So, on the last weekend of the next month, Car and I flew to Vegas in her jet. We checked in at the hotel where the preview would be. Chellen Cosmetics had booked me a one-bedroom suite and there were flowers and fruit baskets everywhere. There was also an invitation to dinner that night at nine in the roof-top restaurant of this place. Dress code was described as Casual Chic.
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.
“It means you can wear whatever you want as long as it looks expensive.”
“Like a cashmere suit with a T-shirt?”
“Exactly.”
The suite was very opulent and superbly furnished. It almost rivaled Car’s yacht.
“Not bad,” Car commented as she looked around. “It looks like I’m going to have to get used to being the queen’s consort.”
“Honey,” I said as I wrapped my arms around
