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"If anyone knows about selling themselves, it's you, Danbury," Bam retorted.
Any other time, I would have offered him a high five. That was a pretty good burn.
Harvey smiled. "You know about buying sex, do you, Mr Clinton?"
Bam laughed, almost in the guy's sleazy face. "I've never had to buy sex in my life. Don't worry though, it's nothing you should be ashamed of. A guy has needs, even one like you."
Harvey's lip curled, but he smiled. Not a pleasant smile. He looked like he'd sell his own mother if it made him money.
"Even hookers have to eat," he said. "The things people do whatever they have to, to get by." He looked directly at me.
I resisted the urge to flip him off. "If that was the case, I wouldn't be ashamed of it. It's a more honest way to make a living than anything you do."
"Really?" Harvey said slowly. "Care to tell me all about it?"
He was so revolting he made my stomach turn.
"You first," I said.
Bam chuckled. "Yeah. What makes a guy crawl through the sewers for a few dollars?"
"Because it pays more than a few dollars," Harvey said. "And it's just as useful to society as throwing a piece of dead animal around and calling it a job."
Bam shrugged. "Millions of fans all over the world seem to like it. It's called entertainment."
"So is what I do," Harvey said. "Your dirt makes people feel better about themselves."
"I could sue for harassment if you hang around much longer." Bam turned to me. "What do you think, Grace, should I sue his ass?"
"This is a public place," Harvey said, but he took a few steps back. "We're merely having a pleasant conversation."
"Grace and I were having a pleasant conversation," Bam corrected. "You weren't part of it. Run along now, before you've outstayed your welcome even further."
Personally, I think he'd outstayed the moment he appeared, if not before that.
Harvey smiled at me. There was no way anyone's teeth were naturally that white. Or straight. Maybe someone punched his real teeth out at some point.
"Word is, Mr Clinton here got you sacked from a very good position—" he drew the word out, "with the Rapids. If you ever feel bitter enough to talk about it, look me up. Our mutual friend, Bec, knows where to find me."
I knew for a fact she was no friend of his, but I gave him an insincere half smile.
"If I'm ever that low, I'll seek you out," I said.
"Good, I'm sure I pay much better than he does." Harvey looked me up and down. He clearly had more in mind than a story.
EWWWW.
He turned and walked away.
I made a gagging sound in the back of my throat. "If that doesn't give me nightmares, nothing will." And if I didn't find work after this party, it might be my reality. That made me want to curl up in a ball in a corner and cry.
"I'll personally make sure that never happens to you," Bam said. "Hell, if I have to start a charitable foundation and give you a job there, I will." He paused, then snapped his fingers. "That's actually a really good idea. I could call it… Bam… Something. I'll work on that." He grinned.
I tried to smile, but I wasn't sure if he was serious or not. And if he was, could I bear to work with him for—potentially—years? How long could a person hold a candle for someone they see regularly and not go completely crazy?
"That's something to think about," I said, showing neither enthusiasm nor condemnation of his idea. It was a good one, really, and could help a lot of people. What I wasn't sure about, was my involvement.
"It really is." Bam had obviously taken the idea and was running off with it in his head. "We could have a Christmas in July party every year. And a Christmas one." He glanced around. "With all the ugly jumpers." He looked like he was about to pull every one that might fit me off the shelves and buy them all here and now.
