What A Girl Wants (6 page)

Circling, circling . . . anything to avoid appearing alone (gasp) or uninteresting (horrors!) to her peers. But it wasn't like she'd ever just walk up to a guy she didn't know. She didn't have the guts. Stupid. Hayley knew this. She had many excellent qualities. Women much more annoying or unattractive than she did quite well at parties and bars.

Well, this time she had no choice but to enter the fray. And after all, she had armor. Hayley hoisted her boobs one last time, squared her shoulders, and walked up to the table. She offered a brilliant smile.

“Johnny Beer bottle-cap opener, anyone?”

Within seconds the men engulfed her in some sort of alternate universe. They ogled, flattered, bribed, begged, flirted, offered her an unlimited supply of free beer, and generally treated her like the most desirable woman on earth.

At the end of what seemed like several hours, Hayley detached herself from the mob to use the restroom. When she returned, a blond, heavily muscled blue-eyed hunk handed her a fresh beer and stepped directly in front of the sleek Asian fellow who'd been flirting with her last. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked.

He sounded drunk or stupid. Or maybe he was just from L.A. Hayley took a swig from the bottle and grinned. This was fun. “No. Why don't you tell me?”

He looked confused. As if he wasn't expecting to actually have to answer. “You're really, really beautiful.” Hayley didn't say anything and he obviously got the impression he had to do a little better than that. “You're like a big yellow-and-green sunflower. Like a big yellow-and-green sunflower. Yeah.”

Hayley shook her head and giggled before turning away. There
really was something about the dress, the boobs, the commemorative bottle-cap openers, the act, the whole shebang, that attracted men like flies.

And the interesting part was that Hayley kind of got into it. She turned some of them away with a look or a word, insulted the ones who were too grabby, and flirted back with the ones she liked.

She was starting to understand just what Suz was talking about when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to find a gorgeous Latin-looking man dressed in Armani.

“My name ees Sergio Montoya-Azevedo.” He put an arm around her waist and dipped her backward in a lover's swoon (she had to clap one hand over the wig to keep it from flying off), and then bent over her and lasered his passionate eyes into hers. “And now I am going to dance weeth you.”

He lifted her up onto the bar, then, without looking, pointed with full arm extension behind him at the deejay station and cued Ricky Martin.

It wasn't like in the movies, where the bar being danced upon is miraculously free of drinks or other breakable objects. And it also wasn't like in the movies, where both parties coincidentally happen to know how to dance a decent salsa.

Hayley had no idea how to dance any kind of salsa, but since Sergio kept his body as close as he could get to her, what with the skirt smashed up between them, all she had to do was wriggle out a sort of bastardized version of dirty dancing and everyone was happy.

Her lack of dancing prowess didn't seem to matter much. Even as beer steins and martini glasses smashed to the ground and, in full view of the entire bar, Sergio's hands started to roam in places that had nothing to do with salsa dancing, nothing really seemed
to matter. The bottom line was that a Latin hunk was dancing on the bar with Hayley Jane Smith trussed up as a buxom Bavarian virgin.

And what this told Hayley, as she leaped off the bar into Sergio's arms and headed with him to the coat closet, was that all men were ultimately the same.

Sergio pushed aside a wad of coats and moved Hayley into the back recesses of the closet, his hand wandering around her thighs searching for access. “
Querida, querida
,” he murmured as he pushed his knee between her legs and started to grind his hard-on into her pelvis while sucking on her neck.

Hayley really hadn't done the drunken snogging thing since college and was thoroughly enjoying that hazy, lusty, pit-of-the-stomach sensation. Since her inhibitions had pretty much disappeared several beers ago, she figured what the hell, maybe she could get an orgasm out of the evening. She reached down and flipped the skirt upward flat against her body to get better contact with Sergio's leg.

Unfortunately, his hands moved up her waist toward the boobs. Well, that was enough to break any woman's concentration. There was no way Hayley was traveling to the land of humiliation by letting him discover that her ample Bavarian bosom was a fake.

