For just a moment, nothing else mattered.
Not the unfamiliar hotel room.
Not the ache behind my eyes.
Not the heavy, unsettling weight of my mistakes.
Just the warmth spreading through my chest, the steady comfort of caffeine working a quiet miracle.
The panic that had been circling me since I’d opened my eyes softened a bit at the edges, retreating just enough to give me space to think.
Coffee didn’t fix things, I knew that, but it helped make them feel just a tad more survivable.
I finished my cup and got another to go, knowing it was going to be a day that required caffeine constantly circling my bloodstream.
Then I made my way to the front desk.
“Could I possibly use the phone?” I asked. “I can’t find mine.”
“Of course,” the man said, giving me an understanding smile.
And, God, I hated being a Vegas cliché.
But there was no mistaking it.
So I reached for the phone and plugged in my number.
“What…” I said when my ringtone sounded from somewhere behind the desk.
The clerk reached under, pulling out a phone in a familiar black and red case.
“Oh, thank God,” I said, practically lunging at it.
That was two things off my list.
Next up?
Food.
After food, I was reasonably sure I could handle the lawyer and all their uncomfortable questions.
I made my way through the casino, ignoring all the many options for food.
I’d eaten at just about all of them in my day. None of them offered what someone dealing with a major hangover needed.
Grease.
All the deep-fried greasy goodness.
That was the only thing that worked for me.
So I made my way out of the casino and nearly cried at the desert sun pelting down on me.
On a grumble, I made my way back inside and up, stopping at the sunglass store, grabbing a pair, then making my way back down.
“Why is everything a pain in the ass today?” I grumbled to myself as I made my way back outside.
Fast food was never hard to find, and the scent of greasy fries met my nose as soon as I let myself inside and made a beeline for the counter.
