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“Thanks. So, Peyton knows about me?” I ask.
“Only what we’ve read about you on the internet. She doesn’t remember Vegas and well, kinda is avoiding the fact that you guys are married.”
“So she knows?”
“Knows what?” her friend asks.
“About getting married in Vegas.” I’m losing my patience.
“Oh that, yes. She doesn’t remember anything and you know what happens in Vegas stays there and all.” She waves her hand to dismiss the whole thing. “Wait, you know about Peyton?” she stops.
“Is… um… Peyton here?” I ask following her inside the small apartment looking around at the space.
It’s a mixture of chaos and organization. There’s a large couch facing a bookshelf with a small television. The kitchen is a galley kitchen with multi-colored cabinets and a small circular dining table off to the side.
The woman who opened the door and let me in is running around the small space picking up random things and shoving them all into a closet just inside the hallway that likely leads to the bedrooms.
“You’re looking for Peyton? Aww, that’s so cute.” She shuts the door and approaches me clasping her hands together in front of her.
“Well, yeah. And you are?” I ask her.
“Oh, I’m horrible. My name is Quinn. Pey and I are roommates.”
“So, Peyton?”
“Oh, she’s went to the store right quick.”
“How long do you think she will be?”
“She’s, um, been gone for a bit, so I wouldn’t think too much longer?” the woman says looking anxious.
“Do you mind if I stick around?” I ask.
“Not at all. Have a seat,” she points over to the small table and moves toward it.
“Thank you. So, did we meet previously?” I ask, feeling embarrassed that I have to ask the question.
“Yes and no. You were pretty zeroed in on Peyton. I did more talking with one of your other friends, but you and I didn’t have much interaction. So, you must have been pretty loaded too? You don’t remember getting married?” She asks talking a mile a minute.
“Wait, were you there?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, Hanna and I went to get drinks and use the ladies’ room, and then when we came back, you two were gone. We tried to get ahold of her, but she turned her phone off, or something.”
I run my hand over my face. At least neither of our friends were witnesses to this whole thing.
“Are you here to whisk her off and away, like Prince Charming?”
I scoff at the idea.
I don’t whisk women away.
“To be truthful,” What am I doing here? “I’m here to get down to the bottom of whatever this is. I’m not sure what happened that night in Las Vegas, but I’m pretty sure that I didn’t intend to come home married to a stranger.”
“She doesn’t remember either, remember?” She pulls out a chair and leans toward me with her chin in her palm, a doe-eyed gaze and smiles.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re so much better looking that the internet shows.”
