My Give a Damn's Busted

by Carolyn Brown

  “I’m glad to meet you, Whit, but I’m not from Dallas. I live in Mingus, up in Palo Pinto County and own and operate a beer joint called the Honky Tonk,” she said.

  When he got a hold of his jaw and brought it back up to clamp tightly shut, he turned heel and left her standing there surrounded by a dozen other people.

  “But I thought someone said you were Doreen Lawson’s daughter?” A thirty-something lady joined them. She had blond hair, a long face with a nose that was slightly too big, and dark eyes. She was taller than Larissa and heavier but wore her black sheath dress with a draping neckline very well.

  Larissa reached out and took a flute of white wine from a waiter’s tray. “I am that.”

  “You don’t look a thing like her. Are you her daughter or the child of that Italian fellow she’s with tonight?”

  “No, Rupert isn’t my father but Doreen Lawson is definitely my mother.”

  The woman looped her arm through Larissa’s and led her away from the painting. “Hideous, isn’t it? My name is Julia. I put the first bid on it so Aunt Martha wouldn’t disown me but thank God I was outbid quickly. I’d rather hang a velvet Elvis in my living room as that thing. Come sit with me and we’ll scope out the good looking Texans. If it don’t wear a Western cut tux, I don’t even give it a second glance. And cowboy boots are a plus.”

  “You should make a trip to Mingus if you like cowboys. First drink at the Honky Tonk is free for getting me away from that thing. It’s like a gory movie. You don’t want to look at all that carnage but you can’t blink,” Larissa said.

  Julia giggled. “You got it, honey. I’ve heard of the Honky Tonk. I’ve got some friends who’ve been up there. They say it’s vintage. Maybe I’ll collect that beer sometime. I could have kissed you when you told Whit that you owned a beer joint. The look on his face was priceless.”

  Larissa sat down on a newly vacated sofa. “You don’t like him?”

  Julia sat beside her. “Oh, I’ll probably end up married to the man. Mother wants me to marry him and his dad thinks it’s a wonderful idea. But I’d have to train him and I don’t know if I’ve got the patience. I’d much rather have Hayes Radner. Have you heard of him?”

  Larissa inhaled. “Couple of times.”

  “Now there’s a man a woman wouldn’t have to train. He’s like a brand new house. Turn the key and start living.” Julia fanned her face with her hand. “And turn on the air conditioner because it will be some damn hot living.”

  Larissa raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

  Julia went on. “Good looking. Dresses just right. Rich. And honey, if I ever get him into bed I just know he’ll make my little old toenails curl up and sing.”

  “What will they sing?” Larissa asked.

  “That song that they always sing when the bride is walking down the aisle.” Julia laughed again.

  “Well, good luck.”

  Whit picked two glasses of wine from the waiter’s tray and carefully carried them to the sofa where Julia and Larissa sat. “Julia, darlin’, I noticed you didn’t have a drink and I brought you one. Did you make a bid on the painting? It’s really not fair if you get it because Martha can paint you something anytime. She’s your aunt, after all.”

  Julia took the wine and sipped it. “You outbid me, you rascal. I suppose you’ll donate it to the new art department if you win the bid?”

  “I hadn’t planned on it but that is a lovely idea,” he said. “There’s my mother and father, at last. I’ll be back in a minute. I’ve got to tell them I’ve already entered a bid so they won’t bid against me.”

  “Why’d you do that?” Larissa asked.

  “If I do marry him, I damn sure don’t want that thing staring at me every day. It was self preservation,” Julia whispered behind her hand.

  A tall dark-haired man stopped in front of them and touched Julia’s shoulder. “Hi, darlin’. I thought you might be here.”

  Larissa looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. His hair was so black it was blue when the lights from the chandelier hit it and his jaw square. Exactly the kind of man who’d appealed to her in the pre-Hank Wells’ days.

  “And who is your gorgeous friend?”

  “This is Doreen’s daughter, Ruth.”

  Larissa extended her hand. “I prefer Larissa. It’s my first name and the one I use these days.”

