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Her words spin around in my brain like a cyclone. "Are you kidding? That's kinda ass-backwards, isn't it? Marriage is serious shit. Not a fuckin' game."
A dazzling smile spreads across her face and she nods slowly. "Exactly. See? You understand it already. Can two strangers commit to a relationship, having faith that a group of experts has paired them with the right one? I think it's fascinating."
"Yeah, I'll give ya that. But what if it doesn't work? What if we want to kill each other? We get a divorce and walk away with a cash consolation prize?"
"I suppose so, yes."
"And how do we know if the other person is in it to meet the right person or just for the cash? People are greedy as hell. I don't need another fucking gold digger in my life. Been there, got the T-shirt."
Opening the purple mystery folder, she peruses the pages before glancing back up at me. "I agree, sweetheart. That's why each applicant has to go through rigorous questioning, to hopefully weed out people like that who aren't doing this for the right reasons."
"And you want me to do this?"
"Yes, but only if it's something you think you can seriously commit to and be open-minded about. I think, inside, you do want commitment. But you hide it with your 'I'm just a player' attitude and one-nighters."
"Maybe that's all I'm good for, one-night stands."
"That's total crap. I've seen the way you look when Storm and Evie are around. I think you want that closeness with someone, even though you're too stubborn to admit it. I can see it in your eyes, though."
Leaning forward, I smash my cigarette into the ashtray. "I've never even been in love. I don't want to hurt some chick who's getting into this hoping to find a knight in shining armor. The chances of me staying in a relationship, or them wanting to stay with me, are pretty slim."
"I disagree."
"What if they put me with someone totally ugly or demented?"
"They won't. They'll match you with who they think is right for you based on their interviews with you."
I ponder this insanity in my mind for a few minutes. If someone could plop the perfect girl into my lap, you wouldn't hear me complaining.
"Do you get to meet the chicks getting into this? Or at least see their pictures and applications? Can you pick me a good one?"
"I might," she says vaguely. "So what do you think?"
"I think you're using me as a guinea pig. Does Dad know you're doing this?"
"Yes, of course. He thinks it's a great idea. And no, I am not using you. I just want to see all my kids happy and in love, and I think this might give you the little extra help you need."
"Do I get to fuck her?"
"Talon!" she exclaims. "For God's sake, your mouth!"
"Well, do I?"
"Of course. It's a real marriage. There will be a wedding, with real vows. You'll sleep together, live together, everything. I'd prefer you say make love, though."
Shaking my head, I laugh at her. "Says the woman who just wrote an erotic best seller," I tease. "Mom, this is seriously the most messed-up thing you've ever done to one of us, and that's saying a lot. I know you use us in your twisted little books, but this really takes the cake."
Leaning back in her chair and crossing her long legs, she smiles knowingly at me. "I know you, Talon. You're my youngest son. I spent more time with you than any of your brothers, and you were such a sweet little boy. You loved to be loved on. I know you must be a little bit intrigued with this, right?"
Actually, I am, but I have no idea why, because this has disaster written all over it. "Yeah, I am, I guess. If it works, it would actually be pretty cool. I'm tired of the bullshit that comes with dating and dealing with sluts and women who only want to be with me because I'm in a band."
"See? This girl will have no idea who you are. Not a clue."
"I like that idea a lot."
"If you get accepted into the program, you'd have to seriously commit to this in every way."
"I would."
"And you cannot cheat on her. I will not tolerate infidelity in this family," she warns. "If you're unhappy with her, you wait until the six months are up and you split up before you touch another woman. That includes groupies, fans, and psychotic exes. Is that clear?"
"Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence."
She tilts her head to the side. "You forget I married a musician. I know what goes on, believe me."
"Dad would never cheat on you. He loves the hell out of you."
"That's true, but that never stopped other women from trying to lure him."
My decision comes fast. "If your nutty little group can find me the woman of my dreams, trust me, I ain't gonna cheat on her."
"That's the goal, Talon. You just have to have an open mind and heart."
Squeezing the heart-shaped stress ball on her desk, I grin at her. "All right, Mom. You're on. Challenge accepted. Let's see if you can find the perfect chick for me."
Chapter 4
Asia
I'm at my archaic sewing machine trying to piece together what's supposed to be a dress when Kat comes flying into my apartment.
"Your worries are over, my dear friend. I have found the most epic solution to your problem, and it literally landed right on my desk." She heads straight for my refrigerator and pours herself a glass from a pitcher of fruit-infused water I made the day before.
"Which problem might that be?"
She produces a wrinkled up piece of paper from her purse that's got scribbles and yellow highlighter all over it. "Your man problem," she says.
"Kat…no. I'm fine."
"You're not. You haven't gotten laid in three years, girl. You're twenty-five years old. As your best friend, I cannot let your vag suffer for another year."
Scowling at her in disgust, I pull the dress out from the machine. "My vag is fine, thank you very much."
"That material is fabulous!" she exclaims, fingering the soft, patterned dress. "You will have to make me something from this. And your vag is not fine; it’s a desolate black hole screaming for love and pounding."
"I'm pretty sure it's not."
"It is. I can hear it. But this—" she holds up the paper "—is going to change that. And so much more."
Rubbing my head as it starts to throb, I squint at the paper. "What is that?"
"This is the coolest social experiment I have ever heard of."
Anything with the word "experiment" in it cannot be good. "I'm already scared, but go on."
"Well, Dr. Hollister is heading up this project. I've been typing up all the notes and outlines for her, and I just got so excited, because this is the coolest thing ever. If I didn't have a guy already, I'd be begging her to let me join in on this."
"Dr. Hollister, your boss? The relationship expert?" Kat is basically a secretary and research assistant.
"She prefers relationship coach, but yes. So what they're doing is meeting with a bunch of single people like yourself and putting them through this crazy-ass interview process, and then they match you up with the perfect partner. Then, you marry them and live together for six months—like legit marriage, a wedding, all that shizz."
I stare at her in horror, completely dumbstruck by the mere idea of this, but she ignores my expression and continues. "During that time, you have to keep a detailed journal of everything that happens, even the juicy stuff. At the end of the six months, you can either stay with the guy, if things are working out, or you get a divorce. And, are you ready for this?" She steps closer to me. "You get paid fifty-thousand dollars. Asia, this could change your life. You might find an amazing husband, and you will finally be able to get out of this fucking ghetto! Either way, it's a total win."
Cringing at her ghetto comment, I stand up and carry my dress over to my worktable in the corner. "Or I could end up heartbroken. Or pregnant. Or with a total asshole. Or murdered, cut up, and left in a freezer somewhere. Seriously, it's a crazy idea."
She rolls her eyes at me. "Please. This is run by a team of ps
ychologists and experts. Everyone will be evaluated before they are chosen. Dr. Hollister is very serious about her work. She's not going to let a bunch of freaks participate in this and cause her embarrassment."
