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Accidental Man Whore

Page 4

by Katherine Stevens


  Jacob leans back on the couch and puts his hands behind his head. “We got this, Dad. Ben and I will get the money you need. No problem. Just try not to get ass cancer again.”

  I wish I had his confidence. I don’t know where we’re going to get this much money, and fast. I take another bite of my apple. I could maybe sell some of that designer pot or cocaine. I don’t know what the profit margins are on that, though. Miami has been so saturated with drugs for so long that I doubt a newcomer can break into the business. Plus, there are the turf wars and I don’t want someone to make an example of me. Hanging upside down from a tree with my severed dick in my mouth doesn’t help my dad.

  Dad picks up his magazine. “I better not find a half-eaten apple laying around my house again.”

  ***

  I go into my client’s management office the next morning. I’m hoping they have some other buildings I can take care of. I’ve got to make money somehow.

  The receptionist waves at me and smiles when I walk in. “Hi, Ben! Is there anything I can help you with? Anything at all?”

  I know she has a crush on me. I’m only twenty-six, but she’s barely legal and I’m not going anywhere near that. I’m not one of those guys who pretends I don’t know women like me. Yes, I use that to my advantage. Yes, I might have flirted with whatever-her-name-is at the front desk to get my foot in the door here. Women use boobs to get stuff all the time. Hell, I’ve given all kinds of things to women because of their boobs. I believe in equality. I want to cash in on the same sexist benefits women get.

  “Hey, you!” God, I am such an asshole for not knowing her name. “Is Solana in?”

  I’m wearing a tight shirt today that shows off all the crunches I do. It’s bordering on pathetic, but I’m whoring myself out for my dad. That has to count for something.

  What’s-her-name giggles. “She’s in her office. You can go in.” She giggles again. Wearing this shirt isn’t fair to the poor girl.

  I wink at her and walk into Solana’s office. “Good morning, Solana. How are you?” I’m second-guessing the shirt. I’m trying to sound professional, but all I can think about are how my nipples must look like headlights.

  She stops typing and turns her chair toward me. “Good morning, Ben! This is a nice surprise.” She makes eye contact with my nipples first and points to the chairs in front of her desk. “Have a seat.”

  I sit down and try not to think about how much I need more business. I don’t want to sound as desperate as I feel. “It’s been a few months since we’ve talked.” I decide to just dive right in. “I love working with your buildings. I was hoping you had more opportunities for expansion.” That sounded professional. Despite my nipple shirt.

  Her smile falls a little and I already know the answer. “Ben, you’re doing a great job for the company. All the tenants love you. Unfortunately, we don’t have any other buildings that need your services right now. If that changes, you know you’ll be the first one I call.”

  Shit. I was really counting on her to toss me at least one more job. That’s the fastest way to bring in more money. I have a couple of credit cards I can use to get Dad’s treatment started. That’s supposed to be a last resort, though. Steed talked me into freezing both the cards in blocks of ice. I should probably pull those damn things out tonight and start thawing them.

  I put a fake smile on my face. “I appreciate that, Solana. I’m always happy to have your business.”

  She matches my fake smile because everything is awkward now. “And we’re happy to have you. Please come back anytime.” She pulls her fake smile wider across her face. It’s not a good look for her. I can’t get out of here fast enough. I’m like the guy who gets shot down at a bar but doesn’t take the hint and leave.

  I get up and walk to the door. “Have a nice day, ladies.” I can’t think of anything else to say, especially since I don’t know the name of the girl winking at me while I exit. I can’t lie—that stung. I need fast cash. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be an honest person. Plenty of people in this city snort all their money and manage to get along just fine. Steed is a hedge fund manager. I don’t even know what that means, but he says most of his co-workers could finance a revolution in a small country with the money they put up their nose. I wish those assholes would write my dad a check instead. That would make this whole thing a lot easier.