  He brought her finger tips to his lips and brushed a kiss across them without blinking, his full attention riveted on her face. “Then Larissa it is. I’m Tyler Green.”

  She withdrew her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Tyler.”

  That warm, oozy feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t there. He was pretty. He was a true knight-in-shining-western-cut suit and high-dollar boots, but he did nothing to excite Larissa. She was reminded of Jo Dee Messina’s song, “My Give a Damn’s Busted.” Had Hank broke her give-a-damn so badly it couldn’t be repaired? Was there no man on the face of the great green earth who could make her melt into a puddle at his feet?

  “I’m going for food. Want to join me?” Tyler asked.

  Larissa shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m not a bit hungry and Julia and I still have some catching up to do.”

  “Then maybe later,” Tyler said.

  “He’s a player,” Julia said when he was out of hearing distance.

  Larissa smiled. “Well, I don’t reckon he’s going to play me, not tonight. How about you?”

  Julia winked. “Honey, I’d let him play me like a piano. He’s my second choice, behind Hayes Radner. I betcha I could keep him tied up in the bedroom so well that he wouldn’t even look at another woman if he’d give me a chance.”

  “Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Martha said loud and clear into a cordless microphone.

  The room went silent and everyone got ready for her fundraising speech.

  “Instead of begging you for money we’re going to have an auction. Don’t get your hopes up. I’m only giving away one of my paintings tonight,” she said.

  Julia whispered, “Thank God.”

  “We’re going to have a slave auction. Men on this side of the room. Women on that side.” She pointed and couples began to separate.

  Larissa and Julia sat still while the other women gathered around them.

  “We are going to auction off the men to the highest bidder. Let’s see how much you girls want the man who brought you. We’ll start with Doreen Lawson’s date, Rupert. Doreen, you got your checkbook ready?”

  Doreen waved it in the air.

  “Okay, here’s a fine specimen of an Italian and you all know what they say about Italian men.” Martha wiggled both eyebrows. “Who’s going to start the bidding at a thousand dollars?”

  Doreen raised her checkbook.

  “Two thousand,” Julia shouted.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Raising money for Aunt Martha’s charity. It’s all tax deductible. How much did your mother plan on donating tonight?”

  “I have no idea,” Larissa said.

  “Three?” Martha asked.

  Doreen nodded.

  “Four,” a voice from the back said.

  “Ten,” Doreen said.

  “Well, it looks like Doreen either knows something we don’t or else she’s planning on finding out,” Martha said. “Do I hear eleven?”

  Larissa looked at Julia.

  Julia shook her head. “That’s all I’m donating and I’m really going to buy Tyler.”

  “Then ten it is. Doreen, you get to take him home. I’ll expect a full report tomorrow morning at our brunch,” Martha laughed.

  “Next we have one of our own country boys. Tyler Green. Step up here and let the ladies see what you’ve got,” Martha said.

  Tyler took center stage beside Martha right under the chandelier. He removed his coat and tie to a few bump and grind movements, turned around to show everyone his backside, and shot a grin toward Larissa over his shoulder.

  “Do I hear a thousand?” Marth
a said.

  “Yes,” a tall brunette said from behind the sofa.

  “Two?”

  Another woman held up a hand.

  “Three?”

  The brunette nodded.

  “Four?”

  A third woman got in on the bidding.

  “Five. Remember it comes off your taxes and goes for a good cause,” Martha said.

  The first woman nodded.

  “Six?”

  A few seconds passed.

  “Now’s your chance,” Larissa told Julia.

  Woman number two giggled and raised a hand.

  “Seven. Remember whoever buys him gets to keep him until ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Do I hear seven or does Susanne take him home?”

  “Seven,” the brunette said.

  “Eleven thousand, three hundred and four dollars,” Julia said. “That’s all there is in my checkbook but I suppose he’s worth it.”

  “Darlin’, that’s just all there is in your checkbook until you call the bank tomorrow morning. Do I hear eleven thousand, three hundred and five dollars?” Martha asked.

