Lost in Las Vegas Read online

  “Okay,” said DJ, actually feeling eager. “I’ll just pretend like I’m going to the dance too.”

  “Who knows,” said Casey, “maybe we’ll change your mind.”

  “Or maybe just talk you into a new pair of shoes,” teased Taylor.

  So off they headed to the mall. For a while DJ pretended she, like them, was getting ready for the dance. She even held up some dresses and imagined she was going.

  “Oh, DJ,” said Taylor as DJ held up a garnet-red sequined number. “That is really hot.” She shook her head. “And most people say blondes can’t wear red.”

  “Well, I’m just a dishwater blonde,” DJ reminded her.

  “Why don’t you just go?” demanded Taylor. “If it makes you feel better, send Haley a note to explain it. Sheesh, she’s in therapy anyway. It might give her something to talk about during one of her group sessions.”

  DJ couldn’t help but laugh. Still, it seemed mean.

  “Seriously, DJ. You might be doing her a favor. Kind of a reality check. I mean, it’s about time Haley figured out that, even though she tried to kill herself, she can’t control other people. If a guy doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t like you. Get over it already.”

  DJ considered this. As harsh as it sounded, it was probably true. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Look, DJ,” said Taylor. “I know you’re trying to be nice — the goody-good girl. But have you considered the possibility that you’re just being codependent?”

  “Huh?”

  “You actually have some codependent traits.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, your desire to keep everyone happy and — ”

  “I do not try to keep everyone happy.”

  Taylor laughed. “That’s right. You usually try to make me miserable.”

  “I do not.”

  “See,” said Taylor, like that proved her point.

  DJ felt confused.

  “All I’m saying is that you and Conner go tiptoeing around, pretending you’re not dating so that you can protect Haley’s delicate feelings while she’s in the loony bin. And you think you’re helping her? What happens when she’s back in the real world and you and Conner, say, want to go to the prom? Do you blame yourselves if Haley gets hurt and goes and jumps off a bridge? Will you forever be responsible for Haley and the choices she makes?”

  “That does sound a little creepy . . . when you put it like that.”

  “It sounds unhealthy and codependent to me.”

  “So?”

  “So, stop it!”

  DJ pulled out her phone and hit Conner’s speed dial. “Conner,” she said in a firm voice, “do you still want to take me to the Winter Ball?”

  “Of course.”

  So she quickly replayed what Taylor had just said, and Conner actually laughed. “Well, I can’t believe that the roommate from hell tells you what I’ve been saying to you for weeks, but you listen to her and not to me.”

  “Sorry,” said DJ. “Sometimes God works in mysterious ways.”

  Taylor frowned at her with arms folded across her chest and toe tapping.

  “Anyway, if you’re okay, I’m okay,” said DJ. “But I plan to write Haley a little note to let her know what’s up. I think it’ll just be kind of like an I’m-thinking-of-you sort of email, and then I’ll casually mention that we’re going to the dance next weekend. Does that sound okay?”

  “I don’t think you even need to do that much, DJ.”

  “I just want to.”

  “Yeah, that’s one of the things I like about you.”

  She smiled. “Okay, then . . . sounds like it’s a date.”

  “You bet!”

  “By the way, my dress is red.”

  “Right. Does that mean I need a red tux?”

  DJ laughed and whispered to Taylor, “Conner just asked me if he needs to get a red tux.”

  Taylor snatched the phone. “Not red, you idiot.” Then she told him specifically what he needed and where to get it before she handed the phone back to DJ.

  “Sorry about that,” DJ told Conner.

  “No, it’s actually helpful. But I probably should’ve been taking notes.”

  “I’m sure Taylor can write it down for you.”

  “Guess I can tell the guys to put me down for the stretch limo now. Harry’s already ordered a Hummer.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” said Conner. “This will be our first real date in a long time.”

  “Date?” DJ echoed, as the meaning of the word sank in.

  “Well, it is, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah . . .” she nodded slowly. “I guess so.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Yeah . . . I’m just getting used to the idea.”

  “Have fun shopping.”

  “Thanks.” DJ hung up and looked at Taylor. “I guess we’re going.”

