All's Fair in Love and Las Vegas

Chapter Sixty-Seven

        The press arrived the next day.

        It was so intense, none of us could go out. Not safely, anyways. So we stayed in.

        Clay and Kylie were in desperate need of clothes, so they had an order delivered from the nearest Target. It was kind of cute, to watch them curl up on the couch and help each other pick out outfits. All day, Grayson and I kept shooting each other looks, like aren't they so adorable? Neither of them caught on.

        We all kept the hidden calendar in our heads, even though no one said it out loud. We were headed back to Vancouver the night of the second. Rylie had said she would do most of the setup, and I was certain that Laura would bury her nose into preparations. Plus with our new, discreet plans, there was even less need to be in town a second longer than necessary. So we had three days here, then the morning of the fourth day, we would head to our dooms. I'm sorry, our wedding.

        Having Clay and Kylie around meant there were pretty much no chores, no quiet, and no common sense. We played a million board games, had a million pillow fights, and I'm fairly certain that if his brother hadn't stopped him, Clay would've tried to make a million dollar bet on a basketball game.

        It must be nice to be rich. 

        There was also the event of the new year. Clay and Kylie, being, well, Clay and Kylie, forced us snoozeballs (their words, not mine) to actually enjoy ourselves. They bought plenty of supplies, including confetti poppers, cheesy glasses, hats, feather boas, good snacks, wine, and convinced Grayson and I to stay up late. With work, I almost always was in bed by the time midnight rolled around. In fact, this would be the first new year I've seen in probably three years.

        "Kylie, please tell me you picked out something decent," I begged. We were in her room, trying to pick out outfits for our small but exciting party.

        She snorted. "Jackie, I don't know the word. Try this on."

        "Is this even clothing?" I asked skeptically, catching the little sleeve of fabric that felt much more like a scarf. Or maybe it was a handkerchief.

        "Duh. It's a dress."

        "A dress," I said slowly. "Might I ask where it becomes a dress?"

        She sighed and took it from me, putting her hands in the fabric and stretching out what appeared to be a neckline and sleeves. "Ta-da."

        "Kylie, I can't wear this!" I argued. "Especially not around...them."

        She snorted. "First off, Clay will be too focused on me to notice you. Not that you're not hot, it's just, well, it's me in his eyes. Secondly, Grayson is kind of the whole point of this outfit."

        My face felt nuclear. "No!" I hissed. "Even if I am dressed for a fun night, I am still dressing respectably!"

        "Come on, Jackie," she begged. "He'll flip. He's already obsessed with you. Besides, I know this would look great on you."

        "He's not obsessed with me," I retorted, digging through the closet. "And I already have an outfit for tonight."

        Kylie put her hands on her hips, asking, "Oh, really?"

        I nodded and pulled out the fuchsia dress I'd planned. It wasn't too ridiculously short, about mid-thigh, and had an elegant halter neck. Still somewhat fun, but reasonable.

        "See? I can be fun," I said proudly.

        She made a face. "Yeah, if you're Baptist."