If At First

Part 3 - Chapter 2

My phone was in its natural place on the bookshelf in the den, so while Danni was busy calling her parents to let them know where to find the car, I tromped through the mud, regrettably having worn my favorite shoes, as fast as I could to call a cab at the gas station.

We missed our flight, but were able to make the next one by just nano-seconds. Not the best start to our amazing weekend plan, but at least we didn't blow the trip completely.

We landed at McCarran and made our way off the plane to baggage claim to arrange for a car. Danni and I stood waiting for our luggage, when I glanced up to notice Gas-Station-guy strolling past. He was heading toward one of the limos outside, followed by a uniformed lackey carrying his bags. My stomach jumped up into my throat as I spun away from his line of sight, my eyes darting around for something to hide behind.

"What's with you?" Danni asked, "You have crazy-eyes. Stop that."

I looked in her direction without turning my head. "It's Gas-station-guy!" I half-whispered.

"Where!" She nearly shouted. A few people standing near us turned to stare before being distracted by the beeping of the luggage carousel.

"Sshhh!! Over there!" I pointed over my shoulder. "Blue-gray shirt, awesome body, tall. How do you not see him?"

Danni looked around for a few seconds. Then her expression sobered and returned to me. "He's not here Tabby. From what Tommy said, a guy like that's not hanging around a public airport like a regular person."

"What? Why not?" I asked and shook my head, "Shut up, I swear it's him." I came away from my not-so-discreet hiding spot to point him out. "He's right...over..." I broke off, searching the crowd but not seeing him. "Well, he was here a second ago. Maybe he got into the..." I began, but stopped when I saw the expression on Danni's face. "What?"

"You can't be insane this weekend."

"Fine," I smiled, "But it was totally him."

We found our bags, the only ones left revolving, and located the desk to call the car service to take us to the Four Seasons.

I was already well acquainted with the other bridesmaids. Two of them were our college roommates. At the time it had been an accident that Danni and I weren't rooming together, but it worked out in our favor since we met Maggie and Becca. The four of us got along famously. We called ourselves "the Quad", because that's the kind of thing people do when no one else wants to hang out with you.

And I knew Danni's cousins Karen and Thumper because whenever their family was in town for a visit we would all play together. Thumper's name was actually Sara, but the nickname stuck when we were kids and she would stand with her arms crossed, tapping her foot every time she was upset. Which happened frequently as she was a few years younger, quite a few pounds heavier, and had a hard time keeping up.

So when we met again there were no awkward silences. The four of them had more than enough time to share a few drinks and declare their love for one another while waiting for Danni and I to arrive. After explaining why we were late and why my forehead was a lovely shade of purple, we found a good spot by the pool, frou-frou drinks in hand, and began clucking away about the wedding and how beautiful Danni would be.

About twenty minutes in, the dry heat with only a margarita and this morning's coffee in my system, I developed a nasty headache that needed to be disposed of ASAP. I excused myself to get some Excedrin and hopefully food and water from room service.

"You okay Tabby?" Danni asked.

"Fine, I'll be right back." I smiled. "I'm just gonna grab some water."

I stood, and my head spun.
I took a step, and my vision blurred.
Bluish blotches crowded my path.

I was more than a little nauseated, so I hurried to the door leading to the air-conditioning, knowing the relief would be instant. Once inside, the rush of cool air soothed my baking skin but did nothing for the spinning. I sat down in the nearest chair to reclaim some degree of equilibrium. The attack had been so sudden, I was having a hard time deciding how to fix it. My head spun and indistinct faces swam across the room. I couldn't tell if they actually looked at me or not, but for the moment I didn't care.

It occurred to me that I left my purse upstairs in the room. Crap. I was either going to have to go up and get it, or sit here and die. I contemplated the dying option. From where I sat I could see an elevator. All I had to do was walk over, push a button, remain upright and not throw up. I could do this. Breathe. Don't throw up.

NormallyI would feel self-conscious crossing a hotel lobby in a bikini: instead myattention was only on the elevator. I noticed blurry heads turning blurry facesas I passed. Don't throw up. Don't throwup. I must look like hell. Just don'tthrow up. I approached the elevator and the doors were thankfully open. Istood for a moment, holding on to the doorway and staring at the floor, tryingto make the pattern on it stop floating. There were only two other sets of feetwaiting inside. I would have preferred it to be empty, but supposed two wasbetter than a crowd. The fewer witnesses the better. I made it inside andreached to push the button for my floor. I don't remember actually pushing it, butas the elevator lurched to ascend, my knees gave out and everything went blackbefore I could feel the pain of hitting the ground.