Manbuns & Martinis (Drinking #1.5)

by R. L. Griffin

  “Could be interesting…” he starts.

  “You think they want to read the book about the twice divorced forty year old billionaire of a company with a beer belly because he works constantly and doesn’t have time to work out. You think they want to read about him only dating twenty year olds with rock hard bodies because they are willing to date someone they find disgusting because of the money?”

  “Well, now you’re just being depressing.”

  “That’s what I’m saying, women want the fantasy because sometimes the reality of shit is depressing. They run around cleaning, working, mothering, wifing and there is no one who looks out for their well-being, in life or the bedroom.”

  His eyes narrow at me. “How do you know all that? You really do have a vagina.”

  I throw a pillow at him. “My sister complains to me on the daily,” I answer. My sister, Alexia, has been the most important person in my life since I was six. That’s when our mom left us. What sort of mom leaves her kids? I’ve been asking that for decades and I still can’t answer that question. I have turned that scenario around in my head for ages and have yet to come up with a scenario where it’s okay. Needless to say, my mother never looked back. My dad worked in a factory for a while and then took a manufacturing job at an aerospace company in Odessa when I was in middle school. That’s when I met Duncan and Mad.

  “How is Lexie?”

  “She’s tired. I think once you have kids you stay exhausted or at least that’s the case when you marry a dick that does nothing.”

  “Well, she has three kids, that seems like it’d make anyone tired.”

  “Three kids, works as a teacher and just turned thirty-

  three.”

  “What did you get her for her birthday?”

  “Five hundred dollar gift card to the spa she likes with an offer to babysit.”

  “Damn son,” Duncan whistles.

  “Well, her presents are for being my mom and my sister, all wrapped up in one.” I remember when she heard about Harry Potter, she’d rode her bike to the library and checked it out. She read to me every night the summer after my sixth birthday. Every time the books would come out after that we’d read them together even when she was in high school, it’s one of my favorite memories of growing up.

  “That’s true, my mom would die from shock if I dropped that much cheddar on her.”

  “Maybe you should one day. Once we open the gym maybe we’ll have money.”

  Duncan hops back onto the bed landing on his back. “That’s the fucking dream my friend, that’s the fucking dream.” He closes his eyes.

  I look at my phone, we have a few hours until dinner. I text Mad.

  I’m sorry.

  Then I turn my phone off and get into the other bed hoping to sleep until it’s time to leave for the dinner that someone else is paying for.

  I wake up to the sound of the shower. Yawning, I reach to where my phone is charging on the bed, turn it on and check the time. I sit up quickly, we only have about thirty minutes until we have to meet Amelia and Danny downstairs. I blink as I realize I have a few messages. I check Mad’s first.

  what for?

  Before I rethink what I’m doing I text her back.

  everything

  Then I walk over to my bag and pull out another tank top, because really it’s what these women want to see right? I laugh as I pull it on.

  I shove another cookie in my mouth and wait to piss.

  Duncan comes out of the bathroom, the towel wrapped around his waist. His waist is really small. Duncan has one of those traditional lifter bodies, his shoulders are super broad with a tiny waist. My body is more stocky. I’m sort of bulgy everywhere, even in my pants. Oh come on, you saw that coming...

  “I flexed and my sleeves fell off,” he reads my shirt as I go into the bathroom. “That’s awesome.”

  “Sunshine sent it to me,” I call while I’m unzipping my pants.

  “Of course she did.”

  I know he’s jealous of Megan. When we were in Vegas he was stuck with Lo who didn’t want to have sex with him and then they ended up just hanging out, which was a waste for him. I shake it a bit and tuck it back into my pants while I examine my hair. I’m not sure about it, but Amelia said that she knew a few authors looking for the manbun pictures for covers.

  “What can I say, I hit the one night stand lottery,” I say washing my hands.

  “I kept thinking Lo would give it up, that first night we were so drunk we just passed out. Isn’t that the worst? I now have a rule that I don’t drink that much so that I miss a hookup.”

