“Fuck you. Now, I hope you do get picked.” He smacked me on the back. “Payback, my brother. And if you get picked, so what? I could be doing you a favor. You get to be on a tropical island with a hot chick, or at least I’ve been told she’s not a chick with a dick.”
“You’ve seen her?”
“Well, no. But the original female was hot. When she backed out, I’m sure they picked an even hotter one.”
“Backed out? What if she’s a cougar looking for my blood?”
Luca laughed and mumbled, “Well, that would be fantastico,” while smacking his knee at his own little joke.
“Shut up.”
Kyle glanced at him and fought to hide a grin. “We could hope.”
“Cocksucker!”
“Relax. She’s not a cougar, although that would be awesome. The age bracket is between twenty-five and thirty-five. These are just details. The point is, it would be a nice getaway with a gorgeous stranger for six weeks. Compared to what you did to me, this is a fucking gift. Think of all the sex. How hot is that?” He lifted his beer and winked. “You’re welcome.”
“I can have sex whenever I want, and I don’t have to leave Manhattan.” I dragged a hand through my hair to keep it from gripping his neck. “Have you lost your ever-fucking-mind?” I asked, incredulous. “Who the fuck is going to run my company for six weeks? What I did was hilarious. What you is a felony. You forged my name!”
“Oh please. I perfected your signature years ago. It’s your word against mine in a court of law.” He pointed to Luca. “He knows nothing, so don’t think he’s a witness. And as far as your business, you have an international army. The finance world wouldn’t even miss you.”
The crowd went wild when the Ken doll waved before taking his seat on stage.
“Okay, we’re looking for Spark number two. Will George Kroft please come on up?”
I sighed in relief at the sound of a name other than mine. The same deal with dude number two occurred. He stood on the stage blushing through his introduction. His round face, protruding ears, and neck were all as red as a tomato. The man stood no taller than five-feet, and his beer belly deserved its own introduction.
Luca let out a short, loud laugh. “Oh boy, do I hope you get picked.”
Just as he said that, I heard “Spark number three. Can Jude Soren please join us?”
All three of our jaws dropped as the spotlight searched the crown for their last victim. Kyle stood and clapped my back, bringing attention to whom they were waiting for. The beam of light swung to where we were sitting, landing on me.
“I guess I lost my bet,” Kyle shouted above the crown. “What are the chances?”
“Yes, Kyle owes me a hundred,” Luca bragged.
“You fucking bet on this?” I scrubbed both hands through my hair and was surprised none came out at the roots. “What. If. She. Picks. Me?”
Luca leaned forward and raised his drink. “Just be your charming self, I’m sure she’ll want nothing to do with you.”
I was going to kill him—them. First him, then the other one. Dismember their bodies piece by piece. I began cursing everyone and everything in my native tongue, the Swedish words flying out like bullets.
“Dude! I have no idea what you’re saying.”
I leaned in, getting right in his face. “I never signed anything,” I said through gritted teeth.
Kyle snickered, “Oh yes you did. And if you don’t get up there, you’ll get sued.”
“I’ll get sued? You mean, you’ll get sued.”
“Potato, potahto.” He whipped out a folded packet of papers and thrust them in my hand. “I swear, I combed through it. You’re good.”
Before I could strangle him, the host brought the crowd’s attention straight to me with a wave of his hand. “Jude, come on up!” This chaos unfolded like a slow-motion picture. The spotlight captured the entire chain of events, with me yelling at Kyle and threatening his life.
And all this occurred while the host insisted, “Hello, we’re waiting. Do you already have a case of cold feet? The wedding isn’t for fort-two days.”
“Wedding?” I bared my teeth to Kyle like a Doberman about to attack. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“There’s a prenup clause that states you each take away what you brought in. She can’t get your money—unless you want her to, that is.”
Did he just say prenup? “I’m not doing this!” I threw my hands up, no longer giving a shit who heard me.
“Too late! Go!” He pushed me forward and I almost passed out as I walked through the crowd, up the stage, and beside the two hosts. I think I answered questions; I couldn’t be sure. Every set of eyes focused on me—the men leering and women hotting and hollering like I was a male stripper.
Busty eye-fucked me while placing a red clawed hand on my arm, and said in a breathy voice, “Are you ready to turn your spark into a raging flame?” Channelling a porn star, she added, “Jude.”
What the fuck was happening?
I searched the bar to where my asshole friends sat watching. Kyle and Luca were cracking up at my expense. A question forced my focus away from them and I fumbled through my answer. When I looked back, they were gone.
The only thought running through my head was, once this is over, I am going to jail for murder.
The two other victims sat in director’s chairs beside a large white screen that split the stage in half. A single chair on the other side of the divider waited for its occupant. The three of us wouldn’t be able to see her, nor could she see us, but the crowd had an open view of the entire stage.
Busty took my hand in hers, led me to my seat, and snatched the now damp and wilted papers from my grip.
Dipstick asked for the audience’s attention as he read through the rules one by one. I listened to bit and pieces, but words like true love, soulmates, marriage, happily ever after, and forty-two days were the only ones I heard in a long monotonous drawl.
“Okay, Sparks. Here we go. The only responses allowed must answer the question you are asked. At the end, you will each have the chance to ask one question of your own. It cannot pertain to any personal information, physical appearance, occupation, religion, politics, or finances. Please answer all questions honestly and be sure to be your own charming selves.”
A loud guffaw echoed from the crowd, and when I looked up, I saw Luca losing his shit while sitting beside Kyle at one of the round tables centered in front. Kyle kept reprimanding him, which seemed to fuel Luca’s hysterics.
Fuckers.
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Taming Mr. Flirt Page 27