by Erin Havoc
Hazel’s arm is draped over Oreo again as she snores into his ear. My dog has given up on raiding the food, so he’s laid down on the rug, desolation creeping across his face.
Lis jabs a finger into the back of Hazel’s knee, where we know she’s especially ticklish. She jerks and sits up, blinking lazily.
“So...” Hazel’s eyes go from me to Lis and back. “We were trying to find someone to grab Christine’s titties?”
Lis and I look at each other before sighing.
“Yes,” I resume, “pretty much that.”
“Do you have a Tinder account?” Hazel drops an arm around Oreo, trying to reach for my phone with the other hand. I scoff before turning to Lis, expecting her to laugh with me, but her face doesn’t change.
“No.” I shove my phone underneath my leg. Protection purposes. “Why would I?”
“Dude. I thought you were looking for someone to bang?” Hazel smirks. “You have to start somewhere.”
“But Tinder? I’ve heard it’s no man’s land. Dick pics and all.”
“Well, you’ll receive those, but not because it’s Tinder.” Lis drags my phone from underneath my leg before I’m able to stop her. “Guys do that sometimes. Block whoever does this and head to the next one. Unless it’s an amazing dick.”
“They can just download a nice dick pic from the Internet, though.” I curl my nose, hoping, wishing she’ll let me off that hook.
“That’s true, I had one like that.” Hazel nods twice, her face turning gloomy. “It surely wasn’t the same dick as the pic.”
“So you’ll make me create a Tinder profile, receive dick pics and talk to pervs expecting someone to be nice?” I eye the two, abandoning my glass and crossing my arms.
“You don’t need them to be nice, Christine. You want them to be hot so you can have amazing sex and orgasm until your head explodes. That’s what they need to be.” Lis still swipes and clicks around my phone screen.
“I don’t know, I don’t even feel it’s safe.” I fold my arms around myself, trying to sink into the couch.
“We’ll create a profile, you’ll choose some guys, chat with them and meet up with some hotties in some public place.” Lis voices, eying Hazel. She hums for a moment. “Like Hazel’s café.”
Hazel nods hard. “Yes! Then we can agree on a sign or something, like a wink, or a whistle, and if something goes wrong, I’ll save you!”
“A whistle?” I groan, feeling worse.
“Hazel’s drunk, but the idea applies. She’ll keep an eye on you when she’s sober, so if the date sucks, or if you think the guy’s in the Red Market or something, you call for help.” Lis nods, turning back to my phone. “Name: Christine Harper. Age: 22. Let’s think of a description.”
“Don’t send dick pics unless they’re incredible and for real.” Hazel tries with a smile. Lis ignores her, still waiting for me.
This is going south so much faster than I anticipated. And to think my worst fear was Lis’s reaction to my debt.
“I don’t know, tell the truth. I’m a photographer, I like animals, and I’m looking for a casual thing.” My face grows warmer. Saying it out loud makes it feel real. And dirty.
Lis types away with an evil smirk on her face that makes me bristle. When she clicks “Next”, I expect her to give me the phone back, but she chooses the pictures to upload herself. Hazel watches, scratching Oreo’s back as he eyeballs the distant food in misery.
“Done,” Lis declares moments later, straightening herself with a proud smile that most certainly means my doom. “Let’s pick some guys.”
“What did you write?” I ask, unsure if I want to know the answer.
“The truth, like you said.” She bats her lashes, scooting closer to me with the phone in hand. Her answer doesn’t make me feel any better. “Look, look at this one.”
Hazel sits to my left, eying the guys as I swipe left or right, but never manage to retrieve my phone from Lis’s claws. I’m swiping right the second guy out of ten and Lis groans at my hesitations when a stranger in an open dark jacket and hard abs shows up.
“Ooh,” Hazel sings, jolting upright. “Who’s that?”
“Jasper, 42.” Lis grins. She swipes at his pictures, different angles of his hard pecs, defined arms and back, his dark short hair just barely showing in images that purposely hide or cut his face. Many of them have him in a suit, toasting or making speeches. “Someone doesn’t want to be recognized.”
“You think he’s a celebrity? He lives here in town.” Hazel touches a finger to her chin.
“Or,” I start, catching their attention, “he downloaded these pictures from the Internet and is cutting the face so the model won’t sue him.” The two frown at me as if I’ve ruined their fantasies. Come on, man, I’m not about to be catfished here. “What? That is so the biggest possibility.”
“I think it’s worth a shot. What if he’s real?” Lis raises her finger to swipe right, but I stop her with a hand on her wrist.
“If he is that hot, there’s no way he’s going to go out with me.”
“How can you be so sure?” Hazel puts a strand of inky hair behind her ear. “You’re hot! Let him decide if he enjoys curves or not.”
“I haven’t even read his profile.” I try one last time.
As if expecting it, Lis tilts a side of her mouth in a cocky smile, then clears her throat. “Jasper, 42. Literally just want to fuck. Why else would I be here?”
My jaw snaps open. “What! That’s…” A blush covers my face and neck and I’m blessed the light’s dim or they’d tease me to the end of my days.
