Boycotts and Barflies (3 page)

found it.

“What’s the bet, Jack?” Michael asked, his interest now piqued by the  possibility of a little friendly competition.

“Well, don’t they say sex ruins a relationship? And we are looking for quality  girlfriends, right? So, we each put a couple of nights’ worth of tips in a pot, and  the last guy to have sex wins the money. That helps make sure none of us cheat  or go have some meaningless quickie with a barfly. Sound reasonable?” Jack  offered.

“Sure, let’s do it,” Ryan and Michael agreed. They both knew that this probably  wouldn’t be easy, and that they were all going to have to be out of their  element by looking for nice, intelligent girls, but they were all ready to give it  their very best effort.

Michael, for one, loved a good challenge, and this was sure to be just that. Smart girls were … well, smart. He just hoped they weren’t smarter than he  was. Besides, who knew what they may find if they actually looked for love in  all the right places.

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Chapter 2

I t was still early when Grace woke up to the strange sensation of her bed vibrating underneath her as the sun streamed brightly through the window.

“Are we having an earthquake?” she mumbled into her pillow, refusing to open her eyes.

“Nooo,” a giddy voice sang from the edge of the bed.

“Well, then, unless you’re Brad Pitt and you’re trying to wake me up to make sweet love to me, go away!” Grace threw the covers tightly over her head, and with her arms, she braced for the wrestling match that was certain to ensue.

Meg, however, was never one to play fair. Instead of fighting to free Grace’s head to get her out of bed, she pulled up the bottom part of the comforter and attacked Grace’s ticklish feet.

“Wake up! Come on, Grace, get up! We have things to do today.”

Grace groaned and sat up in bed. “What do we have to do today? It’s Saturday.

Saturdays were made for sleeping in. Why am I up at …” she glanced at her clock, “oh my God, eight-thirty in the morning? Are you insane?”

Before she could throw the blanket back over her head, Meg scooped it up and ran into the family room. Grace streaked after her in a T -shirt and underwear and tackled Meg somewhere near the coffee table.

“Ha! I win. Give it back, Meg. I’ll see you in a few hours,” Grace teased as she triumphantly dragged the blanket back into her room and locked the door.

“Drop the blanket,” a menacing voice said in Grace’s ear.

“Argh!” she screamed as she jumped into the air, flapping her arms to fend off

the possible attacker.

Laughter filled the room as she opened her eyes to see Bianca flop across the

bed in hysterics. Her bright red hair was splayed across the sheets. “Grace …

that was priceless … your face …” she said in between gasps for air.

“My loving roommates, ladies and gentlemen. One tries to freeze me to death

by stealing my blanket, and the other tries to give me a heart attack, all before

nine a.m.!” Grace sat down on her bed with an angry huff.

Meg tapped on the door. “Can I come in now please, Grace? It’s not  fair.

Bianca is in there.” She whined like child, hoping to wear her friend down.

Grace rolled her eyes at Bianca then strolled over to the door, propping it open

a crack. “What’s the plan for today, before I allow you to enter?”

“Just a little shopping, silly, now move.” Meg shoved open the door with her

shoulder and leaped inside to join Bianca on the bed.

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Shopping with Bianca and Meg was an experience not to be taken lightly.

If they hadn’t majored in Interior Design, their second choice for an occupation  would have been fashion. They were up on all the latest trends and looks  coming off of the runways. They gave the phrase “fashion forward” a whole  new meaning.

However, Grace preferred to dress for comfort, a concept that was completely  lost on those two. If she was being totally honest with herself, she dressed for  invisibility. Attention was the one thing Grace could do without. Bianca and  Meg, on the other hand, dressed to be noticed the second they entered a room. Their clothing choices illustrated  the differences between the three women  perfectly. Bianca and Meg were self-confident and self-assured women who  turned heads in a crowd. They wore whatever they wanted and got away with  it. Bianca, with her curvy shape, long legs, ice blue eyes, and long  mane of red  hair that men longed to run their fingers through, commanded every room she  entered.

She made sure her clothing highlighted her assets as much as possible, and every outfit was topped off with a gorgeous pair of stilettos that made her even taller.

Meg was average height, but with blue eyes and dark hair, her classic beauty allowed her to pull off clothes like no one else. She was artsy and creative not only with her clothes but also with accessories, each an expression of her mood  14

of the day. You never exactly knew what to expect with her. She could go into  her room to get ready for a date and come out wearing a blue wig just because  she felt like it. Once you met Meg, you never forgot her exuberance and energy. Her clothes reflected her playful side, her sense of whimsy, and her flair for the  romantic.

