‘Thank you,’ I mouth to Matteo.
We make our way to the lifts with a few hundred other people.
‘It’s like Piccadilly Circus in here,’ remarks Big Sue. ‘There’s the big love sign over there. The rendezvous point.’
‘Ten minutes in the room,’ Big Mand reminds us. ‘Rendezvous point in an hour.’
‘A lot can happen in ten minutes,’ Tash says, winking at Sister Kevin, who looks shattered. Totally wiped out. He watched back-to-back gory films all the way here and is dead on his feet. He nods obediently.
When the lift arrives, we wait for it to empty and pile in. Our cases are being delivered to our rooms on the twenty-seventh floor.
‘We’ll be spending most of the week in lifts, by the looks of things,’ moans Cherry. I’d almost forgotten she was with us. As the primary complainer of the group, she has been exceptionally quiet. She has dark circles beneath her eyes and her pillar-box-red ponytail is now sitting to the side of her head, streaks of make-up still visible on her cheeks. She, too, looks shattered. Only Liberty and Tash have a sense of energy about them. I let out a huge yawn, very much regretting my suggestion to stay awake, and quickly stop as Big Mand swoops round.
‘NO!’ she shouts. ‘No yawning, people. We stay awake. Gottit?’
We nod unhappily.
‘Come on,’ murmurs Matteo in my ear as the lift eventually stops at our floor. ‘I’ll help you stay awake.’
We walk the twisty corridors, carpeted in luxurious, thick swirly patterns. Murals on the walls. Distant Italian music crooning through the pipes. You’d think we were in Italy.
Finally, the Dollz disappear into their rooms, leaving Matteo and me to walk to our room at the end of the long corridor. I gasp as he opens the door.
‘Oh, my God. It’s gorgeous!’ I take in the sumptuous lavishness of the suite. The opulence of the décor, the furniture. I’m drawn to the massive bed. ‘Wow.’
Matteo sounds pleased with himself. ‘You like it?’
‘Love it. Look at that view!’ I yell, racing over to the window. The whole of Las Vegas is spread out before us. He stands behind me, his hands gentle on my shoulders.
‘Good,’ he says simply. ‘Maybe it’s best if you don’t tell the Dollz that I upgraded our room.’
‘Agreed,’ I say, stifling yet another yawn. I want to kiss him so badly, but I can barely stay awake. I should kiss him now before I fall asleep standing up. I tilt my head back, thrusting my lips towards his. ‘Thank you so much. It’s beautiful. I love it.’
We take a moment to gaze at each other. This is all so surreal. Me. Him. Las Vegas. Two months ago, I was single, miserable, unemployed and living in Newcastle with all of my dreams shattered to pieces. Now, I’m a semi-professional singer working three jobs and living between two countries. And I’m in the arms of my dream man.
‘I’m really sorry about Birdie,’ he says, pointing to the still damp stain on my dress.
‘I can handle it,’ I say, pulling him to me. He gives me a grateful look as I snake my arms around his neck. ‘How about we get me out of these wet things?’
Just as his lips are about to touch mine, his phone rings. He glances at the screen, his mouth forming a tight line before he answers. ‘Birdie? What’s up?’
Christ. It’s like she was eavesdropping.
‘Uh-huh.’ Matteo listens intently. He steps away from me to stare out of the window, a serious expression on his face. I stare at his back, the way his T-shirt hugs his taut frame. His biceps casually straining at the hems of the short sleeves. One hand in his shorts pocket, the other holding his phone to his ear. His long, lean legs standing slightly apart. Powerful is what he is. Confident. Casual. Not jet-lagged. ‘Well, tell them to shove it. We’re not obliged to redo anything.’ He puts a hand over the phone to mouth,Sorry.
Birdie hasn’t wasted any time in keeping us from doing anything we shouldn’t in our rooms. I try to keep the disappointment from my face.
Matteo lowers his voice before saying, ‘Hang on a moment.’ I catch a subtle hint of spice and vanilla musk as he strides past me to the door. He points outside and I realise he needs to talk privately with her. My mood plummets.It’s not ideal but what can I do?
‘I might just have a super-quick shower,’ I say quietly, heading to the bathroom. I have ten minutes before Big Mand thumps on our door to freshen up and change into my other Barbie outfit. One that hopefully fits. And this wig is so hot and sweaty. I can’t believe I travelled all this way in it. My hair is a flat, tangled nest underneath. I only hope that Matteo doesn’t walk in to find me looking like a tired old scarecrow. I strip off, flinging my clothes and wig to the bathroom floor, and walk into the spacious shower. There is a shelf lined with lotions of all kinds, designed to relax, energise, calm and invigorate. I pick up a heavy glass jar full of expensive-smelling green shower gel designed to revitalise. There is a matching face mask to go with it. To achieve deep penetration, it is best left on the skin for a maximum of two minutes. The Americans think of everything, don’t they? I breathe in the luxurious lemon and heather smell and pump lashings of the thick gel out over my body. This could be just what I need to combat the fatigue.
I peer once more at my tired reflection, now covered in swamp algae. Just as I reach out to replace the jar on the shelf, I jump at the sound of knocking at the door.
‘Are you busy, or can I come in?’ Matteo says as the jar slips from my grasp to crash loudly and expensively to the shower floor. He bursts through the door. ‘Connie?’ His mouth gapes open as he takes in the sight before him.
I let out a blood-curdling scream in response.
‘What in the name of kinky fuck is going on here?’ booms a voice behind him. Big Mand is standing in the doorway with her arms folded and a huge grin on her face.
