With her eyes closed she listens to the noises in the room. She realizes instantly that she's not in her own room. It takes her hungover brain a few moments to realize where she is.

One day earlier:

She's sitting in the airport in Las Vegas. Daniel returns from the ticket stand.

"Are we going to make it to L.A. for the meeting or not?"

"The flight has been cancelled."

"So find another one."

"There isn't another one until tomorrow."

"I told you that we should have taken the private jet."

"And I told you that it is getting repaired."

"So now what are we supposed to do?"

"They're sending us a car. It's going to take us to a hotel."

"I don't want to stay here tonight."

"We don't have a choice."

"We could drive."

"You want to drive? Really?"

"No," she shakes her head upon second thought.

"Then we're going to a hotel. It won't be so bad. We'll gamble, maybe we'll watch a show and we'll drink. Tomorrow will be here before you know it. Admit it, that doesn't sound completely horrible, does it?"

"The drinking sounds good," she admits.

"We need a break anyway. We can just look at this as a mini-vacation."

"If this is a mini-vacation I'm going to need a lot of alcohol."

"Ok," he agrees.

She rolls over on to her other side, and runs into a body. She pulls her hand out from the covers that she has tucked under her chin. She touches the other party in bed with her. She finds an arm, and then decides to open her eyes. She opens them, but closes them just as quickly. The sunlight coming in the room stings her eyes. She decides there is no reason to get up yet. The phone rings, and she rolls toward it. With her eyes closed she grapples for the phone. Finally she finds it, and pulls it to her ear.

"Good morning, Mrs. Meade I was just calling to let you know that your car will be her in an hour."

"Thanks," she hangs up the phone.

She rolls over to go back to sleep, and suddenly it hits her. Her eyes pop open, and she looks at the person next to her. She shakes him violently.

"Wake up!" she demands.

"My head is killing me, leave me alone."

"Daniel, wake up."

"Wilhelmina what do you want?"

"Just wake up!" she insists.

He rolls over and looks at her. "Why are you in bed with me?"

"I think that is the least of our problems."

"What do you mean the least of our problems?"

"Wait what are you wearing?"

"Boxers, why?"

"This isn't happening."

"What isn't happening? Are you naked under there?" he questions.

"Not quite."

"If you're dressed then why are you worrying about what happened? I'm sure that nothing happened."

"I'm not."

"Why not?"

"I'm wearing a t-shirt, your t-shirt."

"That doesn't mean anything. We were really drunk last night, I'm surprised we actually made it to the bed before we passed out."

"Do you remember what happened last night?"

"No, do you?"

"The last thing I remember was playing craps."

"That was at like seven o'clock."

She looks at the clock, "That was twelve hours ago."

"Calm down. I'm sure that nothing happened."

"Do you really believe that? Daniel I'm in bed with you."

"You were drunk, I forgive you."

"Daniel just focus for a minute."

"What?"

"I'm wearing your t-shirt."

"Yeah, you said that already."

"I'm not wearing anything else," she admits.

"Oh. So did we?"

"Does it matter?"

"I don't know," he shrugs.

"Daniel I just got a call from the concierge."

"Is our car here?"

"Not yet."

"We should probably get up, and get ready."

"Wait."

"What?"

"She called me Mrs. Meade."

"Obviously she's confused."

"Are you sure?"

He puts his left hand on his pillow. "I'm sure that we didn't get married. Hell would have to freeze over before that happened."

"So why are you wearing a wedding band?"

"Wilhelmina you've gone far enough, the joke isn't funny anymore."

"I'm not joking," she answers.

He looks at her, and then sits up, and looks at his hand. "That doesn't mean anything. Someone is probably just trying to play a joke on us. You're not wearing a wedding ring are you?"

She sits up, and pulls the covers down. She yanks her hand out from under the covers, and looks at both of them. "No."

"So we're good, don't worry about it. Go get dressed. I wouldn't want to miss our flight."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to try not to puke everywhere, which should work out just fine, as long as I don't move."

"Whatever," she climbs out of bed. She grabs her suitcase and heads into the bathroom. She stops at the mirror, and takes a look at herself. She has mascara smeared all over her face, and her hair is going in nine different directions. The earrings that she's wearing start to make her ears itch. She takes them out, and pulls out her travel jewelery box. She opens it, and finds a pair of rings on top of a piece of paper. She makes sure that the sink stopper is in, and then she sits the two platinum rings on the counter. She pulls out the folded piece of paper.

"Daniel!"

Daniel races to the bathroom. He stops to knock on the door. She yanks it open and stares at him with a 'I'd really like to strangle you to death', look.

"What? What's wrong? Is there someone in here?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"So what's with the screaming?"

She hands him the piece of paper.

He asks, "What's this?" without looking at it.

"It's an excerpt from my upcoming novel," she answers.

He makes eye contact, but decides to read the paper instead of responding. She gives him a few seconds and then points out, "It's a marriage certificate."

"This has got to be a joke."

She holds up the two rings, "I don't think so," she answers.

"What are those?"

"This is a six carat , three stone, round cut, platinum engagement ring, and this is a four carat platinum banded wedding band."

"Those aren't real."

"Call and cancel the car, we've got to figure this out."

"Wilhelmina why are you getting so worked up about this? I'm sure it's some sort of joke. You and I are the last two people on earth who would ever marry each other."

"Just cancel the car," she barks.

"Fine," he agrees leaving the bathroom.