  “We can’t always close the deal,” I jab.

  “Fuck you. I could’ve closed the deal with a ton of other women, I just kept thinking it’d happen with her, she’s hot as fuck.”

  “I liked her.” I look around to see if there are any other cookies left, there isn’t. Those fucking cookies are amazing.

  “She was fine, but shit. I was in Vegas with all those women ready and willing. I chose wrong. I hate it when I do that.”

  “Me too,” I add. I did luck out with Megan. Sometimes people are just put in our lives for a reason and she’s one of those people. Now, she’s turned into a great friend. You don’t believe that? You’re of the opinion two people who have had crazy, hot sex can’t be friends. We will prove you wrong. You just need a little respect and understanding from your respective significant others…I think it helps that we live thousands of miles away from each other.

  I sink down on the couch and slip my feet into my round-toed boots. I know my choice of shoes may seem weird because it’s May, but I don’t have a ton of options and boots are a staple in Texas. They are worn out, broken in and perfect. It takes years to get boots that feel this good. It’s almost like they know where you’re going before you do. They feel like home. It’s really dumb how something as materialistic as shoes can make you feel all that, but I have heard from women that shoes do that for them too. These boots tell people who I am, a country boy that works his ass off. If you look close enough at people, their shoes, their smile, their chipped nails, everything gives you a little insight into their lives. What? I’m deep.

  I turn on the television while I’m waiting for Duncan to get dressed. This is going to sound completely asinine, but I don’t watch the news really. When I do get a chance to watch TV it’s sports. I work from six in the morning until about eight at night and that in and of itself is depressing. I simply don’t want to hear about the horrible things that happen in the world. The Nashville news is on when the TV comes to life. I sit back with my arms across the back of the couch, my ankle on my knee.

  “Well, it was announced today that Megan Walker, known as the Lottery Lolita, has plans to marry an owner of a vineyard in Napa, California. If you followed her track across country last year, she ended her trip in Napa and apparently fell in love immediately. She’s still battling the lawsuit that her former lover filed against her. But, it looks like she’s taking it in stride. Her company Wunderlust is doing great things and I don’t think…”

  The words fade out as I see my friend’s picture on the television and hear things about her I never knew. I did know that prick Cory sued her, but...

  “What the fuck?” Duncan says what I’m thinking, the towel frozen while he was rubbing his hair.

  “I…” I start, but words escape me. We stare at each other not believing what we just heard.

  “You did hit the one night stand lottery,” Duncan laughs. “Life is fucking nuts, isn’t it?”

  I nod. I feel weirdly betrayed in a way. Why wouldn’t she have told me? I had no idea. I feel stupid. We’re supposed to be friends. You think you know someone and then you find out an entirely new set of facts that changes things to such a degree that you don’t know where it leaves you.

  I click on Instagram to distract myself and see Mad in a group selfie with three girls and three guys at an outdoor concert and my heart seizes. Fuck. I can’t see this. I
wonder which one is Garret so I can beat his ass later.

  I use the app on my phone to post pictures of myself so I can promote my body and increase my over twenty thousand followers. I walk over to Duncan who now has shorts on, take my shirt off and take a selfie of us. I caption it, “No need for shirts tonight. #NNBS2015.” Then I tag him.

  “So tonight?” he asks.

  “Don’t bring anyone back to the room, that’s our only rule.”

  “Got it.” He pulls a tight blue shirt over his board shorts and runs a hand through his hair. He hits me on the back as we walk out the door. “If I won the lottery, you’d be the first person I’d tell.”

  We step out of the elevator and see Amelia right away. I walk up and shake Danny’s hand first, then give Amelia a hug. “You guys remember Duncan right?”

  “Yep,” Danny answers. I think this is his proverbial showing of the dick, he makes sure we know that he can answer for Amelia, he’s always around when there are a ton of models. I think it’s because she’s hot, but not because he doesn’t trust her. “Good to see you again,” he says and shakes Duncan’s hand.