She pushed his hands down, hoping he'd pick a more southern destination to grope. Unfortunately, the train was an express. Blurting out a fervent prayer to Santa Maria, Sergio flailed out an arm for something else to hold on to, latched on to a coat, and yanked it off the hanger as he came into his perfect European trousers.

Hayley leaned against the closet wall as Sergio slobbered on the side of her neck in ecstasy.

Interesting.

Stripped down to their very essence, gorgeous or disgusting, men were all just a bunch of drooling horndogs. There was nothing discriminating or intimidating about them. That was Suz's basic underlying truth.

Once she could see that, Hayley realized there was really no point in waiting all her life to see which men would come to her. She might as well make a well-thought-out decision about which drooling horndog she really wanted and actively pursue him. Even if he was good-looking enough to give her a complex under normal circumstances. In fact, especially if he was good-looking. Because all she had to do was go up to one and ask.

It was a heady realization. Principle understood. Execution yet to come.

Suddenly the closet door opened. “Hayley, you done in there?”

Suz. “Yeah.” Hayley eased away from Sergio and let him fall to the ground. Patting at her costume to straighten whatever might need straightening, she stepped through the wall of coats into the bar, ignoring Sergio's muffled cry of “
un momento!
”

Suz had changed back into her regular clothes and had her own bag and Hayley's bag with her. “I'm driving you home. We can pick up your car tomorrow.” She put an arm around Hayley's waist and led her out the door and down the street. “I wasn't sure if you wanted to go home with him or not.”

“Nah. We were kind of petering out anyway. There were too many things to deal with. I clearly wasn't going to get any satisfaction.”

Suz propped her against a tree and opened the cruiser's door. Hayley winced at the sound of scraping metal, then rolled herself around the tree trunk and stumbled into the car.

She adjusted the seat into a reclining position and let her head loll to the side. Her head seemed somewhat large for the rest of her body. It was heavy. Heavy and stuffy was her head. “God, what's that smell? Is that me? Shit, Sergio couldn't have—”

“Nah. It's just some new species of fungus growing on the backseat upholstery. Don't worry about it. . . . So, from my side of the closet door I think I was hearing some satisfaction. Am I right?”

“It was only Sergio. I couldn't concentrate. The conditions weren't right. There was the bra issue. There was no way I was going to let him find out that there was no ‘there' there.” Man, her tongue was sort of thick as well. “There. There,” she repeated experimentally. Was she starting to get bloated? Correct enunciation was clearly out of the question.

“Oh, right! Sorry about that. Kinda like wearing the wrong underwear.”

“I don't know about that theory. If you wear sexy underwear, it makes it seem like you planned to have sex with him.”

“So?”

“I prefer not to appear to be a slam-dunk. You really want to wear your middle-grade underwear. That's how I see it. And frankly, it was so dark in there, I don't think Sergio could have seen what I was wearing. Unfortunately, we didn't get to that point. But it was fun. He was a good kisser. Not as good as the policeman, but good. ‘
Querida, querida.
' ” Hayley giggled. It sounded very loud in her ears.

“Maybe he'll go back to the bar tomorrow night.”

“Who? Sergio? Can't say that I'm dying to see him again, in spite of his good looks. We really couldn't communicate.”

Suz laughed. “Because your tongues were in each other's mouths?”

“No, because his English is terrible and my Spanish is worse. In any case, we didn't have that emotional bond.”

“Well, you didn't exactly give it a chance.”

“Well, I felt it right away with the policeman.”

“You'd just discovered a dead man. You were upset.”

“So.” Hayley felt a breeze on her head and put her hand up to adjust the wig forward. “Hey, where's my wig?”

“Last time I saw it, the moose was wearing it. I'll get it down tomorrow night.”

“My God, when did it fall off? How long was I wandering around without it? That's crazy! I thought I was unrecognizable.”

Suz shrugged. “Sergio didn't seem to mind. And neither did anybody else.”

