The Night Didn't End Right

Malia sighed with relief as she settled into her window seat for her flight from Burbank to Las Vegas. She had to put out last minute fires at work as usual and barely made it to the airport on time. Someone has to be last right? Thankfully her Uber driver got her to the airport with just enough time to make the flight. She was ready to have a fun weekend with her friends who lived there, and forget about life and its problems for a few days. Her boss had generously comped her a room at the Palms Hotel as a thank you for the many recent late nights. Malia mentally tuned out the flight attendant who was giving the requisite in flight demo for emergency procedures. The flight was only about an hour long so she'd take her chances and hope it was as uneventful as it was fast. She looked at her seat mate, a tall, attractive Latin man in his mid to late thirties who reminded her of Ricky Martin in his Livin La Vida Loca heyday. He had the aisle seat and was dressed in a tight black tee, black slacks and an expensive looking black leather jacket complete with a tasteful gold necklace and matching bracelet. No wedding band, not that it meant he really was single considering they were on their way to Vegas. She fervently hoped he was for some odd reason, women had to stick together. The middle seat between them was mercifully empty, surprising considering it was Friday afternoon. Someone had definitely missed their flight, no doubt due to the horrible traffic that all Angelenos had to deal with on the regular. Suddenly her seatmate abruptly answered a call on his iPhone, whispering furtively and quickly. "Zane, calm down, I'm on my way. Yes, yes, I'm on the plane now waiting to take off. Stop freaking out, she might only be G'd out. Stay in the room, don't talk to anyone and stay off your phone. Make sure the Do Not Disburb sign is on the door". Shit, what did she just overhear? Unfortunately for Ricky (her nickname for her seatmate), Malia had preternaturally strong hearing, a skill honed during childhood. She was and always had been excessively nosey. Her interest was definitely piqued waking up her inner Nancy Drew. Suddenly Ricky swiveled his head in her direction. She could feel him shooting daggers at her out of the corner of her eye and acted in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner, just casually playing Words with Friends before turning her cell off. He relaxed in his seat seemingly satisfied she hadn't overheard his call and slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. She silently and quietly exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Thankfully she hadn't been staring in his direction whatsoever. Who knows what could've happened then. Malia had a dozen questions. Was he a Mob or Cartel member who obviously did damage control or clean up? Wait what kind of clean up? Dead bodies? Who was Zane, a rich billionaire or millionaire who took what happens in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas too literally? The flight attendant came by to take their drink orders. She ordered a vodka with cranberry juice to calm her now frayed nerves. Ricky ordered a tequila on the rocks. The hour long flight suddenly felt like an international flight to Australia. Why did this have to happen to her? She was supposed to be relaxing and having fun not trying to solve a mystery, ugh. But there might be a woman in danger, this wasn't something she could simply shrug off and ignore. Think Malia think! Alerting the cops was out of the question considering who this man possibly worked for. The flight landed and Ricky generously took her weekend bag out of the overhead compartment for her. She thanked him then made sure to avoid direct eye contact. He was on his phone again, his own black leather weekend bag in hand. She heard "Bellagio" and made sure to commit it to memory. She rushed to get an Uber to the Bellagio, she could always check in to her own room at the Palms later. She texted Tessa and Rowena letting them know she had landed safely and would settle into her room before making plans to go out later. Feeling alive in a way she hadn't felt in awhile she mused over what she would do when she got to the Bellagio. She tied her long black hair up in a chic, messy bun and put on her black Gucci sunglasses so she could stare to her heart's content without being seen. My God, what did people who stayed here do for a living? The Bellagio was so luxurious, smelled decadent and the water fountain show was so entertaining to watch. She strolled around the lush conservatory gardens mulling over her next course of action. Suddenly she spotted Ricky purposefully walking towards the elevators. She decided she would camp out at the Lily Bar & Lounge where she could see the lobby. He had to come out sooner or later. At least it was Vegas and no one went out early since it was a constant, 24 hour party. Two hours later she was ready to throw in the towel after having had a few drinks and fighting off more than one amorous and lonely older businessman. She spotted Ricky with a small man with a bulbous nose, wild, blond curly hair and a nervous demeanor, obviously Zane. He reminded her of Andy Dick, yuck. His shirt was unbuttoned almost to his navel, double yuck. Also with them was obviously a Las Vegas working girl, looking tired but very much alive despite the smeared makeup. She wore a skimpy dress that was much too tight and revealing even for Sin City at 9 at night in an upscale casino. She had an amazing figure though, Malia had to admit. She walked by and heard Ricky admonishing her to get some rest, eat a good, healthy meal and replenish her electrolytes. She inwardly rolled her eyes considering he had seemed ready to be Dead Hooker Cleanup for Zane. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas! Malia was supremely relieved there wasn't a dead body for Ricky to dispose of. Now onto her girls weekend fun and to forgetting about Ricky.