Read Lost in Las Vegas Online

Authors: Melody Carlson

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Lost in Las Vegas (10 page)

BOOK: Lost in Las Vegas
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“What’s that?” asked DJ.

“I was just saying that worrying doesn’t help anything, dear.”

“Oh.”

“And I can tell by your expression that you’re getting worried.”

“I was just wondering if going to Las Vegas for Christmas was a good idea after all.”

“Then why are you going, dear?”

DJ shrugged. “It sounded like fun.”

The woman shook her head. “I hope you will be careful. Las Vegas can be a very dangerous place. A pretty young girl like you could get into all kinds of trouble there.”

“Really?”

“Most certainly. I’ve heard all sorts of stories. Especially if you’re not staying at a reputable place.”

“We’re staying at a hotel called Mandalay Bay, and we’ll be there until New Year’s — ”

The woman’s brows lifted now. “Goodness, that’s a very nice hotel — and rather expensive too, especially for that long of a time. I’m surprised young people can afford such things. It’s not like it was when I was a college coed.”

So DJ opened up and told the woman about Taylor and her mother and the generous invitation, and how she was going primarily because it seemed that Taylor was lonely. She left out the part about going to make sure that Taylor didn’t get into trouble.

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you, dear. I’m sure it will be worth whatever little inconveniences you may experience while traveling.” The woman patted her hand. “Now, that we know each other better, I think we should introduce ourselves. My name is Clara Snider.”

“I’m DJ Lane. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Snider.”

“Oh, you can call me Clara.” She chuckled. “Who knows . . . we may know each other quite well if our flight continues to be delayed.”

Unfortunately, one delay seemed to turn into another until it was nearly eight at night and all flights were cancelled.

“Is there any point in trying to get a hotel?” DJ asked the agent at the gate.

“No. For one thing, I doubt you’d get one.” She handed DJ a plastic-encased blanket and pillow from the plane. “Besides that, there’s a chance this flight will get out around six a.m. if the storm lets up like they’re predicting. In that case, you’d need to be back here before four and, if you think about it, it’s hardly worth it.”

“Can I have another pillow and blanket for my friend?” DJ glanced over to where Clara was snoozing in her seat.

“Here you go.” The agent lowered her voice. “And here’s a tip. If you didn’t bring any food, you might want to go get something before it’s too late.”

“Too late?”

“Meaning before everyone figures out that they’re spending the night here.”

“Right.”

DJ hurried back to Clara, piled the blankets and pillows on the chair where she had left her book and jacket, and then headed out to forage for food. As it turned out, the gate agent was right. The air terminal was packed with thousands of travelers who’d been stuck in O’Hare all day. Every restaurant had long, crowded lines, and signs were posted announcing which foods were already starting to run out. According to the news, the roads surrounding Chicago were a mess as well, and the prediction was that delivery trucks would be delayed as a result. But somehow DJ managed to gather an assortment of fresh fruit, crackers, nuts, and candy bars, as well as several bottles of water — enough, she figured, for both her and Clara. On her way back to her seat, she phoned Taylor with the latest news.

“No way!” cried Taylor. “You
have
to make it in tonight.”

“It’s not possible.” DJ stuffed a water bottle into her backpack.

“Bummer!”

“Tell me about it.”

“Did you get a hotel?”

DJ glanced around the packed terminal, where people were already setting up makeshift campsites and preparing for a long night. “Yeah, right. Earth to Taylor. It’s a blizzard here, all flights are cancelled, it’s holiday traffic, and the hotels are full.”

“Ugh! That’s too bad. Spending the night in O’Hare . . . sounds like a nightmare.”

“Well, at least I’ve made a friend to keep me company.”

“A guy? Is he hot? Maybe you can cuddle up with him and stay warm.”

DJ laughed. “It’s an old woman, Taylor.”

“Oh. It figures. Call me when you know you’re coming in. I’ll send out a limo.”

