My Last First Kiss

by Weston Parker

  I sighed and climbed out of the car, taking off my gloves and shoving them into my peacoat pockets. The driver grabbed my luggage from the back and headed inside to get me checked in. I smiled at a passing woman with her child and gave a nod, climbing the stairs. I reached down into my pocket and pulled out my phone, looking down at the screen. It was my PR agent, checking in on me as usual. She was more like my babysitter than my PR agent, but I supposed I probably could use her these days.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Did you get there okay?”

  “I did,” I said. “I’m walking into the, um, hotel as we speak.”

  “Good,” she said. “Make sure you smile at everyone, hold some conversations, and make yourself look like you fit in.”

  “I didn’t bring my overalls,” I whispered.

  “Anyway,” she said, ignoring my snide comment. “Your new venture is playing out very well in the press. Of course, no one has forgotten about your, well, we’ll just call it ‘the incident.’”

  “Do they ever forget about the bad stuff?”

  “Of course not. It sells papers, and you’re a gold mine these days, apparently,” she said. “Still, I’ve been working with a few select media outlets, ones that I have good, solid, trustworthy contacts with. I’ve been arranging tours and interviews for the next couple of weeks. I really hope they’ll project a serious image that will replace your current, more negative standing in the media. Something has to give, and we need this project to be a success for you.”

  “Right,” I said, climbing the stairs to the top floor where the company had rented out all the rooms. “Well, I’ll do my best to portray that image as well. How much trouble could I get into out here anyway? I’m not much into cow tipping.”

  “Oh, before I forget because I know you won’t remember, the fundraiser is tonight,” she said. “I told them you would be in attendance.”

  “I hate fundraisers,” I groaned, walking into my room and nodding at the driver as he set down my luggage and walked back out. “Everyone wants to talk.”

  “That’s kind of the point of it all.” She chuckled. “Besides, they may be out in the middle of nowhere, but they still follow the news. Going would be a gesture of goodwill, so you need to look nice, but try not to wear any suits that cost more than most of those people’s houses. Put a big smile on your face, and pull out your checkbook. You need to make a sizeable donation.”

  “I swear it costs more personal funds to start this project than it does to actually pay for the project itself.” I sighed. “But it’s for a good cause, so I can’t really complain.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “You can’t complain. Call me tomorrow morning, or I’ll call you.”

  “No doubt,” I replied, hanging up.

  I looked around the room for the first time since I had gotten there and had to admit, I was unenthused by the place I was staying in. It was clean. That was good, but it looked like something from my great-grandmother’s house, including the giant box television set. It was about as enthralling as the idea of going to this fundraiser tonight. Thank god, it wasn’t an auction. The last thing I wanted was to leave with a piece of farm equipment I didn’t need just to get the donation up high enough. I wasn’t even sure where the fundraiser was, but I was assuming it would be somewhere like a town hall or the gymnasium of the local high school. It definitely would be different from the ballrooms of Manhattan’s finest hotels, covered in flowers, chandeliers, and with champagne flowing like rivers.

  I turned and walked into the small-tiled bathroom, looking down at the one good thing I had found in the entire place, an old, antique clawfoot tub. It was oversized, which was perfect since I was pretty tall, but had all the charms of an old antique home. It would be the perfect thing to do before getting ready for the fundraiser that night. I put my bags to the side and sighed, turning on the water and undressing. As I sank into the hot, steamy water and laid my head back, I could feel the ease of tension in my shoulders. I wasn’t the guy who took baths very often, but after the shock of changing what felt like worlds coming from New York to the little town of Bonanza, I couldn’t imagine anything that would have made me more relaxed. Of course, my masseuse definitely would have helped, but that was not an option I had, nor did I think the town offered anything like that. I would make best with what I had and hope it was all worth it in the end.

  Chapter 2

  Sara

  Alison had been my best friend for most of my life, and though she was known to get me into some interesting situations, this one topped the list. I didn’t even know how it happened. One minute, everything was going fine, and the next minute, I was standing behind the stage feeling more nervous than I had in a really long time, including the time I puked during a fifth-grade chorus concert. I looked up at the grand ceilings of Grange Hall, watching the lights move and shift above. There were people on the catwalk of the stage, making sure everything was perfect. I, on the other hand, was standing backstage, wearing my decade-old prom dress, which was considerably tighter ten years later. It was the fanciest thing I had in my closet, and the last thing I was going to do was go shopping for a dress right before the event. I hated dresses, but I hated shopping even more, so I cinched up my waist and squeezed into the long, tight blue dress, hoping I didn’t pass out.

  Alison had been coined the planner for the event, and in her mind, she saw everything grand and sparkling. She seemed to forget we were in Grange Hall in Bonanza, Oregon, not some elegant hotel in New York City. She did her best, though, and I had to admit, she’d decorated it well for an event with a very low budget. She had insisted the event be formal and that we all wear floor-length gowns. I couldn’t tell if that request was to keep some of the town’s debutantes from wearing dresses shorter than appropriate or just because she liked the glitter of it all.

