"
Me!" he cried.
"
Well, would you prefer to handle the show and tell?" Lucian waved a dildo in his face and Steve whacked it away.
"
I'll handle the sales pitch of course!"
"
Perfect," Lucian said. "Tara and I will handle up on the show and tell." He wiggled his brows at me with a sexy grin and I punched his arm.
"
This is not a game, Lucian, we need to win this."
Steve opened the door.
"I need air."
Lucian winked at me.
"Let's work on our act." He put the items we'd selected back in the box.
"
We can't go in with a box
Lucian," I cried.
He paused and looked at me.
"You want to stuff our pants? We don't have anything else."
"
I have my purse." I climbed toward the back of the car and fetched it behind the last seat then brought it to him. I dumped the contents onto the seat and opened it for him. "Load her up."
He grinned while stuffing my purse to the brim with various toys, managing all but two. I found one of the catalogs, rolled it up, and handed it to him. He took it and put it in his back pocket and we scooted out of the car.
Leaning back in the door, Lucian glanced at the preacher and said dryly, "Guess you'll be in here praying."
The preacher gave a slow grin.
"You guessed exactly right. Now go score."
Chapter Ten
Those last words of unspoken threat followed us as we exited the limo. As soon as the door was shut, Lucian mimicked the preacher
's words in a whiney voice adding mememememeeee followed by, "Fucker."
We headed into the store, following Steve, who walked with a crisp step. I noticed that he had a slight limp I hadn
't seen before. Shorter leg?
"
Steve seems to know what he's doing," Lucian muttered, following closely.
"
What's our plan?" I asked.
"
Well, we'll just let Steve give his pitch then decide if they need to see anything or not."
"
You say that like you're pretty sure they won't get to that point," I mumbled.
Steve looked around then asked directions from one of the passing workers then made a beeline to the right side of the store.
We entered a hall and watched him look at the doors we passed until he stopped at one with the plaque
Manager
on the center.
"
This is it," he whispered, taking a deep breath and releasing it with a hee-hee-hee, eyes closed. They popped open just as Lucian reached to knock only to have his arm karate chopped by Steve. "Back up," he hissed. "Let me do the talking." He tugged at all the edges on his suit jacket then smoothed his tie before raising a hand to the door and delivering three sharp knocks.
He sliced his gaze to us, wearing his craziest face ever. Jesus, they
'd think he was as psycho as he looked. I pointed to his face, fighting to convey the issue and his look faltered with concern over what I might be implying.
"
Come in," a female voice barked from behind the door.
Steve
's eyes widened and he opened the door, face transforming from scary to completely sane looking. What a class act he was.
"
Ms. Chase? I'm Steven Harrison with Gladiator, Inc. the nationwide renowned adult entertainment corporation? I'm so very thrilled and pleased you agreed to meet with me on such short notice." Steve reached a hand toward the frumpily dressed girl who stood and shook his hand.
There was no fear in this woman
's face, no uncertainty. She was in complete and utter control, making the frumpy appearance seem way out of place. Exclusive designer business attire, trips to some elite salon, and an ultra-modern office in a corner suite of a New York high rise wouldn't be out of place for this woman either. She was the sort other women despised, never out of her element.
"
My sister informs me that this is an adult toy line? What exactly are you proposing?"
Uh-oh.
Judging by her cool tone, she might think we were selling bowling balls and rock climbing gear.
"
Well I am
so
very thrilled that you're receptive to this," Steve said, turning a happy,
that was easy
look at us. "We've brought a few samples," cuing the show and tell team into action.
"
Why not give her the sales angle first?" Lucian suggested.
I agreed with a nod.
"Yes, the sales pitch, definitely."
"
I've no doubt the sales won't be an issue." The woman sat back down and looked between us. "Talks of a line of adult themed toys has been in the works for quite some time. But I am curious to know what products you have?"
"
Of course you are," Steve again waved his hand, cuing us on stage.
"
Alright then," Lucian clapped then turned to face me, taking hold of the purse and holding it between us. I looked in his eyes and found the same alarm I had in mine as he shook his head barely while rolling his eyes in a
this is going to suck.
"
Is the zipper stuck?" Steve said.
"
Yeah, getting it. Stupid thing always jams," he said, unzipping the purse. "I'd like to present you one of our best sellers, Ms. Chase," Lucian fought the giant silver bullet dildo out of the package and turned with it. "Slick Silver. The ladies love it."