  “Ready to eat?” Amelia asks.

  “Of course,” I answer rubbing my belly. “I’m glad the shoot is over. I’m going to eat myself into a coma.”

  “I think we got some good pictures today,” Danny says.

  “I hope so,” I comment. “Hey, do you mind if I post a few teaser shots that you aren’t going to use?”

  “Just let me see them before you do,” she answers.

  We walk out of the hotel and down the block toward Broadway. It’s not too hot and there’s music that carries on the breeze.

  “So Duncan, you’re on the cover of J. Keeson’s book that’s being turned into a movie. Are they considering you for the role?” Amelia asks as we turn the corner and walk the last block to the restaurant.

  Duncan’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t even know,” he whispers, as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and falls behind us as we walk.

  “Sorry,” Amelia says as Danny reaches the door and holds it for her.

  “It’s cool. He’s probably calling Charlie. She doesn’t really handle that sort of thing for us, but you’d think she would have told him.”

  Amelia’s bedazzled skull tank top and leather pants look perfect with what her husband is wearing, like they coordinated it. Hell, maybe they did. Maybe that’s what people do when they get married. I picture Mad in my plaid shirt with nothing else on. Then I get pissed at myself for thinking about her.

  We get seated and I text Duncan to get his ass in here. Amelia and Danny are talking so I quickly text Lexie.

  Love you.

  She responds back immediately.

  Not as much as I love you.

  It does something to me to make me remember she loves me, she’s been there for me even when I feel like shit is falling apart. Megan lied to me, Mad left me, but I’ll always have Lexie. She has to love me, she’s family.

  “Ellis?”

  I look up and didn’t realize the waitress is staring at me. “Oh, sorry. Get me and Duncan vodka martinis.” The waitress smiles at me then turns and leaves.

  “You’re twenty-three?” Danny asks.

  “Yep.” I take a sip of water.

  “Why in the hell are you drinking a martini?”

  “No carbs,” I answer.

  “Hmmph.” I can’t tell why the answer bothers him, but it’s reality. Alcohol is bad for your body, but vodka is the lesser of some of the evils.

  “I love beer,” Amelia randomly states.

  “Well, you don’t make a living with showing your abs.”

  “That’s true.”

  The server appears again with our drinks and I look toward the door for Duncan. She places all the drinks down. “Do you want to wait to order?”

  Danny nods.

  “I’ll go see what’s taking Duncan so long.” I slide out of the booth and make my way outside, I see Duncan at least a block down pacing, his phone to his ear and his hands gesturing wildly. I walk down and motion for him to wrap it up.

  He holds up a finger telling me to hold on, his fair skin blotchy with emotion.

  “But I don’t get it, why would they want him and not me. I’m on the fucking cover.”

  He walks away from me.

  “This is fucked.”

  Toward me.

  “I feel like you must have promoted him on this Charlie.”

  Away from me.

  “We’re done,” he spits and then terminates the call.

  “What’s up?”

  “Fucking Doomas.”

  “What about him?” This is another model that Charlie represents.

  “He got the fucking movie deal. I’m on the fucking cover and he gets to act in it.”

  “Whoa,” I say as we walk toward the restaurant. “Shit man, I’m sorry. What did Charlie say?”

  “Fuck her.” He rips open the door and walks through like he’s on the WWE.

  “Wait did you just fire her?”

  He stops walking before we get to Amelia and Danny. “She fucked me over on this deal. She’s an asshole. I can do this myself. I don’t need her.”

  “Okay.” I hold my hands up in surrender.

  “I’m going to finally eat whatever the fuck I want, then I’m going to drink until I find someone to sleep with.” He turns and slides into the booth facing Danny and Amelia.

  “You okay?” Danny asks.

  I shake my head and act like I’m cutting my own throat.

  “I will be,” Duncan says smiling. Then he drains his martini and mine.

  He could be an actor. His face doesn’t betray him.