Compared to Bianca and Meg, Grace felt absolutely average. Her long black hair  had a few dull red highlights, but other than that it looked like everyone else’s  she passed on the street. There was a hint of a wave to it, making it messy and  utterly untamable in her mind. She wasn’t rail thin, either; she had hips and  breasts, both of which she felt were too big, so she tried to hide them as  whenever possible. Grace believed that guys would never look at her the same  way they looked at Meg and Bianca. She lacked the grace, the confidence, and  the daring. The men that Meg and Bianca attracted were the good-looking  model types. Grace believed her “type” was more along the lines of the  accountants and computer geeks of the world. Her clothes sealed the deal— they were always conservative and modest, making her look as average as she  felt.

“Fine, I’ll go shopping, but I get two vetoes this time instead of the usual one,  got it?” Grace insisted, her conditions set in stone.

Her friends grudgingly agreed to her terms . They knew Grace could be  extremely stubborn. If they went too overboard with their clothing suggestions  for her, Grace could call into effect her veto and replace one item of their liking  with one item of her own. If they played their cards right, they c ould usually

get Grace into a more flattering outfit. Pushing her too far, though, usually  resulted in her getting something dreary she could hide her cute shape under. “Go shower and we’ll head out.” Meg ran out of the room to prepare for their  day of shopping.

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“What in the world do you have against fabrics with Lycra in them, Grace?”

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Meg shouted in the middle of the store as she waved a stretchy blue shirt in her friend’s face. They had been at the mall for hours, trying on too many outfits to count. There were so many, in fact, that Grace’s head started to spin.

“That shirt clings to me, and I prefer things that flow.” Grace had already used both her vetoes of the day, so thankfully she wasn’t the proud owner of leather pants or a red sequined tube top. Now, she was on her own, and without a 15

veto, and it was up to her to persuade Meg to choose another shirt.  Unfortunately, Meg and Bianca weren’t easily swayed, especially when it came  to clothes.

“You wear everything a size too big so you can hide your body. This looks  amazing on you. It shows that you actually have some sexy curves there,  honey,”

Bianca said as she looked Grace up and down, smirking.

“You’re getting this and these jeans to go with it, no arguments. All your vetoes  have been used.” Meg victoriously danced over to the cashier and handed the  girl her credit card. “This outfit is on me. I guarantee that when you wear it, it’ll  be a night to remember!”

With the final item jammed into the bag and paid for, they headed to lunch. The  server brought over their drinks, and Grace had sucked down her whole glass  of iced tea before she even had time to realize how thirsty she was.

“So, Grace, Meg and I have something we’d like to talk to you about,”

Bianca said with a  bit of hesitation in her voice.

Grace looked suspiciously at both of her friends, waiting for one of them to begin.

“OK, here’s the thing. Since we have a few weeks left in our boycott until we’re allowed to date, we thought it might be a good time for you to … um … broaden your horizons when it comes to guys. We think you should use these weeks to, let’s say, loosen up a bit?” Bianca chose her words carefully, waiting to see if  Grace was going to haul off and hit her.

Instead, Grace gave her a rather confu sed look. “Huh?”

“Dear, sweet Grace,” Meg began, “men are like a buffet. There all sorts of different ‘flavors,’ if you will, for you to sample. Exotic, spicy, foreign, hearty, sweet. However, you tend to keep going to the comfort food section of the buffet.

How many times can you eat fried chicken before it makes you sick? Haven’t you ever just wanted to walk over and grab a handful of something different?”

Meg asked excitedly as she leaned across the table. Her hair framed her face as her blue eyes sparkled.

Grace took a deep breath then answered. “So, let me see if I understand you. Over the next few weeks, you want me to ‘grab’ a handful of some foreign guy? Wouldn’t that be against one of our rules or something?” she challenged as she sucked the last sip of tea from her glass, unable to look Meg or Bianca in the

face.

“Come on, Grace, we’re serious. You keep choosing these dorky, boring guys.

Cadavers have more personality than most of the men you go out with.

16

You could do so much better!” Bianca spoke with such sincerity, Grace almost believed her.