I bit my lower lip and watched the woman
's expression as she studied the toy with harshly drawn brows. "What…does it do?"
"
Well," Lucian turned it on and it began to buzz like a pair of clippers. "It vibrates."
"
Rather loudly," Steve muttered, scratching at his wrist.
"
Maybe it's a faulty one," I said.
'
That's not promising," the lady said. "I still don't get what it does. How is that a toy? What do you do with it?"
Really?
"Right," Lucian shut it off and handed it to Steve before turning to me. "How about this baby." He ripped the real life looking dildo out of the package and turned with it.
The woman gave a sharp gasp and I stepped up and took it from Lucian, not wanting him to be selling rubber dicks to another woman.
"This here is called…hey… Alex." I cleared my throat loudly only to bring up a bit of phlegm that lodged in the pipe. "It is the top seller among…" I cleared my throat again, more loudly, "among single women. Lonely…single women."
"
Dear God." I glanced at Steve's lowered head, shaking with a hand visored over his brow.
Lucian stood with his head lowered as well.
"Is this a joke?" Ms. Chase finally choked out.
I tried to recall our angle.
"Not at all," I fought to get the dildo back in my purse. "I mean… adults were once kids and well maybe they'd be um, a little less cranky if um, they had…had toys too." I noticed Lucian trying to get my attention with his gaze. He kept lowering it down then widening his eyes. I looked at my purse to see the head of the stupid dick sticking out of the top.
"
Ms. Chase!" Steve nearly yelled, snapping his fingers to get her attention. "Please let me demonstrate the revenue that you stand to gain." Steve unfolded his square of paper, hands trembling like a drunk coming off a binge, completing our little deranged circus act.
"
Please leave," the woman said. "I don't know what to say, this is… is this some kind of joke? Did Alissa put you up to this?"
Steve stood there with mouth open.
"I'm so very sorry Ms. Chase, I really do realize how very unusual this all is. The truth is, we're playing this game."
"
And that's a wrap," Lucian said, clapping Steve on the back.
"
I was thinking if I told her," Steve whispered like she couldn't hear.
Lucian turned him.
"I was thinking we'd be sorry if you did?"
"
We're very sorry for wasting your time," I said.
Lucian whipped out the catalog and put it on her desk.
"In case you change your mind."
"
Get that garbage off of my desk, sir."
"
Of course," Lucian snatched it back up. "Maybe we can leave it in the lounge?"
"
If you'd like to be arrested. Yes, go right ahead."
The look on her face said she prayed he would so she could call the police.
We all headed to the door like three naughty school kids leaving the principal's office after getting caught trafficking drugs. Nobody said a word as we made a speedy exit to the limo that was nowhere to be found in the parking lot. Really?
"
There!" Steve nearly shouted as he walk-ran toward it.
Lucian and I followed as quickly as we could without looking like we were making a getaway after robbing a bank.
We all climbed in to face the next principal, the preacher. None of us said a word as we drove off and we all avoided the ever penalizing gaze of the preacher.
"
I swear to
God,"
he mumble growled, "if one of you doesn't open your mouth in five seconds, I'm going to have you all severely disciplined."
"
It was a flop," Steve blurted, clawing at his thigh through his pants. "An utter, humiliating, flop." He turned to Lucian. "You should have never brought out that second one."
Lucian gave a half laugh.
"She didn't know what the first one was, did you expect me to ask Tara to put on a demonstration, or what?"
Steve gasped.
"No! But you didn't need to bring out that realistic penis. My God, it was bigger than a donkey's in a pasture of virgin… lady horses."
Lucian sighed and sat back.
"Maybe if you'd made it clear upon setting up this meeting that
adult toys
wasn't baseballs and hiking gear."
Steve balked.
"And do you
think
she would have agreed to
meet
us had I done that? No, she would not have, mister. At least this way we'd had a semblance of a chance." Steve leaned and gave me a sympathetic look. "And you did fine by the way, this is not your fault."
Before I could respond, Lucian laughed dryly.
"Well it's not my fault."
"
So no sale?" The preacher interrupted. "At all?"
"
She um," I scratched the bridge of my nose. "Kicked us out. Thought it was a prank."
"
Threatened to call the cops if I even left a catalog," Lucian said. "Frigid little cunt."
I slapped him in the arm.
"She was!" Lucian cried.
"
Son-of-a-bitch," the preacher mumbled. "Now I'll have to take it out of your hides."
We all looked at him now.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Lucian asked.