  The server shows up. “Hey, listen we need two more martinis,” I start. “You know what, you should probably go ahead and bring four.”

  “Okay,” she confirms as she looks between Duncan and me.

  “Someone else got the role?” Amelia looks at me.

  I nod.

  “I mean what the fuck,” Duncan fumes.

  “What did Charlie say?” Danny asks.

  “That she sold me out for another one of her models. That’s what she fucking said.”

  Drinks are placed in front of us and I grab mine quickly so that I can make sure Duncan doesn’t drink it too.

  “I’m so sorry.” Amelia looks at me.

  “Nothing you can do about it now dude.” I shrug.

  “What can I get you guys to eat?” The server interrupts. It takes Duncan and me a long time to order all the food we want.

  My stomach grumbles.

  “You guys want another round of drinks?”

  “Yes,” Amelia answers for all of us.

  The after-party in the hotel is fun. It could be that I’m wasted, but whatever. There’s a DJ and people are dancing. I love dancing. My sister and I used to have dance parties anytime one of us would get sad about our life. Our dad was a hard person to understand, he was left with two kids he had to take care of when he was really just good at working. I’m drunk as shit. Oh, I already said that? Sorry, but I mean I’m like stupid wasted and Duncan is worse than me. This is not really what we should be doing, nor is it how we usually behave, but we’ve both had a shit week. If you’re not going to drink when you lose your girl or don’t get the job you want, when are you going to drink? Right?

  Amelia and Danny left a few hours ago, for this I’m glad. Shit’s about to get ugly. I spilled whiskey on my shirt and there’s a huge wet spot across the words. I’m posing for pictures with women and they’re handsy. I had a lady grab my crotch, thank God I’m so drunk or I might’ve gotten an erection...wait, I’m drunk I don’t know what I’m talking about. Duncan’s line for pictures is longer than mine, so I take my shirt off. Everything’s a competition with me, you didn’t know that? Yes, you do. After I’ve made my way through the line of people, I excuse myself and run to the bathroom. A woman follows me, but I don’t realize it until I push the door open for the bathroom and she
’s standing there in the bathroom with me.

  “Hey,” she says in what could be considered a flirty way. Because really some things could be considered flirty by some, but creepy by others right? This woman could be my mom. I mean I’m not trying to be rude, but you’re sixty. I slip my tank top over my head.

  “Hey,” I comment, “the women’s restroom is the next door.”

  “I know where I am.” She grins at me and she has lipstick on her teeth. I stand there like a deer in headlights.

  “Ellis have you ever been tied up before?”

  I’m going to die. I might piss myself. I chuckle. “I sure have, by my girlfriend.” I’m trying to diffuse the really awkward situation here.

  “I bet she didn’t use her own panties.”

  I’m dying on the inside. What does that even mean? Does she have multiple pairs of panties on so that she can use them to tie me up? Are her panties that big that she could tie me up with one pair? Would she just pull clean underwear out of her purse? You remember I’m super drunk, right?

  I should be an actor. I don’t laugh. I just smile at her awkwardly. “Well, no she didn’t,” I answer.

  Don’t make me tell you what else I’m thinking about this lady’s panties. The door pushes open and another model is standing there, I can finally breathe.

  “Hey, man,” he says and walks to the urinal and then just looks over at the lady like ‘you can go now.’

  “Later Ellis,” she says and walks out of the bathroom.

  “Dude, you just saved my life.”

  Brody laughs. “She did that to me in Vegas.”

  I stare at him. “You didn’t?”

  “You’re sick dude,” he answers as he pisses. He washes his hands and walks out with me still standing in front of the urinal. It’s like my dick is scared to do anything. He doesn’t want to pee, he definitely won’t be getting hard anytime soon. “Be careful,” he calls as the door shuts behind him. I tuck gigantor into my pants and zip up. That lady literally scared the piss out of me, it was there and then it disappeared. You didn’t miss that I drunk called my penis gigantor. I mean, I’m a good size.