“Well, that's another thing. What's with guys these days? Always looking for convenience. Sex isn't supposed to be about convenience. It's messy, embarrassing, and totally inconvenient.” Hayley was starting to feel belligerent. “I'm tired of having all this foreplay standing up. It's so . . . noncommittal. I think I deserve a bed. I think I deserve a bed and some hot sex. I'm tired of excuses. Corpses, inflatable bras. It's always something. It's ridiculous. I'm ready.”

“For what?”

“I'm ready to ask out a man. I'm ready to ask out a man of my own choosing. And I'm ready to proposition him. I'm ready, I say.”

She belched and began to fade into a deep, alcoholic sleep as Suz whistled low and said, “Execution time. This will all be arranged.”

“Just like you said. I wore it . . . and he
came
. Get it?” The last thing Hayley heard was her own slurred laughter ringing in her ears.

“L
et me get this straight. I only just scanned my e-mail. . . . So you went to ask for a raise and instead you lost your job?” Diane asked. When Hayley nodded, Diane's eyes narrowed. “Man, I disappear for two measly days for some hard-core studying and it's like Armageddon.”

“Yeah, it's kind of embarrassing. And just to clarify, I didn't merely lose my job. . . .” Hayley paused dramatically, then hissed, “I got
basura
ed.”

“There was no way you could
possibly
have failed.” Audra shook her head at Hayley, then sneezed and grabbed a couple of paper napkins from the canister to handle the result. She appeared to have cold symptoms in June. Failure had that effect on her. And Hayley's colossal raise disaster was a pretty big failure.

After Hayley'd e-mailed the girls detailed messages on Friday with the bad news, Audra had sent a reply—typed entirely in capital letters—that she'd gone home early from work, sick with “a blotchy swelling stuffiness.” Now anyone could see that Audra's glossy bobbed haircut was in more than the usual disarray (the
center part wasn't straight), and that, while swelling wasn't apparent, light pink blotchy patches did, indeed, blanket her face and arms—and she was clearly stuffy.

Hayley didn't want to think about what might happen to Audra if the whole Beer Garden episode came out right now. Cardiac arrest was not something she was prepared to deal with on a Sunday morning.

With one hand gripped around one of Gerttie's monster-sized orange juices, Audra railed on. “When we went home on Thursday night, you were all set. How could it all have escalated so quickly, with such nightmarish results? These things don't happen to me. And I coached you. I feel responsible.”

“It was self-sabotage, really,” Hayley explained, then took a fortifying swig of latte. “That's what it was. I was avoiding actually making a big decision for myself. I set things up so that I ended up with what I probably needed, but I made someone else do the dirty work. And it definitely wasn't a graceful exit. I don't blame
you
. If I'd just followed your—”

“So, Hayley,” Suz interrupted. “Let's get to the good stuff. Tell me, when the dog went under your skirt . . . were you turned on at all?”

Three coffee spoons fell to the Formica tabletop with a clang. Hayley stared at Suz, her jaw practically in her lap.

“Not even just a teensy-weensy little bit?”

“No!”

“Ignore her,” Audra said. “She's just trying to shock you.”

Suz shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Gross,” Diane said, shuddering.

“Didn't Bud ever give you head?”

Poor Diane blushed scarlet.

Suz leaned forward with a wicked smile. “Well, you said he was like a shar-pei. . . .”

“Leave her alone,” Audra said. “You're the one with a predilection for sleeping with dogs.”

“Ha-ha. Ugly men can be excellent in bed. Overcompensation theory.”

“Oh, shut up, Suz . . . you know, something's weird about all this.” Diane looked Hayley over. “You're not acting like you normally do after this kind of catastrophe. Something's . . . off. It's not your mental state, is it?”

“What are you talking about?” Hayley asked in alarm.

Diane leaned in close and sniffed Hayley three times in quick succession. “It's physical. I smell alcohol.”

Audra turned slightly puce. “I don't want to know. Don't tell me anything,” she muttered, and then blew her nose into a paper napkin.

“You can't possibly smell alcohol on me. I showered this morning.”