"
It means you all will be disciplined. A no sale means no points. But it's not the only way I can earn points. I can't sell products, but I do have a set of directives worth points." The preacher said it so very nonchalantly but the hair rose on my arms in response.
"
Like what?" Steve's tone was suddenly tiny and hesitant.
'
Yeah, do tell, preacher." Lucian put his arm around me.
"
You'll see soon enough, son."
Chapter Eleven
We all s
at in the car, waiting to see what our 'discipline' would be. Better not be anything stupid toward Tara. Or Steve for that matter. He could do what he liked to me, but he needed to recognize I wouldn't stand for bullshit outside of those parameters.
We rode in silence and the Preacher got on his phone and mumbled,
"Stop at the first fine restaurant you find." He shut the phone, and slid his thumb across his nose like a bad coke addict habit.
We finally pulled into a parking lot and the preacher reached in the box and tossed the package containing a blow up doll to me.
"You'll be having dinner here. All of you. At the same table. With your guest." He pointed to it.
I looked down at the package with a confused
frown.
"
Humiliation is a discipline. I think having dinner and lively conversation with a blow up doll pretty much fills the bill, don't you think? I see Steve thinks so."
I looked at Steve and found him a statue of petrified horror, his face nearly comical.
"I'm hungry," Tara said. She took the doll from me. "How about you, Betty? You hungry?" She smiled and handed her back to me.
"
How long do we have to do this?"
The preacher made his way out of the limo.
"Until you're escorted out by the police."
"
The police?" Steve gasped.
"
How do we get it in?" Tara asked.
"
In your purse. Bring her to life once you're settled in," he mumbled.
"
How many points is this, anyway?" I led Tara to the double doors of the busy steak house. I only hoped there weren't a lot of kids in there. I could bluff my way through a lot, but the thought of young witnesses made me nervous as fuck.
"
Not real sure." The Preacher's rumble said he wasn't a lot happier than I was with the situation, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. Or us.
"
Wonder if they'll post the scores," Steve whispered as we walked in and waited at the little hostess stand for someone to seat us.
"
A table for...four," Steve whispered to the lady who greeted us. "We're expecting another…person to be coming along soon."
She
nodded and smiled, then eyed the preacher and his wife. "Table for two?"
"
Yes, near theirs if you can."
"
Not a problem. This way, please."
Tara
's hand tightened on my arm and I glanced to see what the problem might be, but she didn't say anything. Nerves? Most likely. Mine were definitely on fucking end.
We followed
the hostess through the crowded, well lit restaurant, dodging patrons as they made their way to the buffet. "Here is fine," Steve pointed to a comparatively secluded banquet room to the right of the crowded dining room.
"
No, somewhere more open," the preacher said.
"
How about there?" She pointed to the fucking center of the room.
Preacher grinned.
"Perfect."
The woman led us to the table and waited for us to sit, then handed us menus.
"Your server will be over in a moment." Glancing at Preacher and Becca, she gestured to another table, across the aisle and down one. "Is this one okay for you?"
"
It is." Conversations paused all around in response to that rumble, then hurriedly resumed. Looking around, I spotted all the signs of fear and discomfort. People seemed to be conspicuously avoiding looking toward the Preacher because their first glimpse of him terrified them. Which meant they'd be looking right at us.
The three of us
looked around like covert SEALS about to begin a deadly mission. If I hadn't been so nervous, it might have been funny. I glanced at the preacher who stared at me and gave a single slow nod.
With the table covering my actions, I hoped, I slid the package out of Tara
's purse and handed it to Steve under the table. His eyes widened as he stared at me and shook his head hard enough to jiggle his cheeks.
"
Ohhh, I think I dropped my fork," Tara said, bending down and yanking on my pant leg.
I looked down to find her head under the table cloth her hand grabbing for the package. The crinkling paper ripped apart, and I glanced around
, waiting for someone to notice and raise the alarm. "So Steve, how's your mother?"
He slid his eyes slowly toward me while Tara struggled still with the paper. Sounded like she had a fucking microphone
on it.
"
My mother is…good. She's…dead. Good and dead." He jumped a little as though hearing how that sounded. "I mean it's good that she's dead." His eyes slowly widened with another bad pun. "She's dead in heaven. Which is good."
I nodded.
"Dead in heaven, huh? Now there's a reward."
His mouth hardened a little as he picked up his water, eyes darting around.
"You know what I mean, you aborted sperm of Satan," he hissed while hacksawing at his ankle with nails.