  I go back to the van to get my watering can and the utility belt that holds my pruning shears and such. Putting a belt around this shirt only brings out my nipples more. I’m never wearing this shirt outside the gym again. I decide to save Elite Entertainment Services for last. That’s Stephanie’s office and I can’t go in there feeling sorry for myself. I haven’t given up hope on picking up one of her employees when my life is back to normal. And I don’t know why, but I have the feeling I should never show Stephanie weakness. The image of being gagged and tied to her bed pops back into my mind.

  I have to get my head back in the plant business. I can look for places with help wanted signs on the way home. I stop in the first office suite and see my fern sitting on the corner of Martha’s desk. It’s brown. There’s not one speck of green left on it. I had no idea you could kill a plant that fast.

  Martha pops up as soon as she sees me. “I don’t know what happened, Ben. I did everything you told me to do.” She’s wringing her hands.

  I touch a leaf and it breaks off. “Did you mist it with water every couple of days?”

  “I think so.” She wrings her hands faster. “Do you think you can bring it back?”

  Jesus couldn’t bring this plant back. “I don’t have those kinds of powers, Martha. This one’s a goner.”

  Her face droops like a cartoon dog. I don’t know how to deal with sad women other than to give them whatever they want. “How about we try an aloe vera plant? That might be more your speed.”

  She instantly smiles. At least I know how to fix Martha. Give her a plant to kill and she’s happy. I wish all women were this easy to please.

  “I don’t have one with me today, but I’ll bring one next week. I promise.” I hate that I think about how her $2.00 plant will cut into my profit margin when I need every cent I can get.

  “That sounds great, Ben! Thank you so much!” She looks like she won the lottery. All she’s getting is the closest thing you can get to a cactus without being a cactus, but she’s happy.

  “Sure thing. I’ll see you next week.” I take the dead plant with me so I can put it in the outside trashcan. No need to dispose of it near its murderer.

  I work my way through the other offices in the building and the routine helps me clear my head. I’ll find a way to pay for Dad’s surgery and treatment. I started my own business at twenty-five, so I know I’m resourceful.

  I stop in the bathroom before I go into Elite Entertainment. I like to look my best. The first thing I notice when I look in the mirror is my stupid nipples. I wash my hands and rinse my face. My tan is fading. Steed and I haven’t been to the beach in a few weeks. I usually stay pretty dark. I know what they say about staying out of the sun, but it’s Miami. How am I supposed to live in this city and not go in the sun?

  My dark blond hair is doing whatever it wants, like always. I gave up on product in high school. It has a mind of its own. It got that from my dad. He still has a full head of thick hair while most of his friends are balding.

  I make a last-ditch effort to push my nipples back into my skin, but that’s pointless. I open the door to the Elite suite, expecting to find the usual group of fantasy women, but it’s empty. There’s no one at the front desk. I don’t hear the normal chatter from the back offices. My dick feels like the sad cartoon puppy now.

  “Hello?” I call.

  Stephanie pops out of her office like a sexual Jack-in-the-Box. “Benjamin, I’m so happy to see you. Your timing could not be better.”

  I jump and I know she sees. Why does she always catch me off guard? “Are you closed today? Should I come back another day?” I’m
twice her size, but I’m scared to be alone with her. She turns me into the biggest pussy.

  “Today is perfect, Benjamin. Come into my office and have a seat.” She turns and walks back into her office. Her skirt is so tight, she might as well not have it on at all.

  I think again of the film my high school science teacher made us watch on the praying mantis, and I’m more scared than ever to follow her. I’m not a religious person, but I start praying. But not like a mantis.

  She’s already behind her desk when I walk in. She points to a chair. “Sit.”

  I don’t even think about it. I just sit like a trained dog. I put the watering can on my lap. I don’t know if I think the plastic is going to protect my dick, or what. This woman throws me off.

  Her arms make a tent on the desk in front of her. I’ve never noticed how long her fingernails are. They’re almost claws. Blood red claws. “We have all hands on deck today, Benjamin. Today is an important day for an important client. One of my male employees has come down with the flu and left me in a bad position, Benjamin. And I don’t like being in a bad position, Benjamin. I only like being in the good ones.”

