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“Perfect!” I shout. He startles and takes a step back. “I’m doing this scavenger hunt. Can I have your tie and pet your muscles?”
His mouth drops open and he gapes at me. He didn’t say no. I whip out my phone and stand close to him for a selfie while I touch his muscles.
He finds his voice. “I’m not giving you this tie. My boyfriend gave it to me.” His boyfriend? Didn’t he not two seconds ago wink at some guy? Men, I tell you.
“Is he wearing a tie?” I ask as I look around the room trying to spot his boyfriend. I squeal and clap. “Is he short? Under five-foot-two would be perfect.”
He eyes my glass. “How much have you had to drink?”
“A glass of champagne.” He tilts his head toward my glass. “This is coke.” He looks like he doesn’t believe me. I offer him a drink. “Here. Try it.”
Grayson snatches my glass before grasping my bicep and dragging me away from my prey. “What? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he seethes. “You offered your drink to a complete stranger.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re taking this chaperone business too seriously. I’m fine.” I pet his chest to console him. Big mistake. I can feel his muscles straining at his t-shirt. I snatch my hand away and shove it in the front pocket of my jeans before I’m tempted to pet other parts of him.
“See?” I use my free hand to point at Hailey and Phoebe who appear to have teamed up. I narrow my eyes on them. This is an individual sport. Not a team sport. “Their men are letting them be.”
My eyes widen when I realize what I said. “Not that you’re my man.” I take a step back and he drops his hand.
As soon as I’m free I take off. “There’s a karaoke machine!”
Those twenty points for singing a song in the middle of the dance floor are mine. Mine, I tell you! Nowhere in the rules does it say I can’t use a microphone for my song. I push my way through the crowd until I’m at the karaoke machine.
“Why is no one doing karaoke?” I ask the DJ who’s setting up the equipment.
“We don’t start until ten.”
Darn. By then the scavenger hunt will be over and I refuse to lose. “Can I use the microphone? And maybe ask you to play a certain song.”
He looks at my t-shirt and sighs. “Bachelorette party?” I give him my best sugar won’t melt in my mouth smile. “What song?”
“We Are the Champions from Queen.” Perfect for rubbing my win into Hailey and Phoebe’s faces. I squeal as he hands me the mic and the piano introduction starts.
I push my way into the middle of the dancing crowd and start singing. Unfortunately, I don’t know the lyrics, although I know the refrain because a toddler could remember the words.
“I am the champion,” I shout-sing at the top of my lungs into the mic.
The dancers start singing with me. Before I know it, everyone is shoving and pushing toward me trying to nab my microphone. I scream and start slapping at the hands. Where is my chaperone when I need him?
The DJ comes to my rescue by stealing the microphone, although I guess it isn’t technically stealing. “Enough,” he growls and marches off.
Once my microphone is gone the crowd melts away. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. At least, I got my twenty points.
Hailey accosts me the second my foot steps off the dance floor. “Don’t think you’re getting points for such a weak performance.”
“Yeah, you didn’t even finish the song,” Phoebe adds.
“It doesn’t say you have to sing the entire song.”
“Of course, it’s the entire song. Otherwise, it would say sing on the dance floor and not sing a song on the dance floor,” Hailey argues.
“Fine,” I give in. I ignore her and Phoebe as they clap in excitement. I need to get me some more points.
I scan the card. Use the men’s restroom. Piece of cake. I make my way through the crowd to the restrooms. As usual, there’s a huge line for the ladies and no one is waiting for the men’s. Thanks for making this easy stupid sexist architects.
I make my way into the men’s room and find an empty stall. I hold my nose as I drop my jeans and squat to relieve myself. At least there’s toilet paper in this place.