  All three of the women shook their heads.

  Tyler slung his coat over his shoulder. The crowd parted for him to stroll back to Julia and kneel before her. “I am your slave, darlin’. Shall we stay at this party, my lady, or do you have other plans?”

  “We’ll stay for a while. Sit right here and hold my hand,” she said.

  Larissa moved down and he squeezed in between them. “Are you sure that’s all you want me to hold?”

  “For now. We’ll talk about anything else later when all these women around me stop drooling,” she laughed.

  Susanne faked a swoon. “Hot damn! I knew I should’ve outbid her.”

  That brought a few chuckles. Martha went on. “Now our own Whit is up for sale. He’s got good taste in art and I hear he’s a lady’s man when the lights go out.”

  Whit blushed and went to stand beside her. “Tyler is a hard act to follow but remember not every book can be judged by the cover.”

  “One thousand?” Martha said.

  “How long do we own these slaves?” Susanne asked.

  “The length of this party. He can’t flirt with another woman until my fundraiser is over, which is the stroke of midnight. After that if you haven’t lassoed him, he’s free to go home without you,” Martha said.

  The bidding started and ended at eight thousand five hundred with Susanne owning Whit.

  He followed Tyler’s example and told Susanne that he was her humble slave for the next several hours. Did she want a glass of wine or a chocolate covered strawberry?

  She sent him to the bar for a Grey Goose martini and a plate of food.

  “Ahh, our next slave is just arriving. Better late than never, I suppose,” Martha said. “Come on up here. Don’t be shy. We’ve already gotten ten thousand for the Italian, eleven and some change for the sexy Tyler, and more than eight for our witty Whit. I expect you’ll bring a dollar ninety-eight at least,” she teased.

  “Well, damn,” Julia swore.

  “What?” Larissa asked.

  “I’ve spent my money and now I wish I’d waited.”

  “Why?”

  “Hayes Radner just walked in. That’s who Martha is putting up on the slave block now.”

  “Okay, girls, who’ll give me a thousand dollar bid for Hayes?” Martha asked.

  Susanne moaned. “Damn it, Martha. I didn’t think he was coming tonight.”

  “Two thousand,” the brunette said.

  “Three,” a blonde yelled.

  “Someone want to raise it to four?”

  “Five,” the brunette said.

  “Six,” the blonde yelled.

  “Well, now, we’ve got a serious bidding war, Hayes. Looks like either Molly or Emma is going to own your for the evening. You got a choice?”

  “No, I don’t. What’s the rules and when does the evening end?” Hayes asked.

  “Rules are that the evening ends at the stroke of midnight. You can’t flirt with another woman until after that. When the party is over, it’s up to the two of you if it goes on or stops,” Martha said.

  “Ten thousand,” Larissa said.

  Good God Almighty, why did I do that? I didn’t even intend to donate to the fund tonight. I figured Mother would take care of it.

  “Looks like a third party has entered the race so don’t be choosing between Molly and Emma,” Martha said.

  “Eleven,” Molly yelled.

  “Eleven thousand, six hundred and I’m not bidding a dollar higher. That’s all I brought and if I use it all, I don’t get that new pair of shoes I want,” Emma said.

  “Twelve,” Larissa said. She was in the race and she was going to own Hayes Radner. It was small compensation for him trying to own her Honky Tonk, but it would be sweet revenge. To own him for three whole hours and he couldn’t flirt with a single woman in the ball room. She would make a lot of art students very happy and hopefully Hayes Radner just as unhappy.

  “Twelve five,” Molly said.

  “It’s for the arts and tax deductible,” Julia whispered.

  “Fifteen,” Larissa said.

  “You can have him, honey. Ain’t no man worth more than that for one evening,” Emma laughed.

  “Do I have anything higher than fifteen for Hayes Radner?” Martha asked. “Okay, going, going… gone! Will the voice in the middle of the women’s side come forward and claim your slave. We can’t see who’s been bidding or I’d send him over to you on his hands and knees for that kind of donation.”

  Larissa stood up and the crowd parted.

