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It seemed that the only people who came to me were the little old ladies. Granted, these were bad-ass biker grandmas, but come on. I was a good-looking guy. A handsome guy wearing a three-piece suit in one-hundred ten-degree weather. I could kill Desiree for making me wear a suit, but she told me to look the part of Mr. Money Man.
“So, after this, did you- uh - wanna take a ride on the back of my bike?” I heard this biker ask Desiree. He was a big dude, looked like a ZZ Top reject, but she laughed it off and declined his invitation.
“I think my boyfriend would get jealous,” she answered, looking straight at me, biting her lower lip. Her flirty expression turned into worry. “Hardin, are you okay?” Desiree whispered, placing her hand on mine.
“No - I need to take this suit off, I am boiling.” I stormed away from the table and grabbed two bottles of water from the ice bucket, downing those in minutes flat. It was a minor relief, but what I needed to do was change out of this monkey suit or I’d be a goner. I rushed into the Harley store, rummaging through the racks. Holy crap! I never realized what cool attire they sold. I grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of jeans I hoped would fit. Hell, I may as well really look like I belong with someone one like Desiree and purchased a pair of badass riding boots as well. After I paid for my Harley garb, I asked the clerk, “Do you mind if I change into these?”
“So long as I get a selfie with you, Mr. Money Man!” Whoa, she knew who I was. Which, I’m sure, wouldn’t have been that way had it not been for the fake relationship with the Queen of Hearts. I humored the girl, who I admit was as sexy as Desiree, and took a selfie. I was a sweaty, stinky mess and had to change.
When I walked out, I stashed the bag with the sweat-soaked suit in my car and resumed the meet and greet in the heat.Yes, I was a poet and didn’t know it. Holy crap, the line had grown substantially, and I sneaked in behind Desiree. “Well, look at you, Mr. Mills,” Desiree purred. Maybe I didn’t succeed at sneaking in.
“The suit? By the way, it was a terrible idea. I was close to having a stroke. You really have a sick sense of humor, don’t you?”
She shrugged and smiled. Desiree didn’t comment and answered the fans’ barrage of questions.
Over the next couple of hours, we signed autographs, gave out business cards, and answered every stupid question regarding our affair. I learned at that time what a storyteller Desiree was. She was terrific and kept this whole meet and greet afloat. I knew it was all about her and it was proof this girl had a huge fan base. Most of them were men, but nonetheless, she had fans.
It was almost time to wrap the event up and as I was voluntold to help disassemble the gazebo and tables, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Desiree was enthralled in a deep conversation with some young guy. Jealousy encompassed me and being her boyfriend of sorts, I felt it was my place to intervene. “So, come on, Dez. I know we had our differences but I’m willing to make it up to you,” the guy whispered, but it was still loud enough for me to hear.
“Hey, Desiree. Are you ready to go?” I didn’t want to seem like a complete tool and approached this situation cautiously and professionally, for her sake.
“I am. I will meet you at the car.” I nodded, never taking my eyes off the guy as I walked away, though I was still close enough within earshot to hear the rest of the conversation. “Look, Chase. We had fun together, but I can’t trust you to stay faithful to me. I have a boyfriend now and I am happy.”
“Aw, that asshole who just walked up. Since when are you attracted to pussies now?” The man chuckled.
“I am not going to justify that cutting remark with an answer. Have a good life, Chase and I hope your dick shrivels off as you continue to sleep with everything under the sun!” Desiree walked past me, seething a string of curses under her breath.
“Hey Desiree!” She stopped walking and I took her hand. “Do you want me to beat up that guy for you?” I asked, which got a smile on her face.
“No, he’s a chapter I tore out of Desiree’s Perilous Journey to Love. He’s a liar and a cheat and I don’t wish to talk about him anymore.” We got into the car with the windows rolled down. It was stifling after sitting in the Vegas heat for hours.
“I have but one question.” I asked, though partially distracted, looking for what I wanted to listen to on Apple Music.
“What’s that? Why am I a magnet for losers?” She asked with a smirk.
“No,” I chuckled, though it was a good question. “That store is huge, why weren’t we able to do this meet and greet inside?”
“You can thank Frankie for that. He never told me why it was outdoors during record high heat.” Desiree asked, “And you can thank him for making you wear a three-piece suit. I heard you comment about it being my idea. I am not that cruel! I would’ve been happy even if you had shown up wearing only swim trunks.” Desiree raised her eyebrows, while moaning before she burst out laughing. “Hey, I am craving Mexican food, let’s go to the restaurant next to Red Robin in Centennial. It’s on me, so have as many margaritas as you want.”
Eleven
Desiree
We no sooner got our chips with the side of three different salsas and Margaritas when Hardin was already asking about Chase. “Did you two date long?”
I took a long, deliberate sip of my margarita with a straw, followed by a shot of tequila before I answered him. This was a topic of discussion that needed an ample amount of booze for me even to regale stories of this man. I was saved by the server asking, “Can I get a couple more shots of Patron and another Margarita? Anything for you, Hardin?” I noticed his Margarita glass was nearly empty.
“Dos Equis Amber from the tap for the gentleman, thank you.”
I was making more excuses not to talk about Chase, the man who obliterated my heart. I stuffed a chip, loaded with hot sauce in my mouth and looked around, sitting amidst awkward silence. When I swallowed, I told him, “Let me tell you the story about Chase Newton and what a complete mistake he was. We met while I was filling up the tank on my bike. It was as though he came out from a dream—hot as all get out and he knew it. However, I felt the chemistry in every bone in my body. The first date was perfect, though it ended up in his bed to some mind-blowing sex. We lasted for two years, and we were supposed to be getting married until I went to his house to find him screwing some chick. I found out he’d been unfaithful since day one.”
The blank stare on Hardin’s face was priceless and I couldn’t help the outburst of laughter.
“Wow, what a douche!” It was the only thing he said, and I could guarantee it was the only thing he could think of what to say.
“So, needless to say. I can get any man with no problems. The challenge is keeping them interested without them straying. I don’t date so much anymore. After Chase, I put an electric fence around my heart to guard it. What about you? Do you have any dating horror stories, Hardin?” These chips were taunting me, and I started eating one after the other.
“Yeah, I do. UNLV in my senior year—I dated this girl named Madonna—not kidding, her name was Madonna. She explained that her parents met at a Madonna concert and fell in love. Anyway, that’s beside the point. This girl was my world, and we were engaged. We had planned to marry and move to Chicago, where I had interviews set up. When we took a trip to Chicago for interviews, and looked at homes, I met her family and all that good stuff and… she ran into her old boyfriend. I had finished this disastrous interview and all I wanted to do was get a hotel room with her, so we could sexually get rid of my frustrations.” He paused when the server set down our second round of drinks and more chips. I sensed where this story was going and was eager to hear what not to do to this heavenly man who sat across from me. “I got to her parents’ house, and they weren’t home. I never expected to walk in to see her bent over the kitchen counter, while her ex was giving it to her.” I nearly choked on my shot of tequila, and it burned down the wrong pipe, which was like lava seeping into my lungs. Hardin chuckled, “I’m sorry, it was nothing to get choked up about.” I flipped him the bird and downed the glass of water.
