“We should go on vacation somewhere. All of us.”
I looked up from my book, setting my reading glasses on the table next to the lamp that was providing my reading light.
“You want to go on a vacation, Chris?” I asked, setting my book down on the arm of the chair.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like we have to get back out into the music business anytime soon.”
That was true. Courtney had told JC that he was supposed to take it easy for a while, and she had advised not getting back into anything *NSYNC related until late that year.
“Well, where do you want to go, Chris?”
“Vegas,” Chris said automatically, and I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” JC asked, coming into the living room, followed by Justin and Joey. He came over to me and kissed the top of my head, sitting on the vacant arm rest.
“Chris wants to go on a vacation to Las Vegas,” I told the rest of them. “All right, vacation!” Joey exclaimed.
“Why Vegas?” JC asked.
Chris shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just somewhere to go, somewhere that’s not here.”
“I think it sounds fun,” Justin said.
“Ditto that,” Joey added.
I looked over at JC. “I’m game if you are.”
JC sighed. “All right, we’ll go to Vegas.”
“Yes!” Joey and Chris shared high fives.
*
“Anyone have a quarter?” Chris asked as soon as we got off the plane, seeing the slot machines ahead.
“You need more than that, Chris,” JC muttered, walking over to one of the slot machines. “Watch, I’m going to show you why you shouldn’t gamble,” JC said, reaching in his pocked, pulling out two quarters and putting them into the machine, pulling the lever and watching as the three pictures set into place. The machine made a dinging noise and nickels started pouring from the machine.
“Okay, pretend that didn’t happen,” JC said, trying to scoop up what had to be at least three dollars in nickels. Chris rolled his eyes and grabbed a handful of JC’s nickels, moving to the machine next to him.
“Come on guys,” Justin said, “we don’t have time for this! I want to get back to the hotel.”
“Hang on, let me just finish using all of JC’s nickels, then I’m coming, I promise,” Chris said.
“No,” JC told him, putting in ten of his nickels. “Come back here, I’m going to show you that gambling is a waste of time.” Chris sighed and walked back over to the slot machine JC was standing in front of. JC pulled the lever, and everyone watched as the slots froze in place. The machine made another noise and more money came out.
Chris rolled his eyes and went back to his machine. JC grinned and said, “Hey, this is great, I’m winning. That never happens!” Justin sighed and said, “We’re leaving you now, guys. Get a cab and meet us at the hotel.”
“Uh-huh, okay,” Chris said, pulling the lever on his machine.
“JC? Did you hear that?” I asked.
“Yep,” JC said, grinning as more coins came out of his machine.
“All right, I’ll see you back at the hotel.”
He didn’t say anything else, and I hurried to catch up with Justin and Joey.
*
We got down to the baggage terminal, got our bags (as well as the ones belonging to Chris and JC), and took a taxi over to the car rental about a mile from the airport. We got our car and were well on our way to The Strip when I realized something.
“Guys?” I asked.
“What?” Joey answered.
“Do Chris and JC even know what hotel we’re staying at?”
Justin slammed on the brakes and made a quick U-Turn, heading back towards the airport.
*
“Where’s JC?” Joey asked as he came into our hotel room.
“Down in the casino,” I said with a laugh. “I think he’s hooked.”
“I hope you don’t have to send him to Gamblers Anonymous,” Joey grinned.
“Me neither.”
“Well, I just came to see what you were doing. Do you want to do something later tonight, go to a club or something?”
“I’m not going to a strip club, Joey,” I said with a laugh.
“Fine,” Joey said with a lusty sigh. “I’ll come around here at about eight?”
“It’s a date,” I told him.
“Ooh, don’t let JC hear that, he might get all jealous.”
“My bet is he’s still down at the casino and wont even notice that I’m gone.”
*
I opened the door to my room to go out and get some ice, and at the same time the door to the room across the hall opened and someone came out. It was a man, he was tall, his hair was long and stringy, not too terribly attractive, but he wasn’t ugly either.
“Hello,” he said, smiling at me.
“Hi,” I replied.
“I’m Jake,” he said, extending his hand, “Jake O’Neal.”
“Lance... James,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you Lance James. Maybe we’ll see each other around again sometime.”
“Maybe,” I said, and I swear, if he had had a hat on, he would’ve tipped it to me. He didn’t, though, so he just walked off.
I turned the other way and went to get my ice.
*