But then, she looked at Meg’s beautiful face, her winning smile, and Grace crashed back to reality. “Thanks, girls, I know you mean well, but you two can eat from any part of the ‘buffet’ and no one would question you being there. I’m just not in your league, never have been, never will be. Can we drop the topic please?” Grace tried to hold in the tears that she felt creeping into the corners of her eyes.

“How can you say that? You are a great catch—funny and beautiful, smarter than both of us combined, loving and kind … Any guy would be lucky to have you. All we’re suggesting is that you raise your standards a little. Try flirting with a few guys you might not normally flirt with. What’s the big deal? You can’t go on a date with them anyway, and if you get rejected, who cares? You know you’re going to go home with Bianca and me no matter what, so no harm done. Come on, Grace, we’ll help you. Right, Bianca?” Meg glanced over to the vibrant redhead for support.

Bianca nodded her head vigorously in agreement, her blue eyes wide with hope.

“Please, Grace, for me, will you just try?” Meg unleashed the full power of her pouty lip on Grace and, of course, she caved.

“Fine, I’ll try. My face may be permanently red after this little lesson, however, and I make no guarantees that I will be able to pull it off. Of course, if I’m going to go outside my comfort zone for the next few weeks, you two will be joining me. When I think of  a little ‘character expanding activity’ for each of you, you have to go with the flow, no complaints. Deal?” Grace raised an eyebrow, daring them to disagree.

“This boycott could be quite interesting for all of us,” Bianca whispered with a

playful smile.

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The next few weeks of the boycott were actually quite fun. Without having to  worry about getting dates for the weekend or dreading blind dates, the girls’ stress level went down considerably. Their weekends turned into one big  “Girl’s Night Out,” and they would literally open the phone book, close their  eyes, and point to pick a new club to try.

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Bianca and Meg were teaching Grace the finer points of flirting. Playful banter, hair flips, and the casual touch on the arm were fast becoming a part of Grace’s social repertoire. So far, she had flirted with a body builder who could lift four hundred pounds, who even Bianca had admitted later was intimidating.

There was the professional soccer player from Brazil—from the “international section” of the man buffet no doubt—and the guitar player with hair as long as  Grace’s. Needless to say, they’d had pleasant conversations, but none of them were exactly her cup of tea. Her friends, however, were proud of her willingness to try and  talk to these guys, and they gave her a standing ovation when the soccer player gave her his phone number before heading back to  Brazil.

On Wednesday, when Grace got home from class, she found Bianca on the couch with her nose pressed into the latest issue of Cosm o.

“Guess what? I thought of something new I want you to experience during our boycott. Are you up for it?” Grace asked, a huge grin plastered across her face. Bianca lowered the magazine and looked suspiciously over the top of the pages. “What is  it?” Her eyes narrowed as her brows pulled tightly together. “Football!” Grace beamed happily. “I got three tickets to a Seahawks game this weekend. Feel like a road trip?” Grace pleaded as she bounced excitedly on to the couch. Sports were not Bianca’s thing by any stretch of the imagination, but  Grace loved football, mainly because her dad was a huge fan, and his love of the game had rubbed off on her.

“Oh come on. Just think about it—big, muscular guys in tight pants. I know you can appreciate that. I’ll even bring binoculars for you, and there’s shopping there too.” She didn’t mention every item for sale had a Seahawk on it—Bianca didn’t need that much information.

“Fine, I’ll go. But if some stupid football fan spills beer or nachos on me, I’m so

gonna  smack the hell out of them.”

Grace threw her arms around Bianca and shouted toward Meg’s room. “Meg, she said yes! It looks like we’re going on a road trip this weekend!”

y

Another night at work, and yet another barfly was trying to hit on Michael as

he stood behind the bar.

“Are you sure I can’t make you change your mind? We could have a lot of fun

together,” she whispered as she reached out and touched his bangs, slowly 18

brushing them off his face. Her long blond hair cascaded over her freckled

shoulders as she leaned across the bar.

“Sorry, but I have a girlfriend, and she’s a real bitch. Oh look, here she comes.  Hi, honey.” Michael waved over at Vicki, one of the servers at the bar.

Vicki was a nice girl, but her twelve facial piercings and purple hair often  terrified people at first glance. She gave Michael a slightly confused wave back  until he casually nodded his head at the blond and she took the hint. Her eyes  lit up with understanding, she blew Michael a kiss and then glared at the barfly  beside him.

“That’s your girlfriend?” the barfly asked, completely stunned.

“Yep. I told you she’s a bitch. Last time someone hit on me, she broke the girl’s  nose,” Michael muttered under his breath dramatically.

