Tate whistles at the number: it’s larger than their usual.
Joey continues. "Kacie, I was wondering, is there any kind of discount for a large party? Because with the divorce, things have been tight, you know?"
Joey told me about his ongoing divorce at our last party. He'd caught his wife sleeping with an old flame from college. Apparently, she'd never stopped loving him. Now, because they didn't have a prenup, they had to split everything down the middle. Joey didn't care too much about that, but they had two kids. He was fighting for them.
"Don't worry. We'll make it work. You'll get the Hitched Frequent Customer Discount." Something I just pulled out of my ass, but whatever.
"Ah, thanks, Kacie. You’re a doll."
We hang up, and I go into the kitchen for something to eat while Tate starts typing on his laptop. "Kacie, there's no way in hell we're going to get a tank for these guys, you know that right?"
"I know." I find some cheese and crackers. Good enough.
"So what's the plan?" he asks, still googling the impossible.
"The plan is to create an adventure that will make him forget about tanks and Russia and remember why he loves us and Las Vegas so much."
Vi heads to the kitchen for coffee. "You're too good to these people. I could never do your job."
"I'm pretty sure I could never do yours either," I say, thinking about what it must be like to work as a Dominatrix. "Oh, I nearly forgot!" I leave the food on the counter and run to the closet by our front door to pull out a bag. "I bought stuff for my super stealthy plan to put Hitched on the celebrity map!"
Tate rolls his eyes. "This is so lame, Kacie. The cheese factor is at stench level."
I stick my tongue out at him. "You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."
I dump everything onto the coffee table and start assembling my masterpiece.
Vi comes back in and sits next to me. "What's this?"
"It's Kacie's latest 'business plan,’" Tate says, using air quotes.
"Shut up, Tate. Until you come up with something better, we're doing this." I turn to Vi to explain as I hold up a toy car. "You heard the news that David Melton's getting married, right?"
Her eyes light up. "Melton, as in the famous magician who performs at the Wynn? The guy who literally disappeared, without any props, live in front of thousands of people?"
"That's the one!"
"He's getting married? That bastard! He's my magical goth-rock-star-celebrity husband. He just doesn't know it yet," Vi says, fanning herself dramatically.
"You'll have to fight his fiancée for him."
"I'm a patient woman. I can wait for the divorce."
I laugh. "And such a romantic. Anyways, I want Hitched to land his bachelor party. So… I'm sending him a basket with little gifts that represent my ideas for his party, along with a handwritten note pitching him my idea. I did some research, and he's a huge fan of Michael Schwartz, the racecar driver, and loves race cars. So I'm including miniature high-end cars, a helicopter, handcuffs, champagne, whipped cream and a few other trinkets. The plan is to host his party on the roof of the Wynn and have a helicopter pick him and a few of his closest friends up to take them to the tracks to race. What I'm really hoping is that I can get Schwartz himself to show up. But I'm not promising that yet, since it's not a done deal."
I add the finishing touches to the basket, and then I tuck my card, our brochure, and the letter I wrote inside and wrap it up. "Voila!"
Vi examines the basket. "I like it. I think it's clever and fun and unique. I have a good feeling about this."
I flip Tate off and smile. "See? This is going to work. Melton will be blown away, he'll book us, we'll rock his world, and he'll tell all his celebrity friends about us. It's going to launch us onto the next rung of the business ladder," I insist.
"Want me to deliver it? I'll be driving by the Wynn today, and I know some people there who can help make sure it gets to him," Vi says, standing and grabbing her purse.
"Oh, that would be great. Thank you!" I hand her the basket and kiss her cheek. "You're the best."
She tosses her hair over her shoulder. "I know. But it's good to be reminded."
As Vi heads out, she runs into a deliveryman coming up the stairs. "Someone's got a package," Vi hollers as she walks away. "I wonder who it could be from."
Don't judge me for the butterflies I get in my stomach. You know you'd get them too if there was any possibility that the hot guy you spent the night with had just sent you something. Not that he has. I'm sure it's just… a mistake or wrong address or something.
When I get to the door, a man is standing there with a long white box wrapped in thick red ribbon. "Miss Michaels?"
"That's me."