  “Of course you’re going.” Taylor shoved the red dress at her. “Now, try this on. I think it’s your size, but I’ll grab a couple of others just in case.”

  After several tries, DJ found the perfect fit. When she came out to show Taylor, a couple other shoppers paused to look. Everyone agreed that it was perfect. DJ spun around. “It feels so good to be in a dress like this without a big old cast on my foot.”

  Taylor laughed and explained to the bystanders that DJ had recently recovered from a broken leg.

  “You look stunning,” said the sales woman. “Do you want me to start writing it up for you?”

  DJ paused. “Oh, I didn’t even look at the price.”

  “Just put it on Granny’s account,” ordered Taylor.

  “But I — ”

  “Trust me,” said Taylor. “If necessary, I’ll do the explaining. But I know that your grandmother would want you to have this dress, Desiree!”

  “Yes, Desiree,” said the saleswoman, “I’m sure she would.”

  But while Taylor was taking the dress up to the counter, DJ called her grandmother and quickly explained. “And Taylor insists it’s the perfect dress,” she said finally, “but I think it’s a bit ex — ”

  “If Taylor says it’s perfect, it’s perfect,” proclaimed Grandmother. “And I’m so pleased to hear you’re going to the Winter Ball, Desiree. I didn’t want to say anything or make you feel bad, but I was terribly disappointed when I heard you hadn’t been invited.”

  DJ almost pointed out that she had been invited, but then she realized it would make no difference. Grandmother, as usual, would draw her own conclusions. Why bother? “Thanks, Grandmother,” she said brightly. “And now I’ll need shoes and — ”

  “Of course, you will. Ask Taylor to help you with those too. Her taste is as impeccable as her looks.”

  “Okay . . .” What Grandmother didn’t know never failed to astonish DJ. Still, everyone knew that Taylor was Grandmother’s prize pony.

  “The secondhand store shoppers just called,” said Taylor after the saleswoman put the dress on Mrs. Carter’s account and handed over the sleek garment bag. “I told them the good news and that it’ll take us at least an hour to snag the other things you’ll need.”

  “They were okay with that?”

  “Sure. Rhiannon said they’d just grab the metro back to town.”

  “They didn’t mind using public transportation?”

  “You know those two.” Taylor shook her head. “The grittier it gets, the happier they are.”

  “Did they find what they’re looking for?”

  “Sounded like it.” Taylor hurried DJ along. “And I just remembered seeing a great pair of shoes several shops back. I think they’ll be perfect with that dress.”

  “Grandmother knew you would.”

  Taylor looked curiously at DJ and then laughed. “Well, of course!”

  By the time they finished, DJ was starving. “Let’s get something at the food court,” she urged Taylor. “I’m craving real food.”

  Taylor looked l
ike she was going to turn up her nose, but then she noticed the new Japanese place. “I could go for sushi.”

  “No,” said DJ, pulling Taylor by the arm. “I mean real food.

  You’ve been bossing me around the fashion arena; I’m going to boss you around the cuisine arena. We’re having pasta.”

  “Pasta?” Taylor’s eyes lit up.

  “Yeah. And, trust me, we’ve done enough walking and shopping that you don’t need to worry about the calories.”

  So they didn’t. As they sat there slurping up linguini with pesto, DJ thought there might be hope for them yet. After all, hadn’t this been a fairly normal shopping trip? Just two friends out getting ready for the Winter Ball? Yet DJ knew Taylor well enough to know that Taylor could pull the rug out from under her at any given moment. While that was kind of exciting — in an adrenaline rush sort of way — it was also a little frightening.

  3

  “SHOW AND TELL,” said Eliza as soon as DJ and Taylor came into the house with their arms loaded up with bags.

  “What?” Taylor frowned at Eliza.

  “Come on,” urged Eliza in her southern singsong voice. “Show and tell.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes. “In your dreams.”

  “But I showed you girls my dress on Sunday night,” she protested.

  “Showed off, don’t you mean?” Taylor just kept walking up the stairs.

