I shrugged and tapped my fingernails on the tabletop. “A friendly wager.”
His smile was all teeth. It would have been more intimidating if I was just sitting here as Sandy Stewart. But I wasn’t. And he didn’t know who he was fucking with. He would soon enough. And by then, it’d be too late.
Notice how I had no fucks left to give.
I said, “I bet you we can raise more money than you can from one of your fundraisers.”
I wished for a moment that we had an audience so they could gasp at my audacity. When I got my TV show, I’d probably have to travel with an entourage wherever I went to make sure I had dramatic gaspers at the ready. Life wasn’t worth living unless you had dramatic gaspers.
“Interesting,” he said. “A fool’s bet, then. I know people with very deep pockets. Are you sure you want to go there, sweetheart?”
“Darren,” I asked, voice sugary-sweet. “Can I borrow your fork?”
“Maybe now’s not a good time.” Darren reached up through my hair and squeezed the back of my neck. “You don’t really need it at the moment.”
“I just want to hold it. For a little bit.”
“Maybe later,” he said.
Taylor was confused.
“If we win,” I told him, “you push to have the contract with Jack It renewed. Nonnegotiable. Until 2026.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And just how did you know there was a contract?”
I shrugged and didn’t speak.
He looked between the two of us. “Is that what this was about?”
Darren snorted. “You brought it up. All I wanted to do was introduce my father to my girlfriend.”
“It’s just a noticed opportunity,” I said.
“Have many of those, do you?” Taylor glanced at his son.
I didn’t like what he was implying, even if he was technically correct. I
was
using Darren, but Taylor didn’t get to know that. Besides, Darren had his own motive that I wasn’t privy to, so I thought we might have been even.
“A few,” I said, letting him fill in whatever blanks he had.
“And if I win?” he asked after a pause.
Mike wasn’t going to be happy with me. “You can close the club. With as little resistance as possible.”
“You act like you can speak for everyone in their entirety.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. One is that I have a very big mouth. Isn’t that right, Darren?”
“Jesus Christ,” Darren muttered as he flushed horribly. It was amazing.
“That means he agrees with me,” I told his father. “I know it doesn’t sound like it, but that’s just how we roll.”
“I think I like you,” Taylor said. “Very… ruthless. But why would I possibly agree to something like that? Surely you realize you can’t win. And even if you had a chance, all I have to do is say no and you have nothing.”
“Except the attention of the national media,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to meet Anderson Cooper so I can ask him if he considers himself a daddy. I’m sure he would be sympathetic to the local gay bar crushed under the unfashionable fascist boot of tyranny.”
“The unfashionable what of
what
?” Darren asked.
“You can’t really threaten me,” Taylor said. “And you’re treading a very thin line between speculation and extortion.”
“Not really treading as much as I’m straddling,” I said. “I’m better at that. Darren—”
“Don’t even bring me into that one,” Darren said.
“You’re no fun,” I accused him.
“Maybe she can’t threaten you,” Darren said to his father. “But, hey. Do you think people would be interested in hearing that their mayor cheated on his dead spouse with another woman and produced a child out of wedlock almost thirty years ago? Especially since said mayor is so keen on family values that he’s willing to close down a local business.”
If my dick hadn’t been taped between my legs, I would have popped a boner right then, I swear to god. As it was, I grunted quietly, choking back the
TAKE ME NOW
that I almost screamed out loud. I didn’t think the other patrons would have enjoyed me flipping up my skirt and presenting myself to Darren while demanding he stick it in me before I punched him in the mouth. Well, unless Tim Curry was here. He’d have probably enjoyed it just fine, the kinky fucker. And I would have been fine with him watching.
Taylor tapped his fingers on the table. “Blackmail,” he said finally.
