d loved Damien, with all her heart. They’d met at freshers’ week at their university. He was an architect student and made it onto the football, cricket and rugby teams, he was tall, good looking and the epitome of charm. Emma had repeatedly wondered why he had chosen her, when he really could have had anyone, and she meant that literally.
With the benefit of hindsight, and a perspective that took her a long time to find after weeks of tears and depression, she realised that negativity, the feeling that she was never good enough was her downfall. She’d become desperate, keeping him had become a fulltime job. It was neither healthy, nor promising. But she’d been blind to that back then.
Now she no longer felt completely inadequate beside the other three women, but she hadn’t fully restored her confidence. Saying that reclining beside the pool, in the warm sunshine, with a liveried man more than happy to bring them ice cold drinks, made a lot of things worthwhile.
Eve and Angelina were like a comedy double act, they complimented each other, and they were both infectious, and a magnet for everyone in the hotel. The only time they weren’t plagued by groups of men, was when they were sat in their rather expensive seats at the front row for Sir Tom.
It was the perfect venue for that first night, and none of them could deny that they were shattered and glad to turn in early. [to be continued…]