The name Las Vegas came from Spanish and meant "the fertile grasslands."
This city, whose main industries were gambling and entertainment and whose every necessity depended on outside support, nevertheless boasted the most luxurious collection of hotels in the world.
A bunch of rich guys had built a huge metropolis from scratch in the deserts of southern Nevada!
Alvin and the others cruised along Highway 15, enjoying the sunshine and breeze while taking in the desert's vast, magnificent scenery.
Driving a convertible wasn't actually as comfortable as they'd imagined, but the comfort of the classic cars and their eye-catching appeal made up for some of the discomfort.
Every vehicle that passed them rolled down its windows and honked in greeting at the classic cars.
They weren't paying tribute to Alvin or the cars' value, but to the carefree, unfettered spirit they represented.
Stark, weighed down by worries, began to relax halfway through the drive.
There was no point letting a few petty thieves ruin his mood. He'd already decided to teach them a lesson, so he could put that off until later. Enjoying life mattered more—otherwise, they'd be wasting the chance to enjoy these classic cars they'd gone to so much trouble to find in Cuba.
Alvin had been to Las Vegas once before, but he'd brought little Ginny and Jessica along, so he hadn't had a chance to experience much of what the city had to offer.
This time was different. A Las Vegas trip with a group of men would be an entirely different affair.
When the big "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign appeared up ahead, Castle stood up from the passenger seat, pulled off his suit jacket, and waved it vigorously as he cheered, "Yoo-hoo! We're here!"
Some passing drivers spotted Castle's exuberance. They rolled down their