“That’s fucked up,” I said flatly. I might have disliked Darren, but I didn’t know if even
I
was that big of an asshole.
And then Mike said, “Think of Vaguyna, princess. She would have done everything she possibly could have to keep this place open. Think about what would have happened to you had she not taken you under her wing. Think about whatever other little gay boy is out there that wants to sneak in here with a shitty fake ID just so he can be around people like him, people that will accept him.”
“That’s low,” I said. “You can’t just….” But he could. Because it was the truth. Without this place, I wouldn’t be who I was today. Helena was a part of me, and the only reason she was anything was because Vaguyna had let me in. Tucson was big, just under a million people, but aside from Jack It, there was a lesbian bar on the other side of town and a couple of hole-in-the-wall places that were extremely low-key. Nothing like Jack It unless it was the straight bars, the college bars where frat boys drank beer and women wore short skirts. At least here, women could throw back the beer while the men wore the skirts. “So basically, you want me to fuck my mortal enemy and convince him to convince his
father
to somehow keep this bar open by telling me to think of the children?”
“That about sums it up.”
“Well fuck me sideways,” I said, suitably impressed. “That’s devious. I feel tingly in between my thighs.”
Mike looked very tired. “I got nothing left. I don’t know if the lawyers will be able to do anything. Sure, maybe we can try to hold some kind of protest. But aside from having verifiable proof that the contract won’t be renewed because this is a gay bar, then it will just seem as if a small business is being evicted. And it’s not as if we haven’t been cited before. Nudity, drugs, sex. Shit happens here. How many times have the police been called? It’s gotten better, but we’ve been hanging by the skin of our teeth for a long while. I know that. But they shouldn’t be able to take this away from me. From either of us. It’s not fair.”
“And you think Darren Mayne will be able to change that,” I said dubiously. “Darren, whose own father doesn’t know
shit
about him. Darren Mayne, who doesn’t give a shit about this place.”
“I think you’re underestimating certain feelings, princess.”
“And I think you’re severely overestimating my prowess,” I said. “This isn’t some fucking romantic comedy. Life doesn’t work the way you’re thinking it does. He’s a fucking tool, but Darren is smart. He’s going to see right through me.”
“I guess you’re just going to have to sell it, aren’t you?” Mike asked.
“Jesus. Why don’t
you
do it, if you want it so much?”
“Ah, princess. I’m glad you feel that I could woo him in such a way.”
I made a face. “That’s not what I was saying at all. Why does this have to be about sex? Why can’t you just ask him?”
“Because he doesn’t owe me shit. Why would he do anything for me?”
“Exactly,” I said. “And why would he do anything for me? We don’t like each other. We never have, and we never will. Give me one good reason why I should even consider entertaining something so ridiculous.”
“Because this place is as much yours as it is mine,” Mike said. “Your name isn’t on any of the paperwork, but you belong here just as much as I do.”
“Not good enough,” I said.
“Think of the children.”
“Fuck the children. Fuck them right in their little faces.”
“If you don’t, I’ll make sure you never find work as a queen ever again.”
I laughed at him. “You think you can threaten me? Mike, I will
crush
you, you insignificant little bitch. Don’t make me cut you.”
“I’ll completely fund your campaign for Miss Gay America next year.”
“Done.” I didn’t hesitate. “Write it up in a contract. And I mean
everything
. Airfare, hotels, costumes, music rights,
everything
. And this happens with or without Jack It staying open. Get your people to send it to my people to review and you better not fuck me on this, Mike, or you’ll regret it.” So I was selling my soul a little bit, but it was the Miss Gay America pageant. I would have sold
Paul
to get the finances for it. (I would have felt bad, sure, but Paul would have understood.)
