Chapter 11

Beth cashed in their chips. She took the ‘loose change’ in cash—over fourteen thousand dollars—and took a check for the remaining five hundred and fifty thousand. Rather than going to a bar, they went to the most expensive restaurant in the hotel, where they spent two hundred dollars on a bottle of vintage champagne and almost a thousand dollars in total.

After they finished off dessert, Chris filled their glasses with the last of the champagne and held his glass up. “A toast—”

“Isn’t that supposed to come at the start of the meal?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really.” Beth lifted her own glass.

“Good. Actually, it’s not so much a toast. Just something I wanted to say.”

“Go on.”

“Beth, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt the way I do tonight.”

“You mean rich?”

He laughed. “No. Not rich. I mean happy. These past few days have been amazing. I came over here to be with you because you were going through hell. But I’ve ended up falling in love with you.”

“Falling in love with me? You mean you weren’t before you got here? Even after two years of talking to me every day?”

“Chatting on the Internet isn’t the same. I knew I cared about you. And I suppose I did love you. I just didn’t know it then. But I do now.”

“Awww, Chris, that’s so sweet. I’ve known I loved you for ages. I just never expected I’d ever get any more from you than words on the screen. I’d resigned myself to that. I’m so glad I got more.” She leaned across the table and kissed him.

Chris put his glass down. “Do you think you could go back to the way it was before? Back to a virtual relationship?”

“No,” she said, emphatically. “At least, I don’t want to.”

“Me neither.”

“But we don’t have a choice. Do we? You’re going back to England.”

“I know. And I’m dreading it. I don’t want to leave you. Not yet. Not ever.”

“Then don’t.” Beth put her glass on the table.

“Stay here. With me.”

“I wish I could. But my job is over there, not here.”

“So quit. We’ve just won half a million dollars. I’m sure that’d see us through until you find something here. Which you will—you’re a financial whiz. Aren’t you?”

“But will they let me stay? Don’t I need permission or something?”

“A green card. You’ll need a green card.”

“And how do I get one?”

Beth squealed. “We could get married!”

“What?”

“Let’s get married. Tonight.”

“Here?”

“Why not? This is Vegas. Come on, let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

Chris thought for a moment. He wanted to, but could he? Should he? Was it even possible? He smiled as he thought of the possibilities. He looked up at his would-be-bride’s wide eyes and a huge grin. What was he doing? Were they really going to do get married? He shook his head and grinned. He knew he must look stupid—like a teenager at a disco whose girlfriend had just offered to sneak outside and give him a blowjob.

He shrugged. “Okay. Let’s do it. Why not?”

“I can’t think of any reasons.” Beth laughed, grabbed his hand, squeezed it tightly and then let it loose. She turned from the table and waved. “Waiter!” she called. “Could we get the check, please? Oh, and can you recommend a wedding chapel?”

“We have a chapel right here in the hotel, miss,” the waiter said.

“Really? Is it nice? Or is it some tacky place?”

“Miss, this is Vegas. Our chapels aren’t the least bit tacky.” The waiter’s expression told them both he wasn’t serious. “Except maybe the Elvis chapels. You’d have to be crazy to get married in one of those.”

He scurried away to get the check. Beth paid cash and left the waiter a five hundred dollar tip.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” asked Chris.

“It’s to thank him for telling us about the chapel.”

Beth dragged her husband-to-be to the hotel’s foyer. There was a smart, middle-aged woman on reception.

“Excuse me, I understand you have a wedding chapel here in the hotel?” She beamed at Chris—her smile could have lit Las Vegas. “We’d like to get married.”

Beth held Chris’s arm and pulled him close to her.

“We do,” said the receptionist. “But it only takes advance bookings, I’m afraid. If you want a walk-in chapel, there are plenty on The Strip. You could try the Love Birds’ Nest. They do an excellent package. Dress rental for yourself, tuxedo rental for the gentleman. And they have an excellent photographer.” She lowered her voice. “Actually, the photographer is my brother-in-law. But he is very good.”

Within an hour, Chris was dressed in an ill-fitting tuxedo and standing in front of a minister, waiting for Beth to walk up the aisle. He couldn’t believe he was going through with it. He should have seen good sense. Seen reason. But he’d been swept up by Beth’s excitement. And he had to admit, he was pretty excited, too. Music began playing, and Chris turned to watch his bride walk towards him. She was wearing a short, but elegant, white dress and a veil. She smiled at him. He smiled back. When she was at his side, the minister began.