The Bad Jokes #1: The Redhead

Chapter 13: Take That, Mr. Wright!

I took special care with my appearance that night, just in case, say, Xane happened to be watching out his window right as we walked by or maybe he might be coming in from the parking lot as we headed out. I wanted Mr. Wright-but-turned-out-to-be-Mr. Wrong to see me at my best, maybe see that I wasn't entirely disgusting or repellent to all men. 

Get it through your head, lady: I don't want to date you, fuck you or even talk to you. I don't find you attractive or interesting or someone worth my time. Is that making my disinterest clear enough or should I go on?

I tried to push Xane's ugly words to the back of my mind and concentrate on my appearance. My new-to-me siren-red dress that I'd borrowed from Justice was a little shorter than I was used to, but she assured me that as long as I didn't bend over to pick anything off the floor, the dress would maintain its R-rating instead of shooting immediately to a triple-X feature. I wore four-inch platform heels that did really good things for my legs, and the beach waves I'd put in my hair just worked right for once. Nodding confidently at myself in the mirror, I felt good about the way I looked.

Take that, Mr. Wright!

I'd been thinking entirely too much about his startled, and somewhat irritated, reaction to the news of my date. I needed to stop thinking about him and focus on my date for the evening. Law was a good-looking man, dark-haired, slender body, with a killer smile.

Law picked me up right on time, and drove me to the steak house. Our conversation was easy, he was considerate and polite and he enjoyed laughing as much as I did. He was a construction worker who built commercial properties, and he told me about some of the funny stories that happened to him in his line of work. I shared with him about my students and the community theater, and before I'd known it, two hours had passed.

We were walking out of the restaurant, trying to decide between going to a jazz bar or a sports bar for a drink, when I got a text from Alexander.

Need immediate extraction. Four-star clinger, possibly moving to five. 24961 Forest Grove Ave. Penthouse.

At first, I was irritated at his presumption that I had nothing better going on on a Sunday night. Granted, Sunday wasn't the most normal night for a date, but when your play was in production, Friday and Saturday nights were kind of out.

Then I got to really thinking. I still owed him for the couch stunt that had forced me to not only talk to Xane, but to allow him into my apartment after he'd done me a favor.

"Everything OK?" Law asked when he saw my frown.

Looking up at him consideringly, thinking about his great sense of humor, I quickly sketched out Alexander -- his annoying pranks, his blackmailing my cousins and me to get us to help him out of sticky ex-fling situations whenever he demanded help, and my needing to get him back for his last asshole maneuver. So I outlined my plan of attack to Law and then paused for breath.

"So, I know it's a big ask, but...could you help a girl out with some payback?"

He grinned at me, and then in the absolute worst fake New York accent I'd ever heard, said, "Love to, doll face."

After texting Alex back to let him know I'd be there in thirty minutes, we made a quick stop at Target where I ran in, bought the items I needed, then ran back out to the car.

I fixed up Law so he was wearing a thick, cheap gold chain around his neck, had him unbutton his shirt halfway down his chest, popped about three pieces of bubble gum in his mouth, stuck a toothpick in the corner of his mouth, then watered his hair down and slicked it back with a comb.

Perfect high class male...madam. I messed up my hair, smeared my mascara under my eyes a bit, and dragged my bra straps down onto my upper arms. I also smeared my lipstick onto my front teeth just for that added touch. Alexander might very well go nuclear over this, since this was a friends and colleagues function, but I would enjoy it while it lasted because, well...he was due for some pain.