“Yeah, he told me I’d have to come backto get that one finished and I like this one more. Let me see yours?”
Eddie pulls back the gauze. “Holy shit,Kate!”
“I know, don’t say it.”
“Okay, I won’t. Are you ready? We need toget a move on.”
“Yep, I’m ready.”
“We have to hurry.” Laura grabs my hand,running into the building. She throws our tickets into a big bouncer guy’shands and keeps going. Keaton reaches him before the bouncer guy can come afterus. “Shoot, shoot, I hope we aren’t late.” She grumbles as we run into a largelounge.
“Whoa.” I stop. It’s a wall of people.Most of them look like women.
“Don’t stop.” Laura jerks on my arm. “Ourseats are up front.” She drags me through the crowd. “Excuse us.” She startsout being nice, but the women aren’t really being very polite as we movethrough the crowd and Laura’s tone gets progressively worse. “Move over.” Shehisses at some tall, busty blonde.
I hear someone swear at us and have toturn around; that was the deepest woman’s voice I’ve ever heard. I give her apleading look and mouth, “Sorry.” But I’m not all that sure she is a she. Iwhip my head back around. Better to not stare. I’m not going to think about it.We step past a half dozen women to get to our seats.
“Sorry,” I mutter, stepping on someladies’ toes.
“Holy shit.” Laura plops down into achair that has a “reserved” tag on it. “That was torture.”
“Are we late?” I glance around. All thesewomen look like they’ve been here for a while.
Laura gives me a sheepish smile. “Um—it’sa variety show, and I wanted to make it for this one performance I knew you’dlike.”
“Did we make it for the one you wanted?”The lights dim and then all these multi-colored lights swirl on the stage. Thewoman next to me whistles and then screams, startling me.
“This is my favorite. I come to Vegasevery year to see this performance.” Music plays in the background and morewomen hoot and holler. I hear one shout, “I love you, Elvis.”
“Yep, we made it.” Laura exhales, sittingback with a satisfied look on her face.
“We are watching an Elvis impersonator?”I rub my hands together and bounce in my seat excitedly. “I went with Cole andPreston to see one. He was so good.”
“Yeah, he’s an impersonator, but probablynot the same kind.” Laura’s smile widens, and she winks at me.
“I don’t care. You know how much I loveElvis.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why we’re here.”
The lady next to me grabs my arm. She’s amiddle aged heavy set woman, with short dark hair. “You love Elvis too?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“This is the best Elvis impersonator showever. If I could afford it, I would do a private show and eat chocolate off histoned stomach.” The woman sitting next to me fans herself with her hand.
Too much information, lady. I just met mymatch in the Elvis love department. Music starts up. “Ladies, and well Ladies.”An announcer blares through a microphone. “Are you ready to be Elvis-fied.” Theroom erupts into a frenzy of claps, screams, hoots, and hollers. It’s so loud,I think I may need to cover my ears. Laura leans over, saying something to me,but I can’t hear her. The music becomes deafening, and the crowd settles down abit. Elvis’ Burning Love blares through the room. The lights on the stage godark and then suddenly there’s a tall man in a white sequin jumpsuit with acape. He looks like an Elvis impersonator. The room erupts again, but not asloud. He bends his microphone and then starts to lip sync with the music.
I turn, to Laura, confused. “Keepwatching,” she mouths. I turn back to the front and the impersonator gyrateshis hips against the microphone stand. Uh—wow, that man knows how to move hiships. He pulls the zipper down the front of his torso, exposing his tannedshiny chest, and the room explodes in delightful screams. He stops singing anddances down the stage away from us, swinging his cape over his head, letting itgo. I’m so confused. I thought he was going to sing. Isn’t that what Elvisimpersonators do? The Elvis dancer moves back to the center of the stagedirectly in front of us as he unzips his jumpsuit a little more and the womannext to me moans. I glance at her, concerned. Is she having a heart attack?
“Are you okay?” I yell at her.
She just smiles, fanning herself. I lookup in time to see the dancer grab the sides of his jumpsuit and yank. Eventhough I’m sure it’s mere seconds, it seems to happen in slow motion. Thejumpsuit comes completely free of his body, leaving the man in a skimpy whitesequined speedo. My mouth falls open and I’m pretty sure I scream. Not the ‘ohmy god’ this guy is so hot dancing half naked in front of me and I’m so turnedon scream. The blood curdling ‘someone’s about to kill me’ scream. Luckily,everyone else in the room is also screaming at the top of their lungs, so noone notices. I look around and realize I’m standing. “Kate.” Laura yanks on myhand and then pushes me down into my seat.
“Oh shit.” She puts her hands on mycheeks. “Are you okay? Your face is beet red.”
“I’m good,” I say, all winded, giving hera dismissive hand.
“You’re sure?”