Mike sighed. “You don’t have people.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“And
everything
everything? I don’t know that I can afford—”
I snorted. “Bullshit, Mike. You own three clubs, two restaurants, an Arby’s—which, by the way, that’s disgusting and you should feel ashamed of yourself—and somehow, a Mexican baseball team called
Los Gatos Locos
, which translates to the Crazy Cats for reasons I don’t quite understand, but don’t really care to know. You can afford it. And even if you couldn’t, you’re asking me to seduce Darren Mayne. Go sell your ass for some green. I’m sure there are some johns out there who like middle-age desperation with a side of skeevy.”
“You wound me, princess,” he said, slightly mocking.
“Not yet I haven’t,” I purred, flashing teeth. “But fuck with me on this and I definitely will. You’ll find out what it feels like to have your balls skewered by eight-inch stilettos.”
“I quake in fear at such a thought. I know this is ridiculous, princess. It’s underhanded and firmly planted in a morally gray area. But I would do
anything
for this place. If that means doing something that others might consider reprehensible, then so be it. Everyone knows Taylor is a betting man. He likes to make wagers. Got him into a lot of trouble years ago. But I’m a betting man too, and I would put all my money on you, princess.”
“It better be all your money,” I said. “Because I have
very
expensive tastes.”
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“No more than I.” And I probably would. There was really no way this wouldn’t end in tears, but I was completely blinded by being introduced as Helena Handbasket, the new Miss Gay America.
He winked at me. I felt slightly dirty. “Or maybe, somehow we’ll all learn a valuable lesson about truth and freedom and love, and this will end in a choreographed musical number where you ride off into the sunset with the man of your dreams.”
I stood up quickly and leaned over the table, grabbing a fistful of his chest hair and yanking him forward until his face was inches from my own. “I’m going to say this once, and once only, so you better be listening. Are you listening to me, Mike?”
He nodded slowly as a little bead of sweat dripped down between his eyes and onto his nose.
“I’m doing this only because Vaguyna loved this place. I’m only doing this because you’re paying me to. I’m only doing this because I will
never
want the fucking bigots to win. But I am
not
doing this because of Darren Mayne. There will be no happy ending with him because I don’t
want
there to be, got it?” I jerked his chest hair a little.
“Clear as crystal, princess.” He winced.
“Good. Now, how long do I have?”
“Uh. End of first quarter 2016. So, March.”
I pulled on his chest hairs a little tighter. “It’s
October
. And I have a
wedding
to plan.”
“What? Who?”
“Vince and Paul.”
“Oh, well, isn’t that lovely. Congrats to the lovely couple.”
“Yes, it was. Vince proposed over brunch last Sunday. It was rather sweet.”
“Mazel tov. Tell them to come in this weekend. Their drinks will be on me.”
“That’s nice of you, Mike, thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do. I love love, you know?”
“I know,” I said. “I’ve seen how much you love love in the back room.”
He shrugged. “I have a big heart. And a big dick.”
“Gross.”
He shrugged again.
“Right. Now, where were we?”
“You were threatening me.”
“Right, okay. You distracted me with the whole Paul and Vince thing.”
“Sorry. You want to finish the threat?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Seems kind of pointless now. Too much time has passed since I started and it might not carry the same weight.”
“I’ll still be scared,” he said. “I promise.”
“Okay. Give me a second. I got to get back into it.” I thought about how Mike was essentially blackmailing me (with my enthusiastic consent, of course, because I had big dreams and expensive tastes and next summer would be the qualifying run for Miss Gay America, so little time), and how Darren had treated me like shit. And, of course, the anger at myself for not being able to get over a slight from the Homo Jock King that happened years ago, because
really
, what did it matter? Why did I even care that much to let it get to me?
Maybe it was because for a brief, shining moment, I thought Darren was going to be different.
And holy shit, was I wrong.
I was pissed off again. I showed many teeth when I smiled at Mike.
His eyes widened in fear.
IT WASN’T
until I was back inside the bar that it hit me what I had essentially just agreed to: I was to seduce Darren Mayne to save a gay bar from evil Republicans.
