Nicholas
“So I invited my friends.” I look into the mirror before me to see my sister’s reflection. “We all bought tickets because there is no way we’re missing this display of ridiculousness that you and the guys are putting on tonight. My guess is that all you end up doing is embarrassing yourselves, and you know me—I need the proof for all family functions. Home movies of my brother looking like a fool are always the best way to begin any evening.”
“Ridiculous?” I finally turn away from the mirror to look directly at her. “If I remember correctly during our lessons you said, and I quote, ‘Wow, Nic you do have moves. You might win this contest.’”
“I was trying to be polite. What I should have said was that you looked like you were three sheets to the wind and trying to swat away a swarm of bees.”
“No, I heard you pretty clearly before.” I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to allow her to act like she didn’t praise me. “You said, ‘With moves like that you’re gonna blow them away.’”
“As I said before, I was trying to be nice.”
“Why don’t you just ask your friends to stop by here first?” I tell her and watch her eyes narrow at me. “I could put on a pre-show and get their opinions.” I see her confident smirk falter for a few seconds.
“Nah, we’ll just watch you embarrass yourself tonight instead over drinks.”
“The only person that's gonna be embarrassed is you when you witness all your friends battling it out to win me.” She hates it when her friends show interest in me, and always has. They always wanted to be around me and my friends versus doing girly shit with her. “I bet there’ll be bloodshed.”
“Whatever.” She grabs the t-shirt from the end of my bed and tosses it to me. “I got you a size too small so that it fits tighter.” I arch my brow at her. “You need all the help you can get.”
“Are you saying I have a nice body?”
“Eww, no. What I’m saying is that the women will be too busy trying to figure out why you’re wearing a little boy’s shirt and ignoring the fact that you can’t dance for shit. It’s a distraction tactic.” She picks up her purse and keys and moves toward the door. “Don’t try to disgrace yourself too much, big brother.”
I chuckle when she disappears out the front door of my studio apartment.
I slip the shirt over my head, turn back toward the mirror, and slowly begin to run the dance moves I’ve rehearsed through my mind. My hips are rotating as I hold my hands out. Ever so slowly I start to run them over my body, and I lift the hem of the tight t-shirt to show my abs as they tense from my movements. The muscles of my arms and shoulders tighten too, and I’m suddenly thankful my sister decided to get the smaller, more fitted shirt.
I am ready for this. I am excited.
I wear a pair of worn-out and frayed jeans that hang just right on my waist. They are my favorite jeans and ones I’ve gotten a lot of compliments on. With a new haircut and my facial hair trimmed, I gather my keys and give myself one more once-over before I flip off the light to my room.
Jax, my three-year-old tabby cat, jumps off the back of the couch and starts moving toward me with purpose. Instantly he begins to circle my legs, rubbing against my ankle while meowing loudly.
“I gotcha little man.” I move toward the cabinet and pull out his cat food, dumping just enough to hold him over into his bowl. With a pat to his head, I slip on my shoes and exit my apartment.
I wasn’t sure how this entire thing was going to work out, but I wasn’t dumb enough to believe if things took a left turn, I might need to get away fast. That meant having my car on hand was a must. This entire thing was more about outdoing my friends versus winning some amazing woman. Though that would be the icing on the cake.
The auction is being held in the Chicago Cultural Center on Washington Street. I had only been there once before for a college friend’s wedding years ago.
As I enter the front doors, I notice instantly all the women filtering through the front lobby. All eyes are fully alert as if they are already on the prowl. You would think I was prime rib the way they all began to look me over from head to toe and back to my head again.
“Are you here for the auction?” I turn and face a middle-aged woman carrying a clipboard. I consider saying no and turning around to walk out, only the idea of letting the guys win that easily didn’t sit well with me.
“Yes.”
“Name.”
“Nicholas Vaughn,” I said as I watch her search through the list of names.
“A twenty-nine-year-old homicide detective,” she begins, her smile widening with each detail, “and Marine veteran who served two tours with Special Operations. Oh,” she pauses for a few seconds, and a smile spreads wide across her lips, “and you’re single, too.”
“Yes, those are all facts.” My words seem only to please her further.
“Well, let me direct you to the back where you can settle in and get ready for the show.”
I follow behind her and don’t miss the way she continues to look back over her shoulder every so often as if she’s sizing me up. That, or she is checking to see if I am checking her out. I have nothing against older women, they are beautiful, but this one reminds me of my Great Aunt Sylvia and I’m getting an unsettling feeling…fast.
Then it dawned on me. I was going to be auctioned off to a room full of lonely middle-aged women. The chances of this woman before me or one just like her being one of those women was pretty high. An involuntary shiver runs through me, causing the little hairs on the back of my neck to stand tall.
“We were beginning to think you weren’t gonna show up,” someone roars as the woman steps aside. I’m faced with Spencer, Frank, and Terry, who stop what they are doing to rush over toward me. “Thought you got cold feet,” Spence retorts.
“Hell no,” I say more confidently than I feel. “I just thought I’d give you three a little extra time to feel inferior before I showed up and squashed your chances.”
“Please, this place is swarming with so many hot women.” Terry appears more excited than I’d ever witnessed before. “Look at this.” He moves toward the curtain and pulls it aside as I step in closer.
It is nothing like I thought it would be. In fact, the room seemed to be full of the perfect mixture of older and younger women. I could feel the confidence that had faltered only moments ago quickly returning.
“Spence.” We spin around and move away from the curtains in a hurry to see a woman approaching us, looking serious. “We need to go over a few things before the auction takes place.” We’ve never met Spencer’s girlfriend, but I can almost guarantee this is her.
“Guys, this is Anna, my girl.”
“I’m hardly a girl,” she challenges him, and I feel laughter bubbling inside me, my chest shaking as I try my best to hold it in. “So we need to get a few things set before you go out on that stage.”
Terry and Frank stare at her like she’s sprouted horns, and I cover my mouth with my hand, trying my best to make it appear natural.
She skips right over the pleasantries with us and turns her attention back to Spencer. “So there’s no need to go out there and fight for the attention of any of those women. The only one you’ll be leaving here with is me. A smile, a wave, whatever, but nothing too alluring. There really is no point in piquing anyone’s interest.”
Spencer looks like a scorned kid.
“Agreed?” Anna adds and Spencer nods. I want to fucking laugh; I’m talking bent over holding my gut kind of laughter. Did she honestly have this kind of hold over him? She points to her cheek and Spencer leans in to place a kiss there before she spins on her heels and walks away.
I look at Terry and Terry looks at Frank, who is staring at Spencer. We are all slightly confused by the crazy display we just witnessed. Spencer is always so cocky and arrogant, but that woman seriously just walked away with his nuts in the palm of her hand.
“Hey Spencer, did it hurt?”
He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face. “Did what hurt?”
“When your girl ripped off your balls and tucked them in her pocket.” Frank and Terry chuckle and even a few guys near us who overheard the entire thing laugh along too.
“She doesn’t control me or my choices.” It sounds more like a question than a confident statement. Spencer even looks back over his shoulder, I’m sure to see if Anna was anywhere close enough to hear him. “In fact,” he begins again when he realizes she is gone, “I’m gonna go out there and make the ladies scream. There won’t be a dry seat in the house.”
“No, because they’ll piss themselves with laughter at the sight of you.” Terry high-fives Frank like some high schooler as they both sputter with laughter at their shared lousy joke.
The determined look on Spencer’s face assures me without words that things are about to get interesting—meaning his girl was going to beat his ass and quite possibly castrate him by the end of the night. He had something to prove and as we presumed when we first found out about this night, things were most definitely about to backfire.