“Eh,” Darren said. “I prefer to think of it as talking business over lunch. Besides, Dad. It’s not like you haven’t done worse than that. And we all know you haven’t met a bet you didn’t like. And if you’re so sure you’d win, what’s the harm in having a little fun? And I’m comfortable in my job security, so I don’t think I have anything to worry about there, do I? I mean, even as something as minute as changes to my current position would be noticed. Plus, there’s the whole potential for wrongful termination. And obviously there couldn’t be any claims of nepotism, given my educational background. I worked hard without any help from you to get where I’m at. And there’s a paper trail to prove it.”
Taylor sighed. “This is what you blackmail me for? A gay bar? I’m a little depressed at the thought. I would have expected you to dream… bigger. I don’t know. Why not just make it simple and ask for money like most other people? I honestly expected that by now given your parentage. Hush money changing hands to keep rumors of my tawdry indiscretions out of the public eye.”
I was mad on Darren’s behalf. Taylor was talking about his mother like she was nothing. “We’ll take your money,” I said. “If you want to place a bid on one of our fine bachelors. You’ve got that whole power kink thing going on. Or even better, maybe you’d like to be in the auction itself. You’d make us some good money, I think. Just wear that suit or one like it. I’m sure you have a closet full of them.”
“I still like you,” Taylor said to me. “I’ll crush you where you stand, but just know that I still like you. It’s quite a position to be in, if I must say.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I don’t know that the feeling is mutual. So. You know. There’s that.”
He grinned at Darren. “You better hold on to this one. She’s a spitfire.”
I rolled my eyes as Darren glanced at me, expression unreadable.
“When is your fundraiser?” Taylor asked. “The one you apparently already had planned before today’s lunch ever occurred.” He wasn’t as stupid as he looked. Which was very stupid.
“The second Saturday in December,” I said promptly.
He nodded as he pulled out his iPhone. “Then I suppose we can set ours for the following weekend,” he said after a moment. “The weekend after that is Christmas, so I expect people to be in a festive and giving mood.” He typed something into the calendar on his phone (I imagined it was something like
DESTROY THE HOMOSEXUALS DINNER AND CASH GRAB!!!
) and then stuck his phone back into his inner jacket pocket. “What more can I say?” He folded his hands in front of him on the table. “May the best man win.”
I got the dig.
Of course, little did he know that I had the balls to go up against him.
Literally.
And figuratively, but literally also.
“And who had the sea bass?” the waitress asked with a simpering smile, unaware of the Mexican soap opera that had unfolded right in front of her nose.
“Oh, right,” I said. “I don’t like fish. Give me Darren’s steak that he obviously ordered like a douche and he can have the seafood. That will teach him to order me dainty food. You eat it if you like it so much. I’m a lady, and I deserve to eat like a queen.”
Darren sighed while his evil father chuckled.
IT WASN’T
until we were back in Darren’s SUV that I freaked out.
“How could you let me
say
those things to him?” I shrieked at Darren. “I basically threatened a government official! Are you out of your damn
mind
? Those are
felony
charges.”
“Oh boy,” Darren said, not even glancing at me.
“Do you know what he could
do
to me? Do you know the type of people he probably knows? I bet all it takes is a single phone call before he has his secret service taking a hit out on me! Do you
know
what hitmen do, Darren? Do you? They
kill
. Your father is going to use his powers to hire hitmen and they’re going to
kill
me and I’m going to be on the local news and they’re going to say something like
middle-aged man found dead in his home, the victim of his own idiocy
.”
“In what world are you middle—”
“And even if he
doesn’t
try and put a hit out on me, he’ll probably have the NSA tap into my phone and computers and they’re going to see my
web
browser. Darren, do you know how curious I am about fisting?
Do you
? Only a little bit. But that won’t matter, because I logged on to that fisting site
three times
, and that’s all they’re going to focus on. Pretty soon, everyone in the world will think Sanford Stewart wants to be some beefy bear’s meat puppet. I
don’t
. Most of the time. That’s beside the point. The point is… okay, the point
is
… god
dammit
. What were we talking about?”