In retrospect, it sounded like I was the spunky and quirky heroine of a Harlequin romance set in Montana or Wyoming (of which I knew plenty, seeing as how from the age of thirteen to seventeen, I read nothing but, sighing over when women with names like Charity or Serenity landed rough and tumble cowboys named Buck or Mick and found Twu Wuv all the while solving the Big Mystery and saving the day. And also getting plowed like a field in their mound of womanhood. I was nothing if not a voracious reader). Given that this was real life and I was not, in fact, a spunky and quirky heroine in Montana or Wyoming, I figured that this would probably just end in tears or murder, both of which would probably be my own.
So, there I was, wondering just how I was going to pull this off, not paying attention in the slightest to where I was going when I entered the bar again, only to crash into the one person that I was resolutely going to avoid until I could form a plan of attack.
“Ow,” I said.
“Sandy,” he said.
“Meep.” Somehow, I was standing in a darkened hallway of a gay bar with Darren Mayne’s arms wrapped around me loosely, my nose near his neck, his lips at my ear. I felt every single breath he took. The exhalations were hot against my skin.
“I was looking for you,” he said quietly, and didn’t
that
cause a little buzz to roll through me for no fucking reason at all.
“Oh?” I managed to say. “Lucky me.” I thought about kneeing him in the balls. It seemed like it might have been the best course of action.
“Yeah. I wanted to talk to you.” He pulled back just a bit, until we were face to face, his hands on my arms, fingers gripping lightly. He had rather pretty eyes, if one cared about such things, but since I didn’t, I ignored them and prepared to kick him in the nuts because he was way too close and smelled really good and—
“About?” I asked, curbing that line of thought quickly.
He said, “About the wedding. I have some ideas for Paul and Vince.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that I was sure his ideas wouldn’t be necessary, given that we weren’t going to order kegs and have a rager like homo jocks were wont to do. And to tell him to get his hands off me, because who did he think he was, manhandling me like he had any right to. I was a
queen
, for fuck’s sake, and I didn’t want someone of his ilk putting his hands on me.
But, of course, I was apparently a spunky and quirky heroine in a Harlequin romance set in Montana or Wyoming, because I said, “I just got hired to seduce you in order to save Jack It from going out of business. So I’ll need to suck on your cock a little while you figure out how to get your estranged and completely bigoted father to change his mind. Be a dear, would you, and go along with this? It would make my life easier.”
Darren choked on his tongue.
“Well, shit,” I sighed, because
that
shouldn’t have been a thing that happened.
Goddammit.
I DIDN’T
even have the wherewithal to protest when Darren’s grip tightened on my shoulder as he dragged me through the bar and toward the stairs to the Queen’s Lair. Izaac eyed me as we passed by the bar and I shrugged helplessly, almost wanting to screech at him to save me from the dastardly villain who had me in his clutches. He waggled his eyebrows at me, obviously getting the wrong idea.
But since I figured it wasn’t a good idea to make things worse, I passed through the bar without much protest. Catcalls followed us as Darren threw open the doors to the stairs, pulling me up behind him. I felt myself blush, for fuck’s sake, like I was some virginish maiden being taken to her tower and where she’d be thrust upon in her wet cavern with the throbbing manhood of the knight who had rescued her. I reminded myself later to correct Izaac and the others before any rumors started to spread about Darren and me. Since it was a gay bar, though, chances were texts were already being sent down the gay phone chain and the rumors would be flying even before I stepped back down into the bar. I told myself that it was
not
the time to be spunky or quirky, and that I had to take this situation by the balls before it came on my face.
Darren only let me go once we’d reached the Queen’s Lair. It was empty, Charlie not expected to arrive for at least another half hour, Paul and Vince a little later. I was alone with the Homo Jock King, and he looked like he was getting ready to strangle the closest thing he could get his hands on.
Which would be me.
“Speak,” he growled, eyes flashing.
“You’ll
never
thrust into my wet cavern, you brute,” I said, because I had apparently lost all control on my mouth. “I don’t care if you
are
a knight.”
“Are you
high
?” he asked, looking terribly confused.