“Like six in the morning?”

“Maybe not. Just call the hotel. I’ll arrange it so that it goes on our bill. Okay?”

DJ sighed. “Okay.”

“And DJ,” Taylor’s voice softened a little. “Be careful, okay?”

“Thanks. Hopefully I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”

DJ pressed her way back through the crowds of people until she reached the right gate, which was even more packed now than before.

“I foraged for us,” said DJ as she held up her bulging backpack.

“Bless you, child,” said Clara.

“I figured I better get some food before it was gone.”

“Smart girl.” Clara reached for her oversize handbag. “I brought a few things to munch on, but they’re mostly gone.” Now Clara set her rolling carry-on bag between them like a low table, arranging a napkin like a tablecloth as DJ unpacked the food. Then Clara bowed her head. “For what we are about to receive, make us truly thankful. Amen.”

DJ grinned at her. “Cool.”

Clara laughed. “Yes. Cool.” Then she opened her handbag to produce a small jar of peanut butter and some mozzarella string cheese.

“That will be perfect with the crackers,” said DJ.

“It’s like the loaves and fishes,” Clara declared. “God always provides.”

After they finished their meal, Clara produced a deck of cards. “Do you play gin rummy?”

DJ admitted she didn’t know how, and Clara offered to teach her. By midnight, DJ had the game down, but she could tell Clara was worn out. “Would you like to try to find a place to lie down?” asked DJ, suddenly concerned with the old woman’s welfare.

“I hate to give up our seats.” Clara glanced around the crowded area. “It’s possible we might not find a better spot.”

“Why don’t you stay here while I look around,” suggested DJ. But when DJ walked through the terminal, she could see it was futile. The place was packed. Finally, back at her own gate, she saw the weary-looking ticket agent and decided to approach her.

“I’m worried about my friend over there,” said DJ. “She’s pretty old to be sitting up all night. Do you know anywhere she could lie down?”

The agent looked behind the counter. “I guess you could both have this area back here. I’m about to leave anyway.”

“Thanks!” DJ looked at the small space which suddenly seemed like a plush, private room. “I’ll be right back.”

“I found something,” said DJ, grabbing up their things. “Up there.”

Soon DJ had managed to make a “mattress” of sorts from the clothing in their carry-on bags and their coats. “It’s not the Ritz,” she admitted.

“It’s lovely,” said Clara. “And you are an angel.”

After they were both settled down, Clara sighed. “It reminds me of the first Christmas. Mary and Joseph . . . in Bethlehem . . . no room at the inn . . . but God took care of them . . . they made do . . . and then the Savior was born.”

DJ considered this. But before she could respond, she heard the quiet sounds of Clara’s snores. And that’s when it hit DJ — if she hadn’t connected with Clara today, if she’d been by herself in this crazy, crowded terminal — stuck here for the night — she would’ve been feeling vulnerable and scared right now. As it was, she felt safe and protected. It’s as if God sent Clara to be her angel. And then DJ went to sleep too.

10

 

“I’D LIKE YOU TO MEET
my latest guardian angel.” Clara politely introduced DJ to her son. The three of them were standing amidst the crowd clamoring around the baggage carousel, watching for their bags to pop out.

He shook DJ’s hand. “Thanks for helping my mom in Chicago.”

DJ laughed. “I thought she was the one who helped me.”

Soon they had gathered their bags and were making their way to the ground transportation area. “You sure you don’t need a ride?” Clara’s son asked DJ for the second time.

“I’m supposed to be picked up,” DJ assured them. She tried not to look nervous as she glanced around the busy area.

“Well, you take care now.” Then Clara kissed DJ on the cheek and departed with her son. Suddenly DJ felt very much alone — alone in a big crowd. She walked around, watching as people connected with loved ones, grabbed taxis or shuttles, all hurrying on their way. She seemed to be the only one who had no idea of what to do or where to go. And she was getting more and more frustrated. Even though it wasn’t yet eight a.m., she was about to call Taylor when she suddenly noticed a man dressed in a neat black uniform holding up a sign that said DJ Lane. In relief, she waved at him, hurrying down the sidewalk toward him. “That’s me!” she exclaimed.

