What Happens in Vegas

Bella tipped her wine glass my way and I clinked it with my frozen drink. “Touché.”

By the time we finished up, everyone seemed satisfied that I was in my right mind. Yes, I’d lost my job. No, it wasn’t that big a deal. I explained I’d be finding something new, and that it would be bigger and better than my last position. I didn’t mention I’d be going independent, though. As much as I loved Noelle, she had a bigger mouth than anyone I knew.

I also told them I was taking a week to myself, and I’d be flying out tomorrow. Everyone seemed excited for me. But they seemed more intrigued than anything, that I was going back to Vegas.

“Going to visit your ‘mystery man’?” Heather teased.

The term made me queasy, but what they were calling him. I guess it was my own fault. I told them yes, for simplicity sake.

Eventually we broke apart with usual kisses and hugs. As everyone filed out of the restaurant, Bella followed along the sidewalk next to me. Which could only mean one thing, because she lived uptown, clear in the other direction.

“Alright,” she said when we were out of earshot of the others. “Spill it.”

“Spill what?” I asked innocently.

“You’re going back to see this guy again,” she said. “Only it’s not a guy, is it?”

I stopped walking. One of the street vendors selling charcoal artwork mistook me for a customer, but I waved him away.

“I didn’t think so,” said Bella.

I looked my friend up and down. There was the standard curiosity, but none of the prying ‘must-know’ bullshit behind it. She was concerned, more than anything. And that touched me.

“How did you know?”

“Because it’s been three months since Vegas and you’ve always referred to him in vague terms,” said Bella. “You’re short with your answers. Intentionally non-descriptive. And you’ve never once showed any of us a photo. Including me.”

I was speechless. Caught between another series of fresh lies — lies my savvy friend would see right through — and the staggering truth.

“Okay,” I said. “It’s not a guy.”

Bella’s eyes narrowed for a moment before going wide again.

“A girl?”

“No, not a girl.”

My friend placed a fist against her ribs and shifted from one hip to the other. “Good, because in that case I might’ve been offended.” She winked at me. “You know if you ever decided to dabble that way…”

“Yeah yeah,” I laughed, poking her. “I know.”

“Who is it really then?” she said more seriously. When I still hesitated her shoulders went limp. “Come on, Lauren,” she sighed. “You know you can tell me, right?”

“I know.”

“And that I wouldn’t tell the others,” she added quickly. “Ever.”

I nodded. “I know that too. It’s just that—”

“And I wouldn’t judge. Not even a little bit.”

I stopped talking. Suddenly all the blood in my body was rushing to my head.

“And hey, considering all the stuff I’ve told you?” Bella went on. “It’s almost offensive that you wouldn’t—”

“It’s not a guy,” I said again flatly. “It’s… guys.”

There were a few seconds of awkward silence, as my friend wrestled with the meaning of what I’d just said. Then, all at once, her expression went from total confusion to utter astonishment.