Diane sniffed some more. “Residual. You had a hangover yesterday, didn't you?”

Audra looked over at Suz in a daze as if she were trying to put pieces together but couldn't make them fit. Suz smiled cheerfully at her. Audra frowned back, suspicious.

The sound of Diane's persistent sniffing grew louder. Hayley put her hand on Diane's forehead and pushed her head away. “Stop smelling me. It's gross.”

“It's objective analysis,” Diane said, trying not to laugh. “Did you lose your job and get plastered as a way to forget your humiliation and despair?”

Suz snorted. It was a particularly gleeful snort, and if Audra
hadn't been so sick, Hayley was sure her friend would have picked up on the nuances of Suz's behavior already.

“No, that's not what happened.”

“By the way, that's a lovely little scarf you're wearing, Hay.” Audra dabbed at her nose with a napkin. “I don't think I've seen it.”

Hayley's hand flew up to her throat and she quickly fluffed the little black scarf she'd tied fifties-style around her neck. “Thanks, Audra. I really don't wear it too often.”

“Yeah,
nice scarf
, Hayley.” Suz overenunciated each word, and everybody turned and looked at her. “God, remind me not to wear shorts here on such a hot day. My thighs are sticking to the vinyl.” With a rude squelching sound she detached herself and grinned broadly.

Audra rolled her eyes. “You're just happier and perkier than ever, aren't you?”

“Yes, I am. While I'm
extremely
saddened, of course, that your advice didn't work for Hayley, I am happier and perkier than ever . . . that
mine did
.”

Audra gasped.

Hayley sighed. The writing was on the wall. The whole story was about to come out, and Suz was the only one who already knew everything. Hayley wished she'd called Diane and Audra before brunch to deescalate.

Diane sat forward. “This was after Hayley lost her job? You gave Hayley advice and it worked?”

Suz eased back in her chair rather smugly. “That's exactly what happened.”

“Well, I don't know if I'd call it advice,” Hayley said. “It was more of an experience. A real eye-opener, though.”

Audra did her best to look blasé but she couldn't do much to
hide the horror. “I can't imagine why Suzy's so smug,” she muttered.

Suz produced a dazzling smile, then reached across the table and jerked down the scarf around Hayley's neck.

“Suz, you can't just—” Too late now. The three girls stared at her neck, at a nice medium-sized hickey.

Audra shrieked and looked at Suz with competitive ire.

“What on earth did you do to her?” Diane asked.

“Well,
I
certainly didn't give her the hickey,” Suz said.

Hayley rolled her eyes. “I might as well go ahead and spell it out.” And she did, right up through gorgeous Sergio's climax and rather anticlimactic collapse in the closet.

“Okay. Let me get this straight,” Diane said, as she stole a piece of melon off Suz's pancake plate. “Suz dressed you up like a German prostitute, got you drunk, and then thrust you into the arms of a groping Spaniard.” She popped the melon into her mouth and looked at Suz with exaggerated disbelief.

Suz deigned to lift an eyebrow. “The dress was Bavarian. Not German. There's a difference. And we don't know for sure if the guy was actually a Spaniard.”

Audra shifted restlessly in her seat “This is outrageous. Absolutely outrageous. Poor Hayley.”

“Poor Hayley, nothing.” Suz tipped back her chair, balancing on the back two legs while she held on to the table with both hands. Her tank top slid up, exposing her belly button and a wide swath of skin. Hayley noted that Suz definitely had a little love-handle action going on, but she also noted that Suz somehow managed to get away with it. It was all about the attitude.

“Does she look poor to you?” Suz was saying. “Does she look
remotely unhappy about the events of Friday night? I think not. I think I see a shit-eating grin, that's what I think I see.”

Hayley opened her mouth to speak. She did, in fact, have on a shit-eating grin. And she was in the mood to talk about it, but Diane cut in too fast.

“She looks like she's had a lobotomy.”

“Yes, she does,” Suz said. “And she didn't even get the orgasm.”