“DJ Lane?” He gave her a scrutinizing look.

“Yes.” She glanced down at her rumpled clothes, then quickly explained how she’d spent last night sleeping on the floor of an air terminal.

“Eva Perez sent me to get you.” He gathered her bags and nodded to the black stretch Hummer limo that was waiting right next to him. DJ had to laugh as she remembered her last ride in a rig like this. Okay, maybe that Hummer had been white, but this one smelled a whole lot better. And this one she had all to herself.

“Wow,” said DJ as he helped her into the back. “I feel like a rock star.”

He just nodded politely, then closed the door.

She leaned back into the comfortable leather seat and sighed. This was quite a departure from sleeping on the floor of an airport. She peered out the window, trying to take in the glittering billboards and tall buildings. It wasn’t long until they were at the hotel. The driver unloaded her bags and handed them off to another guy in a uniform who led her to a registration desk, informing the clerk that she was “a guest of Ms. Perez.”

“Yes, I just need to see your ID and have you sign here,” the woman told her. Then she was given a key and a room number, and the next thing she knew she was walking into what looked like a very expensive home. Their suite had a spacious living area that looked out over a large pool, a full-size kitchen and dining area, and a hallway with several closed doors. The bellboy set her bags inside and, without even waiting for a tip, quickly made himself scarce. The suite was quiet. Since it was only a little past nine, DJ guessed that her hosts were still sleeping. She made herself comfortable on the large sectional and fell quickly to sleep as well.

“You’re finally here!” exclaimed Taylor. DJ sat up and attempted to get her bearings. For a moment she thought she was back home with Taylor in their shared room. But then she noticed the plush surroundings and remembered Vegas.

“Yes, finally.” DJ yawned and stretched. “Pretty nice digs you got here.”

“It’s the best they have,” said Taylor. “Penthouse suite . . . although we still have to share a room. But at least it has two queen beds.”

“What time is it?”

“A little past one.” Taylor tied the belt of her short black satin robe and glanced toward the kitchen. “You hungry?”

“Actually, I’m ravenous.”

“I was thinking of heading down to the pool. I could call in an order and have it delivered to our cabana.”

“Our cabana?”

“Yes, we have the use of a cabana while we’re here. Number 14.”

“A cabana, like, on a beach?”

“Actually, there is a beach here.”

“A beach? I thought we were in Las Vegas. Isn’t that sort of landlocked?”

“The hotel has a pool with waves and sand like a beach. It’s not bad, unless there are too many kiddies playing.” Taylor pointed out the big window. “See, it’s down there, past the other pools — that big one.”

DJ nodded. “Interesting.”

“Why don’t you meet me down there after you clean up and unpack your stuff?”

“A shower does sound good, and it shouldn’t take too long to unpack since I’m traveling pretty light.”

“Didn’t you borrow some of my clothes like I told you to do?”

DJ frowned. “I didn’t really want to go through your things, Taylor. Not when you weren’t there. It would feel weird.”

Taylor laughed. “Hey, I would go through your things if I wanted.”

“I’m sure you would.”

“Anyway, by the time you get down there, I should have things pretty much set for lunch.”

“In cabana 14?”

“That’s right. I’ll just order some salads and sandwiches — enough so that we can have guests if we like.”

“Guests?” DJ frowned as she tried to imagine people crowding into a tiny tent. “In our cabana? How big is it anyway?”

Taylor just laughed. “Oh, DJ, you have so much to learn.”

“And I’m sure you’re just the person to teach me.”

“Absolutely.”

“And please tell me that you don’t plan on wearing one of those ugly team suits to the pool.”

“Why not?”

BOOK: Lost in Las Vegas
6.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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