"
Dude, you need some Calamine lotion, or what?"
"
I need an oatmeal bath is what I need," Steve whispered pissed. "I'm
covered
in every poison inhabiting that godforsaken forest!"
I bit my lip, hearing Tara blowing air into the thing.
"Do you need help finding your fork sweetheart?"
"
Whew," she mumbled. "I think I do. Kinda…" she came back topside, her hair disheveled, breathless. "Kind of dark down there, yes."
"
Let me help you," I said, going under the table the same as she had and finding she'd blown the thing up about a third of the way. I felt around the doll for the blow hole, grimacing when my fingers encountered the hole on her face. The blow up part was on the top of the head it seemed. I maneuvered it to my mouth and blew about ten good rounds before coming up. "Can't find it either. Steve? Maybe you could help?"
He grumbled his way under the table and Tara and I looked around.
"Shit, we have a few watchers," I muttered.
Tara nodded a little, sipping her water.
"They ain't seen nothing yet."
"
Dear God, what's wrong with her face?" Steve gasped beneath the table then came up, his face red. "Frankenstein is finished."
"
Well," Tara nodded, "let's meet her."
Steve reached under the
table and worked the doll out and fixed the puffy plastic limbs into the chair next to him.
"
Oh, hello Betty," Tara said, way too loud. "Are you hungry? We're just about to order. You look famished."
Murmurs, hisses, and whispers erupted pronto.
Dear God. Bet those people were quickly reassessing the threat they thought the Preacher posed. I sure as fuck would, in their shoes.
"
Yes…Betty," Steve said, joining in. "I too am… astonished with the…restaurant… décor."
I nodded, chewing my lip.
"Your shock is definitely warranted. Such a drastic change from our current residence."
"
Perhaps she's thirsty?" Tara said.
Steve went for the water as though he were putting out a fire. He brought the glass to the golf ball sized hole in
the doll's face and poured a little. "Come on sweetheart," Steve sang sweetly, "wet your whistle, my little inanimate hussy."
"
Sir," the waitress came over. "Can I please ask that you remove that…thing? This is a family restaurant," she whispered.
Steve looke
d at her then me, then preacher, whose solemn head shake I could see out of the corner of my eye. "This is Betty," Steve said. "My…sister."
Tara cleared her throat.
"Their father was a Tupperware maker."
Oh fucking priceless.
"She's family," I echoed. "We're ready to order? If you don't mind?"
She stared from me to the others, torment on her face.
"I'll… be right back."
I took a deep breath and held Tara
's hand under the table. She gave me a big smile and then angled her head at Steve. "You and Betty resemble each other Steve."
His upper lip slowly rose on the right.
"She's a step sister." He slowly looked at her. "An ugly one," he muttered.
A man in a suit came to the table next and leaned to my ear.
"Please leave or I will have to call the police."
I gave him my most understanding smile.
"I understand, of course. Do whatever you need to." I looked around. "Is our waitress coming to take our order?"
He straightened and stared down at me like he wanted to carry me out himself. Then he took a breath, eyed Tara and Steve
and turned with a curt
police calling
stride. They couldn't come fast enough to suit me.
We didn
't have to wait long before our black-op looking robo-cop savior arrived with the manager in tow, pointing at us. "These." The offending cancer.
"
How are we going to do this?"
Preacher stood up and walked out.
I stood. "Sorry, we were just trying to have a family dinner."
Steve and Tara followed suit, Steve clutching Betty to his body.
"We're leaving," he said or huffed. "I didn't realize this town was prejudiced against handicapped women."
We all marched out of the restaurant with the police officer following us to the door. We hurried on as he stopped off at the
other group of manager looking people. I prayed he talked a while.
Once in the
Hummer and driving off, we all released a breath. Steve looked like he'd be ill as he clutched Betty to his body still.
"
It's good to see you with a woman, Steve," the preacher said, hysterical laughter in his tone.
Steve became aware of the plastic sexual offense and threw her on the floor.
"Now Steve," I scolded, "that's no way to treat Betty."
He looked down at her, his face twisted in disgust as he removed a shoe, ripped off a sock, and proceeded to stuff her mouth with it.
"That hole is the doorway to hell," he whispered, smoothing his flustered hair with a hand, looking at us. "An evil abyss," he assured with dead serious whisper that led to a five minute episode of laughing our asses off.
At least it was over with. Now we
'd just have to see what kind of score that gave us.