Название: I Heart Vegas
Автор: Lindsey Kelk
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: I Heart Series
isbn: 9780007383450
isbn:
‘So, I know you’ve been super-stressed lately,’ Jenny started explaining as I tussled with the tightly tied ribbon. ‘And I was like, what would totally chill Angie out?’
Massage vouchers? A weekend away in the mountains? Lots and lots of drugs? No, that would be from my mum.
‘And I thought about the things that help me when I’m freaking out. The places that make me feel like Jenny again.’
Uh-oh. Pole-dancing lessons? Tickets to Vegas? Lots and lots of drugs?
‘And I came up with this. It’s going to be the shit, doll.’
I wasn’t sure about ‘the shit’, but the fevered look in Jenny’s eyes scared me. Everyone was silent while they watched me give up and rip the ribbon from the box with my teeth, because I’m so classy, and tear into the box.
Meep.
Inside the box was a copy of Gambling for Dummies and three plane tickets.
‘Vegas, baby!’ Jenny bounced up and down on the bed. ‘Me, you and Erin. Girls’ weekend away, just a total, awesome blow-out. We’re going to go crazy. No over-thinking, no panicking, no worrying. Just fun. It’s exactly what you need.’
‘It is?’
It was?
‘Totally,’ she said, landing on her arse right next to Vanessa’s face. ‘We’ll get drunk, we’ll dance, hang out by the pool, go to the spa. It’ll be awesome. No one needs to get on the pole like you do, honey.’
‘Yeah, Ange,’ Alex contributed. ‘You do need to get on the pole.’
I could have punched him, but I was all Rocky’d out for one week. Instead, I took a spectator’s stance and watched as Vanessa pushed Jenny off the bed and onto the floor, right on her backside. She did have it coming.
‘And when Jenny’s finished trying to kill us all, I have a client opening a store in the Crystals, so there is going to be some intense window shopping going on,’ Erin said. ‘And don’t worry, I won’t let her make you pole dance.’
After a moment of fear had passed, I started to smile. I was more concerned that it wouldn’t be a case of ‘making me’ so much as ‘stopping me’. I’d always wanted to go to Vegas, always. It just sounded so fabulous: all girls in feathered headdresses serving elaborate cocktails to shady blackjack players while Frank Sinatra belted out ‘Strangers in the Night’ on stage. Somewhere, I was semi-aware that these days, Vegas was more Kim Kardashian knocking back jello shots while P. Diddy set his iPod to shuffle in the DJ booth, but still. Surely there was still a good old glamorous time to be had somewhere on the Strip?
‘So.’ I held up the tickets. ‘When do we leave?’
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