Chapter 2
Lance
Somewhere in the process of growing up, I began to hate Christmas.
I remembered the excitement of gift discovery, but now I could buy myself anything I wanted.
Right out of college, I’d borrowed money, gotten a couple of investors and started a mattress company called Royal Manufacturing. By combining a little tech with the use of a new conductive foam, we engineered a mattress with a frame that was as responsive as the human skeletal structure. Using an app, the user could elevate or lower any four-inch grid of the mattress, which made it great for busty or pregnant women who wanted to sleep flat on their stomachs. The temperature was likewise controllable, as was the firmness. It vibrated (with accommodating snap-on appendage toys), it changed colors, and best of all, with the tap on a button, it converted itself into a sofa.
To say the mattress was popular would be an understatement. We couldn’t keep up with the demand. Hotels, college students, lonely singles, young couples, the obese; anyone you talked to could find a reason to buy one, and buy them they did. I became a billionaire, literally overnight—pun intended.
By my twenty-ninth birthday, I had everything in the galaxy I could want, except a lady with whom to share it. I just hadn’t gotten around to that quite yet. But my folks wanted grandchildren, and the pressure was on. I would be turning thirty in January, and I had decided to rent a massive event venue and have a party. I hired a staff to plan it and to draw up a prospective guest list. They told me it would be the hottest ticket of the century, and as it worked out, it was, indeed.
My cell was buzzing. “Hello, Mom.”
“Lance, I’m at the designer’s picking out fabric for my dress. What colors will you be using?”
“Mom, it’s not a wedding. You can wear whatever color you like,” I told her. The moment I said it, I regretted it, because I knew she needed boundaries. Giving her choices left her flustered. “I always thought you looked great in blue, though,” I threw in.
“Blue? Oh, well… if you say so.”
This rattled her. “Any color is fine, Mom.”
“No, no, if you want me in blue, then blue it is. I really liked this green velvet…” she said, letting the air claim the rest of her sentence.
I loved my mother, but she drove me up the wall when she played this verbal tennis with herself. Why couldn’t women just choose something and get on with the more important things in life? “Now that you mention it, I thought that green outfit you wore last Christmas was great. Why not go with the green?”
“The green? I wonder if there’s enough on the bolt. I want a really full skirt.” She was back to the blue in her head, and I thought I’d blow a gasket.
“Mom, sorry, but I have to take this other call.”
“Oh? Very well, then. Don’t you worry. I’ll figure this all out on my own.”
“I know you can do it, Mom. I’ve got to go now.” I tapped the disconnect and sighed. Was I really sure I wanted a woman around my neck for the rest of my life? Especially if ’it was the same woman?
My cell buzzed again. It was Dane, the guy whose firm I’d hired to organize the party. “What’s up, Dane?”
“Hey, Lance. Listen, we’re brainstorming here, and we thought it might be kind of cool if we really go outside the box to get some publicity for the party. I mean, we both know it’s for more than your birthday.”
“What exactly did you have in mind?” Inwardly, I was cringing. I liked my privacy, but on the other hand, I understood that the more eligible women who were there, the better the odds I might find one I liked.
“Yeah, so this morning while the coffee was brewing, I picked up this local TV show for women. Mind you, it’s not the sort of thing I watch, but given our gig here, it caught my attention.”
“Okay, I get it. Go on.” I was rolling my eyes. I wished Dane would hurry up and come out. I knew he’d be much happier.
“So, there’s this woman whose name is Angela Brand. She’s developed quite a local following. I guess her gig is doing makeovers. She takes girls who could use some improvement and fixes them up for their prom, wedding, job interview; you get the idea. It raises their self-esteem. She’s picky, though. She doesn’t take anyone who’s a dog, to begin with. They just have to be that blossom that has yet to open.”
“So, get on with it, what’s your idea?”
“I got to thinking we could hire this Angela Brand. Do a little cross promotion, if you will. I’ll give her a call and tell her to pick out her own single girl. Someone who’s a diamond in the rough. We’ll pay her fees, wardrobe, transportation, and you get the idea. Do some before-and-after shots.”
“Wait a minute. You’re not saying you want me to pick Brand’s girl just for a promo, are you?”
“No, no, this would just be our way of getting into her customer database. Brand can let it be known in her circle that you have suddenly put yourself on the market and she might hold the golden ticket. She wins because it grows her clientele and we win because it makes it a competition and the losers will stay home. I also figure, what the hell, it could bring more customers to Royal. The whole thing would be a tax write-off, and you never know, you might find ‘the one.’ What do you think?”
“Remind me not to hire you to advertise my mattresses,” I told him with a sour expression. “That’s really lame.”
“I admit, there are some details to be worked out, but I think the more publicity we have, the better your odds. Face it, the worst that could happen is you dance with a beautiful girl all night. It doesn’t mean you have to marry her. Call her your lifesaver girl.”
I gave it a few ’moments’ thought and said, “Okay, I’m game. This whole thing is going to be such a farce, anyway. I’m planning to just get through the night to satisfy the folks, then I’m either staying single, or I’ll try a different closet.”
Dane drew in his breath. “Wait! Are you telling me that you’re gay?”
I was laughing inside, knowing he would be unable to resist the bait. “No, Dane, I’m not. I’m as straight as they come. Sorry.”
“Oh.” I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
I teased him some more. “You know, you could open that door and find yourself a little happiness for a change.”
“Let’s not go there.”
“Deal. Okay, so how am I supposed to know this girl?”
“I could say I hope it’s natural selection, but we’ll figure out something. I’ll let you know.”
“Got it. Bye.”