“I can’t believe you called him!” I look at my friend Gunnar, but I don’t know whether to be pissed off or feel relieved. I feel this is the push of needing someone in my life. I’ve been ready to settle since last August. Who knew that throwing that stupid bet was my way to go.
“Time to pay up, Stark. We’ve got two months to find you Mr. Right. Anthony is expecting you today,” Gunnar shouts as he walks out of my office, laughing to himself.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” I mumble one of my favorite Star Wars quotes as my door clicks shut. I hear a rumble and turn around to look outside at the dark gray clouds forming in the sky. “A very bad feeling.”
I grab my umbrella and keys and head to the underground parking garage. When I put the address into my GPS, I’m surprised to find out that not only is he close, but it’s at a freaking Forbidden Apple.
“What kind of guy doubles as a sex shop owner and a glorified cupid?” I ask myself, stupefied. I turn the ignition on and fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting in my car, palms sweaty despite the cold rain outside, and I’m pretty sure the nerves are making my heart thump out of my chest.
I get out and run inside the store, shaking my umbrella free of the rain. I look around and I feel the heat rise in my sheet. I’ve seen these stores everywhere between here and Houston and the guy with the purple hair wearing a vest that reads I’m so gay, I shit rainbows over a white shirt and a freaking bow tie. He’s hands down the most colorful man I’ve ever seen.
He’s helping a man look at an entire shelf made up of different fuzzy handcuffs. I listen to the man speak for a few minutes about each one before taking the guy to the register to check him out. Gunnar refused to tell me what Anthony looked like, only saying that I’d be surprised by the man and his talent. And the weird way he sometimes breaks out in French.
The bell rings above the door and a woman comes running inside shivering and wet from head to toe.
“Who did I piss off so much that we warrant rain and cold?” she asks the purple-haired man.
“I don’t know but girl, you’re a hot mess. I’ve got coffee in the pot in the back room. Go warm up.”
I smile to myself as I turn a corner and I come face to face with a wall full of dildos and vibrators of every shape and size. Out of the corner of my eye, as I stare down the toys, I see the purple haired man come up to me.
“Are these supposed to be comfortable?” My hand points to the advertisement for their new line of Avengers personal massagers under a sign that reads Wall O’ Cocks and the giant green one that sits out amongst its fellow friends.
“Sugar, that’s for a seasoned pro. If you’re looking for our more novelty line, might I suggest Cap? He’s always good for some old-fashioned fun.” He pulls the red, white, and blue one off the wall. “I’m sure your girl will love this one. I hear it’s got that super-soldier stamina and speed.”
He winks at me and I can feel my cheeks get warm with a soft blush.
“I, uh, don’t…I mean, I don’t have a…girlfriend.” I stammer. More importantly, I don’t have a boyfriend.
“Sugar, if you swing for my team then you’re definitely in the wrong section.” I feel my face go redder, and before I can duck away, he grabs my hand and takes me to the other side of the wall. “This is what you need, hon. None of that vagina monologue crap.
“Now,” he continues while clapping his hands together. “These bad boys will give you a perma-smile and make your ass se sentir magnifique.”
A hint of a smile cracks on my face. So, this must be Anthony “I was warned you might do that.”
His eyes slant for a moment before it clicks who I am. “You’re the guy Gunnar sent over?”
“Oliver Stark,” I reply, holding out my hand.
This guy is like my dream come true newbie. I like the inexperienced shoppers the best. Watching their minds explode as they open up to all the possibilities out there. They’re the ones who try to hide their purchases as they walk around the store. The experienced ones come in here like they own the place, march up to the register with a basket full of goodies, and will flat out tell you what they plan on doing with their new toys.
I’m like a bartender for the sexually repressed citizens of Austin, Texas. They share their woes and tales and instead of giving them a shot of tequila, I show them the best toys for a little self-love action. Or toys to spice up their frigid sex lives with. Either way, I cure their afflictions with a little love and a lot of lube.
As I watched the customer from earlier head out the door, his bag full of different cuffs and videos when all he came here for was a little advice, my gaze shifted to the man in front of the wall of dildos looking equal parts fascinated and scared. I walked closer and after I studied him for a second, I knew who he was.
