“Don’t you dare.”
“Ouch, seriously. How long do I have towear it?”
“All night, Katie girl.”
“Ewe…Laura. That sounds so wrong comingfrom you.”
“Then don’t take it off.”
“Fine.” The hostess seats us in a smallbooth.
“Your server is Emil this evening, andhe’ll be with you shortly.”
“Damn, I hope Emil is as hot as hisname.” Laura fans herself with the menu.
“Here, let me help you. The last thing Iwant is for you to overheat.” And I fan my menu over her.
“Oh, thanks girl.”
“Is it too warm in here?” Laura and Iboth look up at a tall, very handsome, very fit, olive-skinned man.
“It is now,” I mutter, and get an elbowto the rib. “Uh, no, just hot flashes?” And I get another elbow to my side.
He gives us a friendly smile. “Welcome tothe Peppermill. I’m Emil and I will be your server this evening. Are we celebratinganything special tonight?”
“My friend here is getting married onSaturday.”
“Congratulations. Here in Las Vegas orare you in town for some pre-nuptial fun?”
I open my mouth, but then close it. I’mnot sure how to answer that question. Because I already got married here inVegas, and I’m not in town, technically I live here. But then I’m gettingre-married. Is that right, or re-committing in Idaho?
“Kate’s been living here in Vegas. Herand, um—well, she and Cole are getting married in Idaho.”
He nods, and I smile. “What would youlike to drink?” Emil asks.
“I better start with soda. I’ll haveDiet Pepsi.”
Laura screws up her face at me. “I guessyou’re right. I’ll have regular Pepsi.”
“Great, I’ll give you ladies a fewminutes to look over the menu and be back with your drinks.”
A tall woman with spiky brown and blondhair walks up to our table with two drinks. “Kate and Laura?”
I give the woman a strange look. How theheck does she know my name? “I’m Kate.” I hold my hand up.
“Then this one is for you.” She sits downa martini glass filled with pink creamy liquid and garnished with a cherry.Laura’s is in a wide mouth glass filled with an orange red slushy liquid.
“Thanks, but I didn’t order this, andum—it’s pretty looking, but what is it?”
“It’s called a pink squirrel. It hascrème de cacao, which has a slight chocolate taste to it, crème de noyaux,which is an almond flavor and then heavy crème. Your drinks are from thegentlemen in the lounge over there.” She points to a booth in the corner, andCole holds up his glass, saluting me as well as all the other guys.
I hold my drink up and smile.
“And yours Miss, is called a scorpion.Would you like to know what’s in it?”
“Is there alcohol in it?” Laura asks.
“Yes.”