  This is news to me because I didn’t realize any men even worked here. I’ve only seen the finest examples of females in this office. I don’t say anything because I still don’t know what this has to do with plants.

  Stephanie looks at me like she might have seen the praying mantis video in school, too. “I promised my client I would have a certain number of employees at his party tonight, Benjamin, and I’m one short. I’m over a barrel and that’s not where I want to be.” She runs a fingernail across the glass top of her desk. “Bent over a desk would be just fine, but I don’t like being over a barrel.”

  I’m getting the hint that this conversation may never have anything to do with plants. Stephanie is gorgeous, but I don’t fuck scary women. I’ve fucked my share of crazy ones, but I won’t ever touch a scary one. “Is there something you need, Stephanie?”

  She flattens her palms against the desk. “I need a lot of things, Benjamin. And I always get what I need. But what I would like is for you to help me out tonight with this client.”

  I still don’t know what she’s talking about. I thought they planned parties and made balloon arches and shit. I’m not sure what that has to do with me. “I’m not following. What is it that you want me to do?”

  She gets up, walks around, and perches on the edge of her desk in front of me. “Benjamin, my company supplies interesting, intelligent, and attractive people for events. They keep the conversations flowing and the guests entertained. My clients pay well for this service, and they expect me to provide what I’ve promised.” She crosses her long legs. “Benjamin, I think you are interesting, intelligent, and attractive.”

  I liked it better when there was a desk between us. “So you want me to go to a party and…?”

  “And be yourself. That’s all. I would like you to keep the guests entertained with your… assets.”

  She’s looking at my nipples.

  “So I just go talk to people?” This makes no sense. I have questions.

  “You can do whatever you like as long as the guests are having a good time. This job pays $1,000.00 for the night.”

  I can’t remember my questions. That’s one-fiftieth of what I need for Dad. Making a thousand dollars in one night would be huge. “I can do that. Hand me a W-9 and I’ll fill it out for you right now.” This is too good to be true. I don’t want her to take this offer back.

  She smiles without showing any of her teeth. “I was hoping you would agree, Benjamin.” She walks back around her desk and sits in her chair. “Now, my accountant is on vacation this week. Let’s not bother with any paperwork. I’ll just pay you out of the petty cash.”

  This is even better. I won’t have to pay taxes on it at the end of the year. Finally, some good news. “Sounds great. What do you need me from me?”

  “So eager.” She pulls out a note pad and pen. “I like this side of you, Benjamin.”

  I am eager to make money, so I can ignore her overly sexual comments. I can ignore a lot of things if it keeps me from being an orphan.

  She hands me the notepad and pen. “Write down your address and phone number.”

  Sticking with the trained dog role, I write down my info and hand it back to her.

  “Thank you, Benjamin. I’ll have a car at your house at exactly 8:30 p.m. The driver will have a suit and accessories for you. You will wear those and only those items I send. The driver will give you his card and he will pick you up at the end of the event.” She sounds more like a robot reciting a script than a person.

  I’m starting to have questions again, but I need this gig. “Let me give you my sizes.” I reach for the notepad, but she pulls it back.

  “You’re a forty-two long, Benjamin. Thirty-four-inch waist and inseam. Size eleven shoe.”

  My mouth opens. That’s spot on. “How did you know that?”

  She puts the notepad and pen inside her desk. “It’s my job to know that, Benjamin. Now, if there will be nothing else, I have work to do. Be ready for the car at 8:30. You can come by in the morning to pick up your payment. I appreciate your assistance. I think this could be a lucrative arrangement for both of us.” She looks away and starts typing on her Mac. I think that means I’m supposed to go. At least she didn’t try to grope me this time. Maybe there’s hope yet.