  It was the annual fundraiser for the Dream of Wind horse rescue. Dream of Wind was a sanctuary for injured or discarded horses, and it had been my best friend’s dream since she was a child. I could remember when we were kids sitting around her mother’s stables talking about the future. I was going to be a vet, and that’s what I became, but Alison had wanted to save the world. Luckily, she battened down those dreams a bit and focused on horses. I completely supported her dream from the beginning and made sure I got a degree that included large-breed animals like horses so I could help. I loved animals, no matter what they were, and Alison and I worked really well together. I volunteered almost all my free time to helping care for the animals. I went over in the mornings to administer medications, checked on them after work, and went over on the weekends to help her give physical therapy to the ones that needed it. My life was pretty much nothing but furry friends, but I was okay with that.

  Every year, Alison worked, planned, and barely slept just to make the fundraiser worth it. It was the bread and butter of the organization, and the money made from this one fundraiser pretty much fed all the horses for the entire year and helped maintain at least half of their medication. The rest of the funds came from other small events, sponsors, and me, of course, a sucker for an animal in need. She threw an enormous fundraiser, with everyone from town filing into Grange Hall for the event. Well, at least, it was huge if filling Grange Hall counted. By Bonanza standards, though, it was definitely a hot ticket. People waited all year to come to the event and see what craziness Alison had planned. They also liked to see the good things Bonanza was doing. The people of the town were all really down-home people. Most of them had hearts of gold and really viewed the world through Bonanza’s eyes. Alison’s project had been a hit since the first day and gave people a place to take their horses so they wouldn’t have to put them down.

  I worked every year right beside Alison, trying to get her fundraiser up and running. We had planned an auction of sorts for this year where we would auction off dates with the town’s most eligible girls. Everyone was excited about it, and I’d spent weeks going around getting the perfect women
to participate. However, as the event grew closer and then the day arrived, I found myself on the hook for more than making arrangements. I was one of the women to be auctioned off, and I was not happy about it in the least. Turned out, Miss Klamath County had a chemistry final the next day and couldn’t even make it to the event, much less the auction. I knew school was important, but I had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with her boyfriend and the fact that she didn’t want to end up on a date with some old farmer from down the road. When Alison had mentioned me, I had called that girl right up and begged her, telling her I would even call her professor and get a pass on the exam for a couple of days for her. She was resolute, though, so there I stood.

  Alison and I had argued about it for hours, and I told her I would find her a suitable replacement, but she wasn’t having it. She said Miss Klamath County had been the biggest draw to the event that year, and whoever was going to replace her had to be equally as awesome. I thought she was talking about someone else until she handed me the pin and told me to ditch the boots and replace them with a pair of heels for the night. I just about died. I had a pretty high self-esteem, and I was glad my best friend had such a high estimation of my appeal to the gentlemen in the crowd, but I thought she might be overhyping me just a bit. Almost everyone in town knew me as the girl constantly covered in something, whether it be dog hair or mud or worse. I doubted anyone in the crowd was chomping at the bit to go on a date with the one who’d neutered old Spot last winter or delivered the farm’s cows. Either way, I was there, and I was more than nervous.

  I was a small-town girl who grew up in a big, old farmhouse smack dab in the middle of a dairy farm. I went to a local college, got my degree, and moved back to Bonanza where I was the only veterinarian within a fifty-mile radius. I was an animal lover, not the belle of the ball, but Alison thought differently, and I didn’t know if that was her yearning for the fundraiser to go well or her clouded view of how desirable her best friend really was. I did know one thing, though. If I didn’t fall down at some point because of the heels, it would be a miracle.

  I peeked out through the curtains and shuttered at the crowd gathered outside. Everyone in town was there, decked out in their best clothes. Even old, plain Mrs. Weatherby, the local grocer’s wife had dolled herself up. This was going to be an interesting evening. Just then, I looked down as Alison’s hands slid around my waist, and she squeezed me tightly. I groaned, feeling what little air was in my lungs quickly extinguish.

  “You look beautiful,” she whispered. “Seriously, you haven’t looked this girlie since, well, ever actually. Didn’t you wear rain boots with this dress at prom?”

  “It was raining,” I said in my defense. “And my date had decided dinner on the farm was going to be romantic. I looked like a drowned rat by the time I got to prom. The only thing still dry on me were my feet.”

  “Well, you look beautiful now, and that’s all that matters,” she said.

  “This is only slightly true if I can somehow figure out how to keep my gut sucked in all night long.” I laughed. “Then, I have to worry about whether my brain has enough oxygen getting to it.”

  “Glamourous people can’t afford to breathe comfortably,” she said, laughing. “I don’t think I’ve breathed comfortably in public since we were kids and naturally had no gut.”

  Just hearing the sound of our laughter calmed my nerves. Alison had always had that effect on me, lightening the mood when I thought I would completely fall apart. I knew I was taking the whole thing too seriously, but Alison wasn’t the one to have to go on a date with a random guy after the fundraiser was over. Alison’s on and off again boyfriend, Jimmy, made sure she didn’t become one of the girls being auctioned, and Alison knew he’d spend his entire savings account to keep another guy away from her.