  “Come on, DJ,” urged Eliza. “Don’t you want to show us your dress? We already know that you’re going to the dance.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Your grandmother,” Kriti informed. “At dinner.”

  “So you’ve decided that Haley can just go take a flying leap?” teased Eliza.

  “No. I realized that I was doing her no favors by sparing her from the truth.” DJ looked up the stairs. Taylor was already in their room. “My roommate helped me to see the light.”

  Eliza laughed loudly.

  Now Rhiannon and Casey looked down the stairs. “Did you find a dress?” called down Rhiannon.

  “Yes, but she won’t let us see it,” Eliza called back up.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “So, can we see?” asked Eliza hopefully.

  “I’ll think about it,” said DJ. Then she ran up the stairs.

  “We’re watching a chick flick down here,” said Kriti. “If you’re interested.”

  “Thanks,” said DJ. “But I have homework.”

  “And we’re designing,” called Rhiannon.

  “So we’ve heard,” Eliza called back. “Not that we’re interested. Are we, Kriti? Who cares what everyone else in the house is wearing. We know that we’ll look great.”

  DJ couldn’t help but laugh as she went up the stairs. Why was it so vital for Eliza to know what everyone else was wearing? Of course, DJ knew the answer to this. It’s like everything was a competition with that girl. A competition where Eliza Wilton had to come out on top.

  DJ had already seen Eliza’s dress. At first she thought it was a wedding gown. “So Harry decided to make you an honest woman,” Taylor had teased. Eliza had just glared at her. But there was no denying the dress was pretty — in a confectionery sort of way. All sparkly white and fitted, and Eliza did look like a princess in it — albeit a Barbie princess. No surprises there since Eliza seemed to think she reigned.

  And Kriti looked like a nice little lady-in-waiting to Princess Eliza. DJ thought the red gown didn’t do much for Kriti’s shape. Not that Kriti had a bad shape. But the velvet seemed heavy and awkward, and it didn’t flatter Kriti who was much shorter than the other girls and not as slender. Mostly it seemed that the dress overwhelmed her. But Eliza had proclaimed it perfect. And for a handmaid, it probably was. Poor Kriti. Still, she seemed happy with her lot in life — catering to Eliza.

  “Want a sneak peek?” whispered Rhiannon once DJ was at the second-floor landing.

  “Of you guys?”

  “Yeah, but we’d like to see your dress too.”

  “Sure.” DJ slipped into their room, unzipping her bag to reveal the scrumptious gown.

  “That’s gorgeous,” said Rhiannon with an affirming nod. “Really, really beautiful.”

  “Swanky,” teased Casey.

  DJ frowned.

  “But pretty,” Casey said quickly.

  “Thanks. Now, show me what you guys put together.” DJ looked around the messy room. Rhiannon’s sewing machine was still out, and there were pieces of dresses and scarves and fabric strewn all about. “It’s certainly interesting in here.”

  Rhiannon went over to her sewing machine and lifted up what appeared to be a pile of varying shades of green fabric. But when she held it up, it looked like an incredible creation. “What do you think?” she asked hopefully.

  “I think it’s fantastic, Rhiannon.” DJ went closer to examine it. Although it was constructed of all different types of green fabrics, scarves, ribbons, beads, and trims, the dress didn’t look goofy or homemade. “It’s amazing.”

  “Isn’t it?” said Casey with pride. “I can’t believe she made this from scrap.”

  “From recycled dresses and blouses and whatever I could find that worked,” said Rhiannon.

  “You could sell clothes like this,” said DJ.

  “And you don’t need to worry about anyone wearing the same dress,” added Casey.

  Rhiannon laughed. “For sure.”

  “Hold it up,” urged DJ.

  Rhiannon held it in front of her, and the rich green tones against her pale skin and vibrant red hair looked absolutely stunning.

  “I can’t imagine anything more beautiful,” said DJ. “It’s perfect.”

  “I told her she looks like a Celtic goddess,” said Casey.

  “It’s certainly magical. It reminds me of Ireland . . . or fairies.”

  “Thanks so much, you guys!” Rhiannon was beaming now. “It’s kind of hard, you know, not having money like some people and trying to keep up with . . . well, everyone.”