“Stop complaining so much.” Lis swipes at his toned six-pack. “I thought that’s what you were looking for. If he matches, talk to him. If he’s interesting, go out with him. If he’s like the pictures, fuck him. There are a lot of If’s there for you to back off if it goes wrong. You don’t need to sleep with him on the first date.”
I sulk, but she’s right. I can say no at any given time to any of those guys if they ever match me.
After I decline two others and Hazel’s head hits my shoulder as she dozes off, Lis clicks the screen of my phone off, putting it away. She adjusts her blond hair as I poke Hazel’s forehead twice.
“Let’s put her to sleep.” Lis helps Hazel up as I take the nacho bowl up and away from Oreo’s begging eyes. “Wanna finish those nachos while we watch TV?” She adds as I walk into the kitchen.
“Sure. But only if you don’t talk about Tinder.” I smile, but Lis rolls her dark eyes.
“Girl, I just want you to find a comfortable dick to ride.”
“I know. I just don’t think that’s the place for me to find that comfortable dick.”
“Something tells me I should bet on it.” Lis winks, dragging Hazel inside my room and dumping her on my bed.
I snigger as I set foot into the kitchen. I love this new ambition inside me — wanting to have fun, wanting to feel good. Feel empowered and sexy.
Finding a guy that makes me feel so already seems a far-fetched idea. And expecting that from a hard man like Jasper? That sounds much more like fantasy than anything Princess Bride can offer me.
02
* * *
JASPER
T
oday.
Today is the day I’m finally killing one of my employees.
Gritting my teeth together, I close my eyes. No. It’s an illusion. I’m exhausted and these numbers are part of a complex hallucination.
But when I open my eyes again, they’re still there. The sheet of paper is still in front of me over my desk, the spreadsheet still showing me the same nonsense.
What a marvelous coincidence. What a beautiful aberration of nature that every single one of my stocks went up to round numbers. Not a single decimal one.
As if someone had rounded them up. Exactly how I told them not to do.
It was such a simple task. The software collects the data. Why the fuck did someone feel compelled to round the fucking number
s up?
A vein pulses in my forehead. I reach out to press a digit against it.
This business will kill me, I tell you. Who the hell rounds up numbers like this?
Who the fucking hell has done this sloppy mess of a job?
Because I’m hunting them down.
Punching the branch line to my assistant, I give him two seconds to pick up. If he doesn’t, I’m yelling him in here.
He does pick up after the first ring. “Yes, Mr Woods?”
My voice comes out as a low, threatening roar. “Who the fuck has done this stocks report?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Peter West, sir. He has just left. Would you like me to contact him?”
Option number one: I could fire him through the phone. I could even order my assistant to fire him through the line.
Option number two: I could summon him in here and scream at him until his ancestors are aware of the dishonor he is to his family.
Yes. That option sounds so much better. It would probably help with my humor too.
“Get him here. Right now,” I roar, turning to slam the phone.
“Sir?” Daniel calls before I manage to snap the phone in half between my fingers.
“What?”
His voice pitches higher, stuttering. He should be used to these days of mine. The days I almost have a stroke dealing with how lousy my employees are. “Your sister is here.”
Ugh. “I don’t have time for that—”
The words are barely past my lips when my door swings open.
Annie doesn’t know the limits of privacy.
“Hey, Jasper!” She sways inside and shuts the door behind her.
“I’m busy, Annie,” I try, though I’ve learned it’s useless to fight her.
She waves a hand in dismissal. “You’re the CEO. You surely can take five minutes off.”
Annie plops down into a chair across from me and crosses her legs. She’s in a sunny yellow dress and a hat. Pulling her sunglasses out, she leaves them on my desk before she beams at me.
She was in brunch with mom. I can tell.
And they had been talking about me.
“How’s it going?” She leans forward, batting her lashes.
I release a sigh, pressing my hands together in front of me. “Great. Everything is great.”
She cocks a brow. “Great? I heard you yelling.”
“Running a company is no walk in the park, Annie…”
“I know,” she cuts me in. “So stressful dad had a heart attack. And it doesn’t look like you’re treading a different path.”
I have heard this a thousand times. How I should take some time off, relax. Mom loves to tell me I need a wife to go home to.
The business needs me. Being a CEO means you don’t have a nine-to-five job. It’s a twenty-four-seven, no days off. There’s always something to figure out, something to fix.
Some bastard to fire because he can’t make a simple spreadsheet the way you told him to.
“Sis.” I take a deep breath, evening my voice out. “It’s a demanding job. Besides, you don’t need to worry about me having a heart attack. My heart’s fine, I go to the gym every day before I come here.”
“Yeah, I noticed. I mean, what’s the point of getting all buffed up if you don’t have a girlfriend, anyway?” She points to my arms.
My wide, muscular form wasn’t the goal when I started working out. It’s simply a consequence of a disciplined life. My morning routine includes running, and I always lift weights when I’m stressed out.
And I’m constantly stressed out.
I lean forward on my elbows. “Of course it would go down this path, uh? Girlfriends. As if I had time for that.”
She rolls her eyes. “Jasper, you’re almost fifty! How the hell is a good-looking, rich, burly man like you still single?”
