Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The plane touched down in Las Vegas shortly before noon. Lacey spent most of the hour-and-a-half flight asleep. Sam spent most of the flight alternating between watching her and knitting Christmas presents. The repetitive motion of the knitting needles soothed his nerves and paying attention to the pattern and stitches took his mind off his anxiety about flying.
But nothing seemed to be able to soothe his nerves or take his mind off of the anxiety he felt about Lacey.
She’d been so distraught the night before that for a second he’d thought something had happened to Daisy. Then he remembered that he’d seen Daisy on his way in and she was fine. It had been a relief that she had merely lost all her money to a security breach.
It frustrated him that she wouldn’t let him help. He wouldn’t miss a few thousand dollars, especially if it provided the woman he loved with some peace. But he had to respect her reasons, even if he didn’t agree with them. Those reasons had made her say he was important to her, that their relationship was important to her, and when he wasn’t actively worrying, Sam was so giddy he was practically floating.
Maybe he could rig a card game or a slot machine. Would a casino care if he provided the funds? It was something to think about. A reverse heist of sorts. Or maybe fake a lottery ticket. Peter could help him set up something that elaborate and stupid.
The first thing Lacey said when she stepped off the plane was “Holy shit! It’s cold.”
“I told you!” Wes shouted from inside the flight deck. “Sunny and fifty-nine, oh so fine.”
“It’s not any colder than home,” Sam pointed out, pulling her hat down a little lower on her face. A long lens camera could be anywhere, especially during an event weekend.
“Yeah, but it’s Vegas . It’s supposed to be hot.”
“I’ll bring you back in the summer so you can roast,” he promised.
They approached the black SUV waiting near the plane. The airport ground crew were loading their bags into the back.
“Wow.” Lacey let out a low whistle, which made Daisy’s ears perk up. “We’re fancy.”
Sam recognized the bodyguard that opened the back door for them. John Paul—a name Sam actually remembered because he associated it with the former Pope—was not a physically imposing man. He was shorter than Sam, but had the kind of broad chest and shoulders that made him look like a pit bull. John Paul was no-nonsense but not controlling, and best of all, not chatty. If he spoke, it had a purpose.
John Paul gave a curt nod of hello. “Sam.”
“John Paul,” Sam said, and then put an arm on the small of Lacey’s back. “This is Lacey Finch, my girlfriend, and this is Daisy, our dog.”
John Paul gave Lacey the same curt nod, but when he saw Daisy, his professional tough guy demeanor fell away. A broad smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and he spoke to her in a high-pitched, sing-song voice.
“Oh, hello, beautiful girl. Who’s a good girl? Are you a good girl?”
Daisy wiggled and pranced, her tail wagging at the speed of sound. Lacey was going to have to fight John Paul for dog-walking duty. Maybe he needed another guard, because if it came down to it, Sam had a feeling John Paul would protect Daisy first.
Lacey put her lips close to his ear and whispered, “If you play your cards right, I might be a very good girl for you later.”
Sam didn’t care if she was a good girl or a bad girl, as long as she was a naked girl.
“I think the hotel has the Hallmark Murders and Mysteries channel. That should keep Daisy busy for a bit,” he said as they climbed into the SUV.
“Maybe we can get her to branch out. Columbo. Monk. Diagnosis: Murder ,” Lacey joked and buckled in.
“I bet we could get John Paul to babysit.”
“But would we get the dog back?” Lacey raised her eyebrows, then winked as John Paul got into the driver’s seat.
“Straight to the hotel?” he asked, glancing into the rearview mirror.
“Yes, please,” Sam said, relaxing into his pre-heated seat. There were a lot of downsides to celebrity, but this was not one of them.
John Paul pulled up the current routes and traffic conditions on the console screen, and selected a route that, while not direct, offered the least amount of traffic.
Lacey commented on the various billboards as they passed them. Las Vegas was clogged with advertisements for shows, strippers, and lawyers.
