I’m not exactly sure what he has in mind, but when I open my mouth to ask him to elaborate, I lose my train of thought. “I should call Dean!” I say, plucking at individual strands of my hair and staring at them. Perhaps it’s time for highlights. Or a Brazilian blowout. Ooh, a Brazilian wax too. Or a Brazilian butt lift. Now wait a minute . . .

“That’s the alcohol talking.”

“Yes. It’s making me braver than I would be otherwise. Just go with it.”

He waves me away, as though he’s granting me permission to make an ass of myself. “Knock yourself out. But can we head downstairs first? I want to take some pictures in the casino, then walk the streets a bit. You game?”

“For you? Of course!”

“Cool. Don’t forget to tell Dean everything we just talked about. He needs to hear it too.”

Dean

My cell phone rings, pulling me out of my stupor. Setting aside the Chinese takeout I’m eating out of the carton in bed, I lean toward the nightstand and glance at the screen.

Solange.

The phone is in my hands in seconds, and I sit up as I answer, readjusting the pillow behind me. “Hey, is everything okay?”

We’re three hours apart, and it’s just past six o’clock in the evening here. Time is pointless to me these days, though. I’m in this mental netherworld where getting ready for bed before sunset is perfectly appropriate.

The first thing I hear is music. Very loud music. Then shuffling of some kind. “Solange, are you there?” I ask.

“Hey, Dean, sorry to bother you, but I’m in Vegas, and I just wanted to say hello.”

Her speech is slow—not slurred—which means she’s probably tipsy.

“Hello to you too. What’s going on?”

“Well, here’s the thing. I’ve been thinking about what you said the last time we were together.”

Shit. This isn’t a conversation I want to have over the phone. I have declarations to make, assurances to give. They aren’t going to land the same way if we do this now. “Don’t worry about it. I said a lot of things that day, and not all of them are true. We can talk about it when you get back from Vegas if you want.”

“Well, okay, but I wanted to tell you that I’m an amazing woman, and you’re missing out on a good thing. And any person would be lucky to have me as their partner.” She lowers her voice and speaks to someone on her end of the line. “What?” she says to them. “Oh, yeah. I’ll tell him that too.” Then to me, she says, “But you know what? It’ll be okay. I’ll always have Brandon.”