  “There’s no need to keep up with me,” said Casey.

  “What are you wearing, Case?” DJ turned to look at her.

  “Just like I said.” Casey opened her closet and pulled out something that looked like a cross between a string corset and a multi-ruffled petticoat. “And I’ll wear my black motorcycle jacket and fishnets and boots. You know, the rocking retro thing.”

  “Eliza’s going to love this,” teased DJ.

  “I think that’s why she’s doing it.” Rhiannon gave a slight frown. “Just to get Eliza’s goat.”

  “And to express my individuality,” proclaimed Casey.

  “You’ll both be one of a kind,” said DJ. And a part of her wished that she’d used more ingenuity for her own gown. But, to be fair, creativity was not her strong suit. And she’d always been fashion-challenged.

  As DJ zipped her gown back into the bag, Casey chuckled. “With you in that dress, Princess Eliza will probably be pea green with envy.”

  “I doubt that,” said DJ. “But it’s fun making her wait.”

  “Princess Eliza needs to learn that she doesn’t rule Carter House,” proclaimed Casey defiantly.

  “Yeah,” agreed DJ, “This isn’t Eliza-lot.”

  Rhiannon laughed.

  “Thanks for showing me your dresses.” DJ headed for the door.

  “You promise you won’t show Eliza?” Casey peered at her.

  DJ shrugged. “Don’t know why I should.”

  Casey gave her a thumbs-up.

  Of course, DJ felt slightly guilty. It’s not like she specifically wanted to be mean or to exclude Eliza. But sometimes Eliza was so pushy. Oh, she’d do it in that sweet southern style. But it felt pushy all the same. Knowing that Eliza’s parents were from one of the wealthiest families in the country didn’t make it any easier to be nice. And, really, this wasn’t Eliza-lot!

  “Did you see Rhiannon and Casey’s dresses?” Taylor asked with mild interest, not even looking up from her fashion rag.

  �
��Yeah.” DJ hung her dress in the closet. “Rhiannon’s is spectacular.”

  “Really?” Taylor set the magazine aside.

  “Like it-could-be-in-a-movie spectacular.”

  Taylor’s brow creased slightly. “Maybe we should pay the girl to start designing for us.”

  DJ picked up her laptop and then sat on her bed. “You know, that’s not a bad idea, Taylor.”

  “We’d have our own designer originals, and Rhiannon could make money for college.”

  DJ stared at Taylor in wonder. “Sometimes you blow my mind, Taylor.”

  Taylor looked surprised. “Huh?”

  “You can be . . . kind of mean sometimes . . . and then surprisingly nice.”

  Taylor just shrugged, then returned to her magazine. “We all have our faults.”

  DJ laughed and opened her laptop. “I guess.”

  Before DJ started her homework, she decided to write Haley the promised note. She and Haley had emailed a few times (not daily) since Haley had gone to Oak View for treatment.

  After a few rewrites, DJ felt like the note had just the right tone to it. Light and encouraging, but honest and to the point. She read through it one more time.

  Hey, Haley. I hope you’re doing well. Life around here is pretty much the same. School is boring. Finals are impending. And everyone is counting down the days to Christmas break. Everyone but me that is, since all I get to do is stick around Carter House with my grandmother. Big thrill. I just wanted you to know (from me and not someone else) that I’m going to the Winter Ball with Conner next Saturday. The main reason I decided to go was because he felt left out since all his friends were going. And I suppose I felt left out too. I wish you were around so you could go too. I know there are dozens of guys who would jump at the chance to take you! And I hope it’s not upsetting for you to hear that Conner and I are going to this dance together. I know you said that it’s over between you two. But I don’t want to make you feel sad. Catch ya later.

  Love, DJ.

  DJ said a quick prayer for Haley, then hit Send. Taylor was right, she told herself as she switched gears to homework. This might be one more step in Haley getting over it. And if it wasn’t, well, wouldn’t it be better for Haley to be where she had professional help anyway? Still, DJ decided this would be even more motivation to keep praying for Haley. She really did want her to get well — and soon. Hopefully Haley would be back to normal and back to school after winter break.