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“Evening ladies,” he says as he adjusts the mic, lifting it a few inches and tightening the screw on the side. Everyone cheers and claps. He looks at me then and winks before smiling at the rest of the women in the crowd. Flicking back the sides of his jacket, he slides his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been asked to provide some entertainment while you wait for the guys to come,” he says.
There’s a big cheer, and he obviously realizes what he’s said and gives us all a wry look.
“While you wait for the guys toarrive,” he corrects. “Jeez. I can see what kind of mood you’re all in tonight.” Everyone whoops again. “Actually,” he says, “a friend of mine, Amanda, is a comedian, she was supposed to be doing an innuendo routine tonight, but she can’t be here, so I’ve got to fill her slot.”
I burst out laughing, and he looks across and chuckles. “Thanks, love. It helps to have your girlfriend in the crowd.” While we all laugh, he accepts a bottle of water from the guy who hands it to him, unscrews the top, then drinks half of it. “Ahhh…” he says, putting the lid back on. “That’s better. I’ve got to water down all the alcohol.” He puts the bottle on the table, then points at Elizabeth. “That’s your husband’s fault. I was trying not to drink too much, but every time I looked away, he filled my glass up.”
No wonder he looks disheveled—he’s three sheets to the wind. Ohhh… I like sexy, intoxicated Alex. He’s enchanting every girl in this audience, but I’m the only one who gets to take him home. I remember then that Juliette told me he used to do stand-up comedy when he was at uni. This is going to be one helluva experience.
“Right,” he says. “Where was I? Oh yeah. Innuendo. Well, there’s much more where that came from.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alex
“A woman walks into a bar and asks the bartender for a double entendre,” I say. “So he gives her one.”
Half the girls laugh, and the other half try not to, and fail. I chuckle and have a mouthful of Scotch. Part of the reason for drinking is Dutch courage. I’ve been the keynote speaker at international conferences and given a presentation to the prime minister and her cabinet, but it’s much harder getting up in front of a crowd of young women. I know most of these girls well, and they’re all gorgeous and kind-hearted, but I have no doubt they’d eat me alive if they sensed an ounce of weakness.
“A naked man broke into a church,” I say. “The police chased him around and finally caught him by the organ.”
That causes more than a few giggles, and my lips curve up. “Oh, you like that one? Okay. Here’s another knob joke. My penis…” I stop as they all cheer and laugh. “Hold on,” I protest, “let me tell the joke. My penis was in the Guinness Book of World Records…” I stop once more as they all cheer again. “Girls! For God’s sake. This is going to take all night.”
“We don’t mind that,” Sidnie calls.
I grin and try again. “My penis was in the Guinness Book of World Records.” I wait a few seconds, and say, “but then the librarian told me to take it out.”
They all burst out laughing. Then someone yells, “Get your kit off!”
I raise my eyebrows. “Seriously? Here I am, delivering quality comedy, and you just want to see my boxers?”
“Whooooo!” They all cheer, and I laugh and have another swig of whisky. I go to say something, but they just cheer again, and I have to wait until they finally let me speak.
“I’m sure the last thing Belle wants is to see her brother take his clothes off,” I say wryly.
“I don’t mind seeing you be humiliated,” she calls.
“Fair enough.” Ah, fuck it. It’s Belle’s hen party. Don’t they deserve a bit of fun? Plus, I want to show off for Missie.
Still holding the glass, I point it at them and say, “Okay, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to tell each of you a joke, and if I can’t make you laugh, I’ll remove a piece of clothing, okay?”
I glance at Missie. Her eyebrows have risen almost to her hairline. “I am so going to regret this in the morning,” I tell her. “I apologize in advance. I’m a little tipsy.”
“More than a little by the look of it,” Gaby calls.
“Maybe. So be kind to me.”
“Not a chance,” she says.
I give her a sarcastic look, then run my gaze along the front row until it falls on a young blonde woman with a mischievous smile. Titus’s girl is also Huxley’s baby sis. I’ve met her many times, and she’s really sweet, so hopefully she’ll be good to me.
“Heidi! Okay, you’re first.”
“Oh God.”
“Don’t worry, I’m always gentle the first time. Ask Missie.”
Missie rocks her hand from side to side, debating the issue, and they all laugh.