“Honestly,” Darren said faintly, “I have no idea. I’m still stuck on the whole beefy bear meat puppet thing—”
“And okay,” I said. “So I
tried
cybersex. Like, one time. And
maybe
I used a pickup line to start it. Hey, I wish you were like a winter storm. That way, you’d give me your eight to twelve inches so I won’t be able to leave my house for days. I regret it, okay? I didn’t even
like
cybersex and I was
nineteen years old
.”
“It’s like Christmas,” Darren breathed. “And these are all my presents.”
“So,
yes
. This is all
your
fault. Your father is going to NSA me and then kill me and I’ll have to make a run for it and go into hiding. Do you know what happens to people like me when they have to go into hiding, Darren? I’m not Jason fucking Bourne, okay? I have a
beauty
regimen that I must adhere to
nightly
. Do you think all of this happens by accident? No!
It doesn’t
. I work hard for this, Darren.
Hard
. Do you think I’ll be able to exfoliate when I’m on the run from your father’s goons? No.
No, I won’t
. You’ll be able to see my pores. My
pores
, Darren. From
space
. Or, at the very least, I’ll go to prison. Do you know what happens to men like me in prison, Darren? Let me tell
you
. Men like me go to prison and get passed around like a church collection plate at Christmas mass.
Everyone
is going to have a finger in it, Darren.
Everyone
. And that’s at
minimum
. Because your father is, like, the president of Tucson. The
president
. And what if he—okay. Wait. Now that I think about it, I still don’t think I understand how local government works. Does your dad have secret service? I didn’t see any secret service. Huh. Okay. And I don’t have any more dick pics saved, so. That’s good. Okay. You know what, this will be fine. We’ll be fine. We just have to plan an entire fundraiser in about four weeks and pull it off flawlessly, all the while making more money than your father and his rich old white-guy friends and we’ll be good. Better than good. We’ll be great. We’ll make a billion dollars for crack babies by selling off men in dresses and it’ll be
fine
. Chances are I’ll probably need to make a second plan to somehow sabotage your father’s gala dinner, but I can worry about that down the road.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I felt much better.
Every now and then, it was good to just let your crazy go all out without caring about how people might judge you.
I looked out the SUV window. At some point, we’d pulled over into a strip mall parking lot. “Huh. Why are we stopped?” I turned back to Darren. He sat next to me, slack-jawed and staring at me with wide eyes. “Everything okay?” I asked him, quirking my eyebrow.
“How are you a real person?” he asked, sounding awed.
I frowned. “Is that some kind of trick question?”
He shook his head, like he was clearing the cobwebs. “Should we even talk about the part where you volunteered me to dress in drag and pimp me out?”
“Oh. Right. Um. So. Hey. Do you want to do me a favor?”
“Whatever could that be,” he sighed.
“You are going to need to let me dress you up and then sell you to the highest bidder.”
“Which is what I just said.”
“Sort of. I used euphemisms. Made it sound a bit better, so.”
“And why is this going to be a drag bachelor auction and not a normal bachelor auction? And, as an aside, I should probably think about the direction my life is headed when sentences like that come out of my mouth and I really don’t bat an eye.”
“Everyone knows that drag bachelor auctions are more fun than regular bachelor auctions,” I said.
“Dare I ask why?”
“Dare you?”
“Why, Sandy.”
“Because it’s more fun that way.” Wow. And here I was thinking it was obvious. Maybe Darren didn’t understand what fun was. He was a homo jock, after all. If he couldn’t lift it, eat it, or fuck it, he probably didn’t quite understand what the concept of fun was. “Everyone thinks so.”
“Everyone,” he said flatly.
“Right. So. Darren. Notice how you’re talking about drag queen things and their level of entertainment with
the
Drag Queen? Yeah, who do you think out of the two of us knows what they’re talking about? I’ll give you a hint. It’s not you.”
“You really don’t want me to answer that question.”
“Asshole.”
“Bitch.”
“Rude,” I said with a gasp. “I am a
lady
and I demand you treat me as such.”
He snorted. “Yeah, that’s probably not going to happen.”
“It was nice while it lasted.”
“Was it?”
I decided he’d been through enough today and decided to say something nice. “Your dad was… fun.”