  Hayes couldn’t believe his eyes when she started toward him. His mouth went as dry as if he’d been sucking on an alum lollipop. He blinked several times. Was it really Larissa? Or maybe just someone who looked enough like her to be her twin? He’d know if he could touch even her little finger. Sparks only danced when he touched Larissa.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like our high bidder was Ruth Lawson. She might not look like her mother but she sure knows a hunk of good lookin’ man when she sees it. Thank you, Ruth, for your donation and make him work for every dime of the money,” Martha said.

  “Oh, I plan on it,” Larissa said. “Hello, Hayes.”

  “Hello, Ruth Lawson,” he said curtly. So that was the reason he couldn’t find out jack shit about the woman. She was a different person in Mingus, just like he was in Palo Pinto. Ruth Lawson? Where in the hell had he heard that name?

  From my mother! She’s been trying to fix me up with Doreen’s daughter, Ruth, for at least five years. Well, get ready to drop in your first dead faint, Mother! Because Ruth Lawson is the tart, your words not mine, who called you a bitch.

  “I believe I own you for this evening.” She reached up and untied his bow tie and led him toward the door with it. The vibes between them hummed fairly well proving that Ruth and Hayes could produce as many sparks as Hank and Larissa.

  The crowd clapped and whistled as she led him out into the flower gardens in the backyard. She heard Doreen tell Rupert that Hayes was the son of her friend that she’d been trying to get Larissa to meet for years.

  “It must be fate,” Doreen said.

  If you only knew how much fate, you wouldn’t believe it, Larissa thought.

  The next man went on the block and the crowd’s attention turned toward him. Larissa dropped the tie and sat down on a white cast iron bench. The rain had stopped and stars glittered around a big round moon hanging in the dark sky. The aroma of roses mixed with fresh rain and wet grass surrounded her. Water droplets hung on rose buds, and full blown roses were heavy with the moisture.

  “That bench is wet,” Hayes said.

  “So my dress will get wet and I’ll have the perfect excuse to go back to my hotel,” she said.

  Hayes sat down. “Sounds like a winning plan to me. So you are Ruth Lawson. The Ruth Lawson. That is so damn funny,” he said.

  “Why? And how many a
re there in the world that you would say the Ruth Lawson?”

  “Because my mother has been trying to fix me up with you for years.”

  “You got to be shittin’ me!” Larissa exclaimed.

  “Doreen Lawson is my mother’s friend. They’ve traveled the same circles for years, along with Martha.”

  “So tell me are you Hank or Hayes?” she asked.

  “Are you Ruth or Larissa? And where did the Morley come from?”

  “I’m Larissa. Mother told me my biological father’s name was Morley. She didn’t tell me that it was a nickname and that his real name is Larry Morleo. I’m still angry at you so don’t try to change the subject.”

  “I’m angry with you too, so that makes us even.”

  “What have you got to be angry about?” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

  “Same thing you do. You are Ruth Lawson and you didn’t tell me. So I’m Hayes Radner and I didn’t tell you. What’s the difference?”

  She shook her head emphatically and poked him in the arm with her forefinger. “That does not make us even. I wasn’t trying to find out about you so I could undermine you and buy your business. My name might have been different but I’m still the same person. You are Hayes Radner now, not Hank Wells.”

  “You were trying to find out about me?” He removed her finger and held on to her hand, the warmth shooting desire through his body like an IV of pure vodka.

  “Sure. I don’t let any man get under my skin without finding out who he is. There’s too much at stake.”

  “Your Honky Tonk?” He frowned.

  “No, the Ruth Lawson stuff, which isn’t nearly as important as my Honky Tonk. Too many men have hit on me with dollar signs in their eyes instead of love. I always investigate someone I’m interested in. You investigated me so don’t be acting all innocent.” She pulled her hand away. Another minute and she’d be pushing him backwards off the bench into the wet grass and having sex with him under the rose bushes. Thorns in her hind end didn’t even sound like a bad trade for a romp in the cool wet grass with Hank.