“First, I’m not almost fifty.”
“Forty-two. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
Siblings.
I press my hands to my eyes. “Second. It’s exactly because I’m rich that I avoid this shit. You know that.”
“Just because your last girlfriends were gold-diggers doesn’t mean every girl out there is.”
“But how am I supposed to know, Annie? They didn’t come with tags warning me off them.”
She crosses her arms, her eyes unfocused as she hums. “A way for you to meet a girl without her knowing you’re rich…”
“Is this the reason you’ve come here?”
She nods with unabashed pride. “I met mom for brunch. She’s worried, you know? Every time we get in here, you’re screaming at someone.”
I frown. “I am not.”
She splays her hands above the desk, leaning forward. “Go on, bro. Try to remember a time we visited you and you were not screaming at some sub-par employee.”
I open my mouth, ready to give her an example.
But the example doesn’t come.
So I clench my jaw, clearing my throat. “This isn’t important now. What matters is that I have a duty to fulfill and a company to run.”
“If you don’t take some time off, you’ll have a heart attack like dad did and you won’t be able to work. You’ll have to retire early. What’s the point of working this much if you can’t use the money you’ve made?”
“Money is not everything, Annie. There’s personal satisfaction…”
“In running a finance company?” She derides. “Please, Jasper. I know you want to do your best so dad’s proud of you. But right now, you’re going too far. You barely see them. All the time the two of us have are the ones I burst into your office and impose my presence.”
Once more, I open my mouth to disagree. But that would be a lie.
A groove deepens between my brows. Since when have I been doing this?
Annie lives in the city so it’s easier to see her. Even so, she has to come and kick my door open and say “you’re the CEO, you can take five minutes off.”
But mom and dad? They live an hour from here, and I only see them for the holidays.
Guilt eats up my stomach. Even in the holidays, I’m usually with my phone in hand.
I want to make them proud. But something tells me that’s not the way.
“You’re right.” I sigh, flopping back against the chair. “You’re right. I’ll try to visit them more often.”
She shakes her head, her black hair hitting her chin. “Not only that.” She points a manicured forefinger at me. “You have to promise you’ll also try something else.”
“What?”
“A girlfriend.”
I bite back a frustrated sigh. “Annie…”
“I’ve thought of something.” She reaches out and clutches my phone. “Of a way for you to meet girls without them knowing you’re filthy rich.”
“How?”
She opens a sly grin, typing away at my phone. “Tinder.”
Tinder.
I blink slowly at her. “Dating app? Really? I’m not that desperate, Annie.”
She scorns. “It’s not about being desperate, dear brother. It’s about finding people who don’t know you.”
“How the hell do you think this is going to work? You want me to date someone who doesn’t know who she’s talking to?”
She holds up a hand. “Calm down. We just have to be selective.”
I let her install the app and select some photos for a profile. I can’t believe I’m letting her do that.
But anything for her to stop pestering me about this.
“So here’s my plan.” She turns the phone, the screen facing me.
I squint. “Why the hell are my pictures headless?”
“It’s like magic.” She grins as if that has been the best part of her plan. “It’s misdirection. They’ll see you’re hot, they’ll feel challenged by your description. They won’t give a shit about you having money or not.”
“Really? So you expect women to want to talk to me based on my abs?” Flawless plan.
Sh
e scoffs. “You’ll be surprised by how many will do that.”
I tap a finger to the arm of my chair. “I don’t like this.”
“Why? Because they’ll think you’re hot?” She snorts. “Please, Jasper. They’ll want to talk to you. If you think they’re nice enough, take them out. On job description, I’ve put ‘finances’, so they won’t know you’re a CEO. When you meet a girl, just grab an Uber instead of taking the town car and don’t take her to your place for a while.” She beams at me. “You’ll have your chance to judge them first and choose what you’ll reveal.”
“But what about a profile page? Don’t you have to write something there?”
She shrugs. “I’m baiting. I’ll say you just want one-night stands, so the girls will be interested in trying to break you.” She winks.
What? “What?”
“Marketing, brother. A man that doesn’t date is a challenge.”
“This is ludicrous.”
“It’s real life.” She slams the phone on my desk. “And you’re going to choose some girls to talk to. Swipe left to deny, right to accept. If they’re interested in you, you’ll match and be able to message each other.” She juts her chin at me. “Go on. I’ll wait.”
“You’ll wait?” I curl my nose as I pick the phone.
“Yeah. If I leave this to you, I know you won’t do it.”
This time, I don’t bite back the sigh. It comes deep from within my soul.
“I need to work, Annie.”
“It’s Saturday morning, you should be sleeping. If you want to get work done, you better do it fast.”
She’s headstrong, I know this much.
Or should I say obdurate?
Swiping at the screen, I make quick work of dismissing several women. If there’s something I abhor is the kind of pictures social media promotes. Duck-faces and fake smiles. No honesty.
Annie stretches her neck to peek at the screen, so I pull the phone closer as I decline another girl. It’s harder than I thought. Maybe my expectations of wanting someone real are too high.
I just wanted an open, authentic smile.
Then I see her.
Something turns upside down inside me. Time itself freezes.