A Star Wars shirt under an open plaid shirt, thick black glasses that frame green eyes, a mop of shaggy, curly brown hair on top of his head, jeans, and a pair of converse. It’s not every day someone with his descriptions walks into my store. This is Gunnar’s friend.
“Enchanté. I’m Anthony.” I hold my hand out, palm and fingers down and wink. “Sugar, why are we looking at weapons of ass destruction when we need to be talking about how to get your ass spanked.”
“Do you always talk like that?”
“The French or the American?”
“Um, both?”
“Honey, I talk the way I feel – out, open, and free, with a twist. I call it as I see it and if you don’t like it then oh well.” I watch his eyes take me in from bottom to top, in slow motion and wide as I talk.
“You look like a five-year-old with lavender and silver hair. And who wears bow ties?”
I playfully narrow my eyes and cross my arms across my chest. “Bow ties are cool.”
“Alright, Doctor.” His voice is sarcastic but his face looks impressed.
That’s right, nerd boy, I know a thing or two about Doctor Who, even if it’s only Britt forcing me to watch.
“Come on, let’s go to my office.” I lead us past the Wall O’ Cocks and into the door that sits behind the cash register. We walk through a small hallway and past the door to my office, I look back at Oliver only to find that the old nervous look has returned.
“Is it safe in here?” He holds his umbrella to his chest like a security blanket and his eyes sweep the room. I follow his gaze. A messy stack of papers on the desk that takes up almost a third of the room. The wall behind my desk, opposite the door, is covered with pictures of my matches, babies, the good times and the happy times. The wall to our right has file cabinets stuffed full of papers and with more sitting on top, and the left is just a happy thing to look at.
After getting kicked out of my home at sixteen, I vowed to never live in the dark again. To steer clear of the dreary isolation I once called home. My office is the complete opposite of my former life. The abstract wall to our left is bright, cheery, and the cherry on top? The disco ball that sits in the center of the ceiling.
“Cool your jets, Rambo. Take a seat.” I show him to one of the two chairs in front of my desk and I take a seat opposite him. “So, tell me a little about yourself. Besides losing a bet to our mutual friend, why are you here?”
“I lost that bet on purpose,” he starts but pauses for a second. “You know, men like me don’t usually get the girl or the guy at the end of the day. My job as an IT program manager is my life, I can stand to lose twenty pounds, and my habit of quoting obscure movie lines tends to turn people away. I’ve lived my whole life okay with the fact that I date, I don’t have relationships. But around my twenty-ninth birthday in August, something snapped. Of course, my big mouth opened up to Gunnar and now here I am. I told myself I’d take a chance. Do or do not. There is no try.” The last words are spoken in a throaty, slightly croaking sound.
I lift an eyebrow in question and another sheepish grin is met with rosy cheeks.
“Yoda? Empire?” I shake my head no while he expels a puff of air. “See? Even when I’m trying to be serious, I goof up.”
“Look, don’t beat yourself up, Oliver. Those fun little quirks only make you unique. I’ve even got a few people in mind. Tell me what you’re looking for in a partner.” He reminds me a lot of Natalie, Jennifer, and Nathan. Even Mikey would fit him along with a few other guys I have in my arsenal. Just gotta find out which one he wants and who suits him best.
“As you said, someone who likes my quirks. Someone who listens to me talk about my day even if they don’t understand me. Just an ear, ya know? Looks don’t matter to me. As long as we click.” He shrugs a shoulder and looks at me expectantly.
“I have some people in mind, but hon? I need to know, Jane or John? Chicks or dicks? Hoes or bros? Do you prefer breasties or testes?”
“Breasties or…?” He looks at me like I’ve grown another head. “Are you serious?”
“If you want my help, I kinda need to know,” I chuckle through my words.
“Guys. I prefer guys, but sheesh…” He scoots his chair back a little and my laughter rings out across the room.
“I don’t bite. Maybe just a little nibble here and there.” I feel my smile reach my twinkling eyes as he stands up to leave. “Now, give me a few days and I’ll give you a call. Just leave your number with Britt. And for goodness sake, sugar, don’t be scared. This is a fun journey we’re both about to take!”
“Not a problem there. Fear is the path to the dark side and I’m ready to get my hands dirty.” There goes that voice again.
This time it’s his turn to laugh as he walks away from me while I groan into my hands.
Oliver Stark is going to be one big pain in my ass.