“How many wedding chapels do you think Vegas has?” she asked after reading a sign for a drive-thru wedding experience.
“I’d imagine a lot. I think a lot of the hotels on the strip have them. Plus, Vegas is known for it,” Sam said, looking out her window at the sign.
A wild idea entered his mind. If she didn’t want his money, would she take her own?
“Lacey,” he said, “how much money did your mom leave you as a wedding present?”
She thought for a moment. “I think the total is at about $67,000 now. Why?”
“Would that take care of your debt?”
“Yes.” Her eyes widened as it dawned on her what he was getting at. “Sam, you’re not serious.”
“I’m very, very serious.” He took her hands and squeezed them, his heart racing. Nervous nausea tossed his stomach like a beach ball in a hurricane. “Let me help you. We’re in Vegas, for fuck’s sake. There’s no better place in the world for an impulsive, quickie wedding. We could be in and out before the show starts tonight.”
“Have you even thought this through? We’d be married. ”
Married to Lacey. He loved the sound of that. The advantages kept piling up, too. If they were married, he’d have more time to get her to love him back in the same way he loved her.
“Isn’t doing borderline stupid, very impulsive things on brand for us?” he asked. “How hard would it be to get your money after you got married?”
“Not hard. I’d need to send a copy of the marriage license to the firm that handles the account and they’d cut me a check.”
“So you could potentially be solvent before Christmas,” Sam pointed out, and Lacey’s eyebrows knitted together in consideration of this point. He was winning her over. “I’m not seeing any downsides here.”
“We don’t have a pre-nup.”
“I don’t need or want your money, sunshine.”
Lacey rolled her eyes. “I know that.”
“Do you want my money?” he asked, and she shook her head. “So why is a pre-nup important?”
“Because I don’t want anyone to ever be able to say I married you for your money,” she said quietly. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m a gold digger.”
“My lawyer can draw up a post-nup on Monday.” Dear god, Athena is going to get a kick out of this . “Look, you don’t have to marry me, and if you do, we don’t have to stay married. But I think it’s the easiest and quickest way to help you, and I’m offering to do it.”
Lacey looked down at their joined hands and pursed her lips. Sam couldn’t breathe while she thought. Finally, she gave a small nod.
“You’re right. Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”
“Congratulations,” John Paul said from the front seat, and Sam startled. He’d forgotten the bodyguard was even in the car with them. “Do you want to go to the marriage license bureau or the hotel?”
“The what?” Sam asked.
“The Clark County Marriage License Bureau. You can’t just show up at a chapel without your paperwork,” John Paul explained. “My wife and I made that mistake. It’s not like it is in the movies.”
Sam was astounded. “You’re married?”
“You can fill out the application online, actually,” John Paul continued. “Then you can run in, show them your IDs, and we can find a chapel.”
Lacey squeezed his hand to get his attention. “Not to sound ungrateful, but even if it’s not a real marriage, I’d rather not get married in leggings and a sweatshirt I got for free.”
Sam took a good, hard, objective look at Lacey. She looked like she’d just woken up from a nap. Probably because she had just woken up from a nap. And he could see how that might make her feel less than bridal.
“You start filling out the online application, I’ll work on organizing the ceremony,” he told her.
Sam: Do you want to go to a wedding?
Jenna: Whose wedding and when?
Sam: Mine. Today.
His phone rang immediately.
“SAM SHOOP, THAT ISN’T FUNNY!” Jenna shrieked.
“I’m not trying to be funny.” Sam took Lacey’s phone when she passed it to him to fill out his portion of the application. “I can explain more soon, but do you think you could play fairy godmother to the bride?”
Jenna squealed. “Yes! When will you be at the hotel?”
“Umm…” Sam looked at the directions on the console. “Forty-five minutes to an hour?”
“I will be ready and waiting,” Jenna said, and squealed again as Sam hung up.
“Who was that?” Lacey asked.
Sam finished his portion of the application, reviewed the answers, and hit submit before passing Lacey back her phone. “Your fairy godmother.”