WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS

SIX

Samantha stared back at her reflection in the mirror. The person staring back her her was Sam, the loose woman. The woman who did what she wants and damn the consequence. She smirked, this is who was going to be tonight and all the days to come for the next month.

Changing out of her shirt and jeans, she settles for a short blue gown. Her reflection smiled back wickedly. Her red curls fell on her shoulder giving her that almost unreal beautiful look.

She knew how she looked. She wasn't vain or anything but she knew the type of effect she had on people, especially men. It would be silly of her to act coy and pretend that she wasn't attractive when everyone around her had been singing it into her ears since she was a little girl.

Her reason for coming to Las Vegas was simple. She came here to take control of her life, at least what's left to control. She is twenty-four and about to marry someone she didn't know, the least she figured she could do was to lose her virginity to someone of her choice and not the wimp back in New York.

Samantha slung her purse over her shoulder and walked out of the room swaying her hips seductively. Right now, she was not cheating on anyone, she was not married yet. She told herself as a slight feeling of guilt tried to rear its head.

For today she would have every type of fun she wants. Tomorrow, next week and next month would take care of itself. A mischievous grin appeared on her lips as she remembered the popular saying...

...what happens in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas.

#

The club was fairly packed and Sam figured it was because it was still early in the evening and it was not a Friday night. The black-haired man in his early twenties-the bartender attended to her and she couldn't stop gaping openly at him, he looked like something out of a fairy tale.

"So what can I get for the beautiful senorita" He smiled, winked with his sexy eyes at Sam, and for the one-hundredth time that night she was glad she decided to come to Paris.

She wasn't acting indifferent to his charms, rather she was smiling sheepishly at him, and he was smiling back. That made her feel good.

His name tag read Simon and he looked Mexican or Puerto Rican. In her head, she auditioned him for the role, she had in mind, and in terms of looks, he passed round one in flying colors.

"Can I have the strongest drink in the bar?" She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and bites down on her lips. This bad idea of hers might just be easier than she imagined.

"The strongest? I don't think you can handle it, mama" Simon said looking concerned.

Sam's hormones are cooled automatically.

"Hi Simon, that's your name right?" Sam asked with a smile that made her eyes go cold and narrow. "For a while now, people have been telling me what I can and cannot do and I am pissed and tired of hearing it" The anger, is obvious in her voice. "So, when I say that I want the strongest drink in the bar then that's what I want!"

" Your drink is coming right up" he turned away from her and started shaking drinks together.

Some part of Sam wanted to apologize for raising her voice at him but she shrugged it off. She had already raised her voice at Simon and nothing was going to change that. Her apology would only sound hypocritical.

A few minutes later, he places a cold drink in front of her and steps back warily.

"Here is your Hell on Ice, ma'am"

"Hell on ice? Nice name." Sam picked up the glass and downed its contents in one gulp, much to Simon's dismay. He stares at her as if she has lost her mind.  A hard cough escaped her lips but Sam acted unfazed, despite the small drops of tears that escaped her eyes. She wasn't about to give him the pleasure of knowing he was right.