“Um. That would be—”
“No thank you, young person.” BamBam’s voice came from over my shoulder, causing me to jump about six inches out of my skin. Whipping my head around to face my grandmother, I caught the full force of her very best keep-your-distance glare. “Jamie, why don’t you sit by the window? I’ll take care of the luggage.”
With that, BamBam picked up her suitcase like it was a dish towel and hoisted it overhead while I dove into our row andEthan backed up two steps to get out of swinging distance. For a brief second, he looked at me, a mischievous grin playing across his face that I prayed neither grandma noticed. If they did, this was going to be a very long week for both of us, and I certainly didn’t need that.
I tried to smile back in the noncommittal way strangers in a grocery line smile at each other, then turned to face the window as Ethan moved on.
“Stay away from that boy, baby. He’s probably just as bland and unoriginal as his grandma. You don’t want him to steal your ideas.”
“Okay, BamBam,” I said, making sure I giggled at her joke.
Cute or not, I was going to Las Vegas for work. Ethan was about twelve kinds of distraction that I didn’t need. Not to mention he could potentially get me fired from BamBam’s business or worse. As far as I was concerned, my mission for the next week was to avoid Ethan Wyatt at all costs.
CHAPTER TWO
“Here we are,” BamBam said,tapping her credit card to the cab’s reader. By the time our taxi reached the hotel—BamBam refused to take the hotel shuttle, because Buzzy would be on it—I was both the most comfortable and the least relaxed I’d ever been. I had so much room on the flight over but couldn’t sleep knowing that Buzzy and Ethan were one row back and across the aisle.
Somewhere over Colorado, BamBam reiterated to me in unequivocal terms that I was to avoid “fraternizing with that insipid woman or her young person at all costs.” Of course, that directive didn’t stop my mind from spinning a million scenarios of all the things that could go wrong with those two here. Okay, and one absolutely impossible scenario where Ethan and I became friends and Buzzy and BamBam let their rivalry go. I know, I know. Don’t judge me based on one moment of misplaced optimism.
Dragging our suitcases toward the entrance, I felt a blast of cold air and general overwhelm hit me as soon as the doors to the Stonereel Casino and Resort opened. It was giving exactly what the commercials for Las Vegas promised—upscale and tacky all at once. White marble covered every surface, and a massive chandelier hung in the entryway above an oversized white table with a gigantic yellow orchid growing in a glass dome. But what commercials could never have prepared me for was the sound. A wall of pings and dings from a casino floor I couldn’t even see yet, squeaky suitcase wheels, and helpful employees with chipper voices all trying to get my attention at the same time.
“We’re gonna have some fun this week. You know they have twenty restaurants in this hotel, and I have good luck with pai gow. Grandma is gonna win some walking-around money. Might even share it with you.” BamBam gave me a side squeeze, then, standing up straighter, she added, “Alright. Time to go be Mini.”
I had just enough time to think about how weird it was that my grandma had a semifamous alter ego before a few people began to approach her for pictures. I wheeled our suitcases around and found a spot to film where BamBam wouldn’t be backlit and tried to capture a few seconds of video for her travel-recap post.
I’d taken another two steps to the side to get a clear shot of BamBam’s smile as she gave someone a hug, when a shriek echoed across the lobby.
“Jamie!” Nittha Suparat drew out theesound in my name sothat it was about forty-five syllables long and squeezed me hard enough that she nearly knocked me off balance. “I missed you.”
“Hi, Nittha.” I gasped, trying to free my arms from her death grip so I could hug her back.
“I’m extremely glad you are here. This whole week would have been tragic without you,” she announced to the entire lobby while still holding on to me.
“No one would ever accuse you of hyperbole.” The voice of Gabriela Avila came from somewhere over my shoulder. Craning my neck, I could see Gabby making her way toward us in her trademark black faux-leather miniskirt and combat boots, her usually big, curly reddish-brown hair worked into two French braids. Gabby’s personality was what you’d get if a sass machine married a goth girl and had a baby in Florida. Half Afro-Cuban and half white, the girl never met a black nail polish that she didn’t like. Gabby was a dyslexia-and-reading-differences creator who loved all things vegan-fashion and was currently dabbling in judo. Most importantly, she was the kind of loyal friend who’d help you hide a body even as she told you how stupid you were for being in the situation in the first place. Tapping Nittha, she said, “Let go. You’re hogging Jamie, and I want to hug her now.”
A knot of people watched us, trying to figure out if we were famous enough that they should want to take pictures with us, too. My face got hot, and my friends grinned.
“Still shy. Don’t worry. No one cares about us.” Nittha laughed and waved a hand around dismissively, her hot-pink manicure flashing against the white walls of the lobby. Nittha and I were the same height, but that was about where thesimilarities ended. While I was a quiet, skinny, Midwestern, half-Black, half-white girl from Chicago, she was a spunky, curvy, first-generation Thai American from Los Angeles. Where I was understated and a bit anxious, Nittha was all about bright colors and big, exaggerated emotions. Where I was a straight-A student who went to every class like my life depended on it, Nittha had convinced her parents to let her go to online high school so she and Cricket, her dog-turned-social-media-star, could work whenever and wherever they wanted. As ridiculous as she could be, she was also like sunshine in human form.
When I first started coming to influencer events with BamBam, I kept mostly to myself. Nittha, on the other hand, was a friend-making magnet. She basically wouldn’t leave me alone, until one day, we were legit friends. The following year, she’d done the same thing to Gabby once Gabby had started going to Nittha’s online school during the pandemic. Now our little friend group was like an island in a sea of sometimes-cliquey and drama-filled content creators who we tried to steer clear of.
“Where is Cricket?” I asked, searching for Nittha’s ever-present sixish-year-old one-eyed Yorkie. We didn’t know much about Cricket’s life before Nittha, but whatever it was it couldn’t possibly hold a candle to how spoiled she was now.
“Oops! I left her on the chair when I saw you come in.” Already bouncing back to where she’d left her dog, Nittha asked, “What happened on your flight? Your text sounded dire.”
“I literally texted ‘in the cab with BamBam. Long story, be in the lobby in twenty.’ How is that dire?” I asked Gabby as Nittha wandered out of hearing range to retrieve her dog.
Gabby rolled her eyes, and I tried not to laugh. “You know Nittha. Why read it as a regular, totally innocent message when you can add drama?”
“Here she is!” Nittha appeared at my side, holding up an unfazed Cricket.
“I like the hat.” I glanced down at the dog, who was wearing a giant sun hat, as if dogs, or anyone, really, need to worry about the sun while indoors.
I was scratching Cricket’s chin when I caught sight of BamBam scowling at the sliding glass doors right as Buzzy stepped off the shuttle.
“Uh-oh,” Gabby said, following my gaze.
“Yeah.” I winced as some of the people talking to BamBam realized that Buzzy was also in the lobby. Ethan stepped out behind her.
