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Boytoy: No, I have a date.
Carson: I'll save you a seat at the bar then.
Boytoy: No need. This one looks promising!
A moment later,my phone chimed. I downloaded the picture Ryan texted me, my mood instantly souring. The guy was hot and looked like a total douchebag. His starched collar and heavy gold watch screamedentitled rich boy.I’d bet my left nut he was the alumni of some prestigious fraternity and drove a Mercedes.
This wouldn’t do at all.
There was no way I was going to let that shark prey on my little guppy. I dropped the set of free weights I’d been curling with a thud and hurried from the gym. As soon as I got home, I jumped in the shower and stepped into my uniform, and then I hauled ass to the bar so I wouldn’t be late for work—and Ryan’s date.
To my relief, Ryan arrived first, and I was quick to pull him aside. I had no idea where he found the shirt he had on, probably went shopping this afternoon to impress his hot date. The black long sleeve shirt was sheer with a black embroidered tribal design across his chest, covering his nipples. He tucked it into dove gray pants and black shoes. He looked sophisticated and sexy. As I talked, my fingers went to work on his buttons, closing the ones he had exposed, for once. He had picked tonight of all nights to finally take my fashion advice.
“Listen, before he gets here, I have a couple of tips I wanna go over with you.”
“Like dating advice?”
Ryan glanced down at my fingers but didn’t bat them away. “Yeah, dating advice. Pay attention. When he gets here, sit down at your table and play it cool. While you’re talking, giggle. A lot. Giggle at everything he says, and also while you’re talking, in between sentences.”
“Giggle? Are you sure? That sounds like terrible advice. Giggling is annoying.”
“Trust me. Guys love it. Giggle.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes, suspicious of me. “I was told you like guys just like yourself. I’m having a hard time imagining you giggling.”
“Stop questioning my stellar advice. Also, the worst thing you can do is get stuck with food in your teeth. Nothing ruins a date faster than flashing a piece of basil every time you smile.”
With his hands on his hips, he questioned me. “How do I prevent that?”
“Suck your teeth, like this.” I demonstrated, making a loud sucking sound with my tongue and teeth. “Do that often. Like, real often.”
“Okay. In my opinion, that would be annoying, but I trust you, coach.”
“Good. Last piece of advice. When the food comes and you’re chewing, moan like you’re having an orgasm.”
His eyes rounded like an owl. “What? Hell no! There’s no way I can do that.”
“Ryan. Do you wanna land this guy or not? Let me hear your orgasm voice.”
“This is absolutely ridiculous.”
“Trust me, Boytoy, I've seen you come. It’s hot. Now practice. Let me hear it.” He proceeded to moan, completely falsifying the sound of his natural pleasure, and it was all I could do to keep a straight face. “That’s perfect. You’ve got this in the bag. Go get him.”
I clapped him on the shoulder and sent him on his way with a gentle shove. Ryan glanced back over his shoulder, eyeing me warily. I gave him a reassuring thumbs up and turned toward the bar before I lost my composure.
My brother waited for me, giving methe look.“That was shit advice. Is there a reason you purposely ruined his date?”
“Yes, his date is a douchebag. I’m doing him a favor.” I grabbed a sleeve of clean glasses stacked next to the sink and stocked them in the rack overhead.
“You’re going to hell.”
“Mind your own business, Carly.”
“How do you know he’s a douchebag? Do you actually know him? Or does like recognize like?”
Just then, the douchebag in question arrived, looking tanned and expensive. I frowned as I watched Ryan practically gush over him like a waterfall.
“Look for yourself. That guy is going to eat his lunch. He doesn’t stand a chance. Consider this my good deed for the day.”