Hold on just a minute.
Hayley leaned in toward the middle of the table. “I'm right here, people. I'm sitting right here. No need to discuss my orgasms in third person.”

“Do we need to discuss them at all?” Audra murmured, scratching the side of her face violently.

“Not having an orgasm is nothing to be embarrassed about,” Diane said. “I'm not having any either.”

“Oh, God,” Audra said, looking around the diner.

Alarmed, Hayley put up a hand. “Wait a minute, I didn't say I'm not—”

“You haven't shown much interest in men or sex in quite some time now,” Suz said to Diane. “Is there something you'd like to share? We're all progressive, you know.”

“No. Nothing in particular.” Diane shrugged. “It's true, I'm not concentrating on men right now. I'm developing my mind.”

Suz rolled her eyes. “Well, there's an excuse.”

Diane shot Suz a steely glare. “It's not an excuse. The only guys I have access to right now have bad skin and only want me for my note-taking prowess. It's not worth my time. I'm only twenty-five, I have a nonexistent sex drive, and I don't need to be bothered. You understand what I'm saying, don't you, Audra?”

Audra didn't answer. She was engrossed in viewing all possible
angles of her face in the tiny mirror in her lipstick case. Little distressed moans and tongue clicks were all she was capable of at the moment.

“Why take a course in sex if you aren't interested in having any?” Hayley asked.

“Obviously I'm going to be having some at some point. And I might as well be prepared. I should have as much accumulated data as possible when that time comes. I just don't see the point of getting all worked up about it if I'm not going to enjoy it for another ten years or whatever. I'm waiting to peak.” Diane leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, completely unperturbed.

Suz, on the other hand, seemed bowled over by the idea. “You're planning to be celibate for
ten years
?”

“Well, I'm not really putting a time limit on it. I just figure I've been celibate by default for the last three. What's another ten or so? Besides, it's not like I'm taking a vow or anything.” She shot Suz a meaningful glance and added, “I'm just not going to obsess about it. When I'm thirty-something and ready to go, it will all seem much more appealing. For now, if I want to, I can take care of business myself.”

“Well, at least let me give you a couple of my
Cosmo
back issues,” Suz said, shaking her head. “If you're going to do it that way, you might as well do it right.”

Hayley almost laughed aloud when Audra looked up from her mirror, one eyebrow cocked, apparently at the ready lest anyone go into too much detail about “taking care of business” at the breakfast table.

In fact, she put the lipstick case down and quickly put the conversation back on course. “Honestly, Hay, was it just the fact that
you got together with this Sergio person that's making you so upbeat, or did you really learn something from Suz's exercise?”

“You promise you won't laugh?” Hayley asked.

“Of course not.”

“It made me put myself out there in a way I don't usually do, you know. I got a strange kind of confidence out of it.” She blushed a little, because there was something embarrassing about admitting that you had low self-confidence to begin with, even to friends who knew you as well as you knew yourself. “I mean, it's true that most of the time I was in disguise, but—”

“Not the whole time,” Suz noted. “In fact, not most of it. You just thought you were. You lost the wig about an hour in.”

“Right. Well. Yeah, okay. Let's just say that I discovered what I'll refer to as the Drooling Horndog Theory.”

“Drooling horndogs?” Diane hooted with laughter. “I'm definitely glad I wasn't there. What's the gist?”

“The bottom line of this theory is that men don't have to call as many shots as we seem to think they're entitled to. I think it's a fear thing.”

“That's an interesting observation,” Diane said. “As they say, ‘Man has the advantage of choice, woman only the power of refusal'?”

“Exactly! Men just aren't as scary as we seem to think they are. We let them have this power over us and we shouldn't. They're all pretty much the same, with the same instincts and the same reflexes and the same tendencies. Even the good-looking ones.”

Everyone digested that bit of news, Suz nodding in wizened agreement.

Finally, Audra begrudgingly said, “Well, that's more reasonable
than I expected.” But then she coughed, blew her nose, and scratched her neck vigorously.

“Jesus, Audra, are those turning into hives now? You're not getting hives just because of me, are you?”