  I stepped to the side as the other girls talked loudly and began to line up backstage. They were all girly girls, either pageant contestants or local girls Alison knew would bring in the money. I was the only one there with a down and dirty job, and that was going to be interesting to watch. Alison walked up beside me with her notes in her hand.

  “So, Jimmy forgot the one thing I asked him not to forget when we were bringing everything over to the hall today,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The damn twinkle lights, which you know are one of the most important parts of the decorations.”

  “Oh, no,” I fake-gasped. “Not the twinkle lights.”

  “Yep,” she said, shaking her head. “I told him to walk his ass back over to the house and get them back to the hall ASAP. On his way back, they came undone, and he showed up with them wrapped around himself, trying to keep them from dragging. I coaxed him over to the wall and plugged them in, letting him stand there twinkling in front of everyone.”

  “You guys are ridiculous.” I laughed. “Like two old married people.”

  “Don’t curse me like that,” she whispered with a smile. “All right. It’s showtime, girl.”

  “Please, take it easy on me,” I begged. “Just get me on and off that stage as fast as possible, and ignore any bids from my ex.”

  “I got you on the ex-part,” she smiled with a wink.

  “Alison,” I said with an authoritative tone.

  She ignored me and waved, walking off onto the stage. I could hear everyone in the audience begin to quiet as Alison approached the microphone. All the girls in line were whispering and giggling excitedly, and then there was me, clawing at my dress and letting out a deep sigh. I knew it was too much to ask her to go easy on me. She was enjoying my suffering and pain way too much to quit at that point. I would just have to suck it up and smile, knowing the night’s auction would really help out the horses back at the stables.

  “First, I want to thank everyone for coming out to our annual fundraiser benefiting my nonprofit organization, Dream of Wind,” she said into the mic. “Also, I would like to thank the town council for donating Grange Hall for the event.”

  She paused, letting everyone clap and cheer loudly. When the crowd had calmed, she cleared her throat. It was time for the rules.

  “The auction tonight will be for one evening of dinner for the highest bidder with the girl they bid on,” she said. “Let’s remind everyone of what happened last year with the black eye, so boys, be polite to your dates, and everyone remember, the money goes to an amazing cause. Let’s first start with Bridgett Alloy from right here in Bonanza.”

  Alison went through girl after girl, saving me for last. She had completely ignored my request, but it didn’t surprise me in the least. Finally, after everyone else had gone, I heard my name called. I took in a deep breath and walked out under the lights, a complete bundle of nerves.

  Chapter 3

  Ryan

  “So nice to meet you,” I said, plastering a smile on my face as I met each of the town elders.

  They were all very nice, though I was afraid that as old as they were, I might break something shaking each of their hands. Grange Hall was small and smelled like musty wood, kind of like my grandfather’s basement in New York. I had to admit, though, it was fairly tastefully decorated … if you squinted when looking at the Christmas lights decorating every available surface, and they twinkled too. How nice. I was on my third whiskey, and I needed to remember to thank the organizers for including a bar along with the cheap spaghetti dinner and salad bar that I paid for but passed on.

  The first round of the auction was fairly simple, and I had bid a thousand dollars for an overnight at a local winery bed-and-breakfast, figuring if I didn’t use it while I was there, I would give it as a gift to one of the councilmen and his wife. The bid was well above the hundred-dollar previous bid, and I was satisfied with my purchase. I figured it would be enough to build some goodwill with the town and help out a cause that was actually pretty neat for a small town like this. If nothing else, my PR rep would get off my tail for at least a few hours, and I might get to drink some wine later on in the week. I looked down at the time and then
around the room, making sure I had said hello to all the important people. I figured it was about time I hit the road and headed back to my hotel for the night. I was pretty sure I saw a liquor store on the way over and could make sure to stock up on some whiskey for the hotel room. I had a feeling I was going to need it while I was there.

  As I turned, the owner of the organization took the stage again, announcing the next round of auctions. I laughed to myself, realizing it was going to be a girl auction. I tried to hide a smirk as all the guys shimmied up to the front, and the women stood in the back gossiping to each other. Why did every fundraiser run by a woman include the same old song and dance? It was like it was written into code that if you had a fundraiser and you were a woman, you had to auction each other off like cattle. You bid whatever you wanted and tried for a date with one of the town’s most eligible women. The women seemed to be as excited as the men about the whole thing, and I had a feeling this was a really big deal in Bonanza, though from the comment about the black eye, last year didn’t sound too successful. Maybe it was some weird rite of passage for a woman, or maybe it was just a really good way of drawing money from the men’s tight pockets.

  I turned and stuck my hands in my pockets, unable to look away. It was like a train wreck, and I had to see who was going to come out on that stage. I mean, what kind of women could really be left eligible in a Podunk town like Bonanza? Most of the women grew up looking for a husband so they could raise some children and eventually become one of the snickering old women in the back. As the girls started walking out on the stage and interviewed with the perky emcee, I found myself actually surprised at how well put together and hot they all were. There was no one I was interested in bidding on, but they were definitely more interesting than the New York City socialites I was used to seeing at functions like this. They had spunk to them, and I could tell almost every single one of them had a twinkle in their eye, looking for the next husband in line. It was both amusing and incredibly interesting to watch.