  I walk out to the van in a daze. I can’t wait to tell Jacob I made a small dent in the medical bills. I call him on the way home. He sounds more excited than I am. I know we agreed to split the bills 50/50, but there’s no way he can come up with twenty-five grand in short order. Hell, I don’t know if I can do it. But Jacob’s not done being a kid yet. He’s more at a loss on how to be an adult than I am. But I have a ferret with birth trauma, so I’ve had to step up my game.

  I walk in the door and Mr. T skitters from his miniature hammock to his food bowl. I put him in his Thug Life shirt today. The tight shirts have helped with the anxiety. I know there’s a badass ferret in there somewhere. I wonder if there are ferret dating sites. If he could stop gnawing off his fur, I bet he would slay all the ferret pussy.

  “How’s it hanging, Mr. T?” It’s not time for him to eat again, so I walk by his food bowl like I don’t see him. I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Did you sleep all day? You’ll probably sleep while I’m gone tonight and then keep my ass up all night running around. I’m already pissed off at you.”

  Mr. T runs a lap around the living room and comes back to his bowl. He’s such a shit. I don’t know why I like him so much.

  I hear my front door unlock and Steed walks in. He’s freakishly tall. I’m 6’2” and he makes me look like his little brother. All the women assume he’s a basketball player and he lets them. I love when they follow us out of clubs, expecting us to hop in a Lamborghini, and the valet pulls up in my Plant Doctor windowless van. Steed never thinks it’s funny, but I literally live for that moment. It’s the price he pays when I’m the designated driver and can’t afford a cab.

  “What are you doing here?” I toss a new bottle of water to him because I know he’s going to ask for one in two seconds anyway.

  He catches it with his left hand because he probably could be a basketball player if he tried, and lays down on my couch. His legs stick out way past the armrest. “I’m here to pregame, fucknuts. Why do you think I’m here?”

  I sit down on the old chair next to the couch. “Pregame for what?” I honestly can’t remember having plans.

  He grabs the remote and turns on the TV. “What do you mean for what? I told you I’m taking you out tonight to get laid. You’ve been super stressed about your dad and you need to bust a nut before you go crazy.”

  Oh, that. I totally forgot. “About that… I’ve had a change of plans.”

  Mr. T must’ve heard Steed’s voice because he comes running into the room and skids into the coffee table. He scampers up the couch and cur
ls up on Steed’s chest. The little shit.

  “I don’t know why he likes you better. I’m the one that rescued him and gives him food and shelter.” I glare at the back of Mr. T’s head.

  Steed pets his head. “Dude, you didn’t rescue him. You bought him at a pet store. Stop making it sound so dramatic. He probably likes me better because I adopt, I don’t shop.”

  I knock his legs off the armrest and onto the floor. “Don’t quote bumper stickers at me, you idiot.”

  “Dude, you got him from a store.” Mr. T looks traitorously blissed out on his chest. “Do you know how socially irresponsible that is, man?”

  I can’t deal with him right now. “How many times have you pissed in my bushes after drinking all night, and you want to talk to me about social responsibility? I saw you throw up in a recycle bin last year.”

  He sits up and leans his head on the armrest. “So why can’t you go drinking with me tonight?”

  I pat my lap and whistle for Mr. T. He just looks at me. “I got a job. It’s just for one night. I have to go to a party and be interesting.”

  He sits up more. “What does that even mean? What kind of job is this?”

  “I think it’s like when celebrities hire models for their parties to make them look cooler. One of the models got sick. So I’m the backup.” I need to go shower and shave soon. It sounded serious if I’m not ready when the driver gets here.

  “Bro, I hate to break it to you, but those gorgeous chicks aren’t models; they’re hookers. Are you gonna be in the back of a rap video, or something?”

  He’s such an idiot. “And I hate to break it to you, but I’m not a gorgeous chick. I’m supposed to go and be charming to the guests. It’s probably going to be a bunch of bored wives of rich guys trying to build a golf course together. I just have to keep the conversation flowing.”

  He flips between the ESPN channels when a commercial comes on. “And how much does being charming pay?”

 

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