A Billionaire for Christmas

I laugh. Fucking Vegas.

And then we’re going down and everyone is screaming, and I’m not even sure Chad is on board with his marriage vows, but who cares?

We come off the first hill and the announcer is talking again. “And Karen. Lovely Karen. No, you cannot speak to my manager about my inappropriate wedding vows. Do you, Karen—”

The coaster whips us to the side and I lose a few moments of the vows.

But then his voice is there again as we jerk back and forth towards another hill. “—for as long as you live, or until Chad cheats on you with a showgirl down in the casino, loses all the bribe money you just took to allow Jesse and Emma to take the place of your bridesmaid and best man, and you hire a hitman to off him?”

We go upside down and everyone is screaming again, so no clue if Karen’s on board either.

But when I look over at Emma she’s smiling and squealing with delight. And that’s all I care about.

“Everyone!” the announcer says. “Put your hands in the air and scream, ‘I do!’”

Everyone does. Including Emma and I.

The announcer keeps the ceremony going but I’m too busy being jerked around and laughing to hear anything else until we finally slow down and approach the station.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the officiator shouts. And then he morphs into his legal disclaimer voice and starts talking real fast. “Please do not attempt to exit the train until the ride has come to a complete stop. New York, New York Hotel and Casino takes no responsibility for your marriage contract. This is not a legally binding ceremony until your wedding documents have been signed and filed. Have a nice life and if you need a quickie annulment, please visit Marty. L. Mitts in Twain Swenson Plaza, ten minutes northeast of the casino! Congratulations, Chad and Karen!”

The train car jerks to a stop and the safety harnesses release.

I stand up, my legs shaky and my head a little dizzy from the ride. And Emma is taking my hand. “Oh, my God. That was crazy!”

I help her out of our car, and then we nod and smile at the bride and groom, and start looking for… well, shit. Who are we looking for?

“What do we do now?” Emma asks.

“I dunno. Grandma left.”

“Maybe Clarence is waiting for us back inside the hotel?”

We follow the wedding party down the walkway that leads back into the hotel, and then pause below the Big Apple Coaster sign to look around.

“I don’t see him,” Emma says.

I don’t either. I pull out my phone to check the time, just to make sure we’re still on schedule—we are. It’s only ten minutes to ten—and then a text pops up.

Meet Larry in front of the reception desk downstairs.

I hold up the phone for Emma so she can see the message. “I guess we go downstairs.”Larry ends up being a short, pot-bellied Hispanic dude with a thick, black mustache wearing a blue velour track suit with a white stripe going up the middle of his body. He rushes us as we look around. “Jesse and Emma,” he says in a thick Spanish accent. “Follow me. We’re off to Treasure Island for a pirate wedding!”

Emma squeezes my hand. “That sounds fun!”

“We have to run,” Larry says. “It’s about to start. Let’s go.”

“Run?” Emma asks. But Larry is jogging towards the lobby entrance.

“Come on,” I say, taking off and dragging her behind me. “Pirate wedding totally sounds fun. And we’re in a hurry anyway, right?”

We have one hour before we need to be back at the airport and on our way to Florida.Chapter TwelveOK, I get it. What we’re doing here in Vegas is the definition of budget wedding. But would it kill them to drive us over to Treasure Island in the Fingermobile? And/or give us the option of grabbing a cab? Because even though at one point on that coaster I could see Treasure Island down the Strip, it’s not at all close to New York, New York. Like over a mile. So by the time we skid into the lobby I have a cramp in my side and I feel like I’m about to die.

“No one said there was an athletic requirement!” I complain to Jesse as I bend over and try to breathe. He’s out of breath too, and we’re both slick with sweat even though it’s not even that hot out. You run a mile down the Las Vegas Strip and you’re a sticky mess when you arrive at your destination no matter what.

“This way,” Larry snaps.

“Come on,” Jesse says. “We only have forty-five minutes for two weddings. We have to make this quick!”

And even though everything does go very fast for the next five minutes—we make our way down a hallway and into the staging area for the Treasure Island pirate show—everything comes to a screeching halt once we arrive.