“Oh, look at the time! Hey, I gotta run. My friends are waiting for me … Um, see  ya,” she said with one more quick glance in Vicki’s direction before she  sprinted out the door.

“Shoo, barfly, shoo.” Michael heard Jack laugh as he mockingly waved the  woman away with his hand.

Ryan just shook his head. “I thought you might cave there for a second,  Michael. She was really cute.”

“I’m not losing two hundred bucks that quickly! Give me some credit please.” He laughed as he wiped down the top of the bar. The lights had just come up;  last call was over. Finally, it was time to start closing down shop. Jack began  washing glasses while Ryan took inventory.

Vicki came over and smacked Michael in the back of the head. “What the hell

was that about? Can’t you just tell your admirers to go away all on your own? I’m gonna to start charging every time you make me blow you a kiss, Michael.  It’s so lame. Now if you want, I’d be happy to punch them or perhaps even spit  on them. That’s more my style.” Vicki laughed as she cracked her knuckles to  prove her point. She had the toughest exterior, but underneath it all, she was a

really loyal friend, which is the main reason why she and the guys got along so

well.

Michael gave her a big hug. “Thank you for saving me. You know you love being

my pretend girlfriend. Steve even gave us his blessing.” Steve was her very

large boyfriend. He was a six-foot- five biker covered in tattoos, and he looked

like he could eat Michael for breakfast. One night when he was at the bar, the

guys had told him of their bet. Steve had laughed for a few minutes, convinced

they’d all fail miserably, and then offered Vicki’s services as their “personal fly

swatter.”

19

Vicki poked Michael in the shoulder. “So,  have you guys found what you are looking for yet? How much longer do I have to do this? Last night I had to save those two, tonight it was you, Romeo. You guys better spend the next few days hunting for some nice girls. Don’t you have this weekend off? ” she asked, faking irritation.

“Yeah, we finally have a free weekend. If we’re lucky, we’ll have found some nice girls before Monday, and your fly swatting days will be over,” Michael said to her with a wink.

“Yeah, good luck with that, boys,” she said with  a wave as she ran over to Steve  who was standing in the doorway grinning at her.

“Bye, Vicki! Bye, Steve!” Jack yelled as he watched them clasp their hands  together and walk out of the bar.

It was close to three in the morning when Ryan and Jack finally dr opped  Michael off at home. He placed his keys on the counter and immediately  crawled into bed, pulling the covers tightly over his head, sleep being the only  thing on his mind. As usual, he flipped on the radio and drifted off to sleep. Michael was still in a deep sleep, having the most wonderful dream, when the  phone started ringing.

“Damn it!” His eye peeked out from under his blanket, temporarily blinding  him with the bright morning sun. He glanced at the clock as he started swatting  his hand toward the  sound of the phone. Eventually, Michael knocked the  receiver off the cradle and heard it crash to the floor.

“Crap!” he shouted. “I’m coming, just a minute … stupid phone,” he mumbled as

he grabbed the receiver and rolled back onto the bed. “It isn’t even  noon yet.

This better be important,” Michael growled into the phone.

“How much beauty rest do you need, pretty boy?” Jack quipped, his booming

voice wide awake and chipper.

“It’s not beauty rest I need, Jack. What I need is time away from the sound of

your voice!” Michael yelled into the phone.

“Dude, I have delicate ears, you know. Hey, Ryan, you talk to the crab.”

The phone hit something hard before Ryan’s groggy voice mumbled,

“Michael?”

“Did he just wake you up too?” Michael asked, now somewhat amused.

“Yes, do you want me to wait until you get here so we can kill him together, or

should I finish him off myself?” Ryan asked with a laugh.

20

“No, wait for me. I want to see him suffer. So what the hell is the reason for th e  early wake-up call?” Michael sat up in bed and tried to stretch out his still  weary muscles.

“All I know is, he ran into the room and jumped on my bed, blabbering  something about going hunting today.”

“Hunting? Like with guns? Don’t you usually have to get up well before noon to  do that? And I think we need a license or something.” Michael was completely  confused now. They had never gone hunting before. Hell, they hadn’t even so  much as gone fishing.

The extension picked up on Ryan’s end, and he heard Jack’s voice. “We’re going  hunting for girls, you idiots! Get yourselves clean and smelling good; don’t  embarrass me. Today we’re going to begin our intensive search. Get a move on. You have an hour!” Then he hung up his extension.