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“Well, it’s not even her fault this place is a fucking disaster area,” I say sharply. “Rupert can’t tell his ass from his dick.”
I turn aside from them and grab the shit for my wig. Cody and Liam look confused, like they don’t know what happened.
I don’t know what happened either.
But I know calling Elowyn names is formeto do. Not anyone else. It always feels like I have unfinished business with her. There’s something that tugs me to her, and I don’t know what it is. It’s probably that my hand itches to spank her ass, because never has anyone needed a cherry red ass like Elowyn Carew. My hand literally fucking twitches around her sometimes, because I want to lay it across that ass and see what her face looks like when I do.
I’ve given up trying to intimidate her into leaving, because she’s hard as fucking nails. But it’s still a pleasure putting my hands on her, tangling her hair up in my fist and watching her eyes spit fire at me. I’m not going to allow anyone between Elowyn and I. Because I’m the one who is going to bend her to my will.
6
ELOWYN
Liam had been at me again to find him a boyfriend. I tried to listen patiently with my conflict management skills as he listed Beau’s many sexual perfections as an occasional lover and then described how he needed to move on.
“Why do you thinkIcan help you find a man?” I asked.
“You look like the kind of person who knows a lot of delightfully repressed and horny down-low gay guys,” he said.
I sighed as I looked into Liam’s mournful eyes.
And I still wouldn’t have brought Bruce in, except Liam had continued to be moody. One night I helped him put his wig on and he sighed again, then whispered to me, “Oh, it’s all meaningless, isn’t it?”
“No, it isn’t,” I retorted. “If you go out without the wig secured, you’ll be sorry.”
“I meanlife,” he said irritably.
I tsked in an undertone, looking up quickly at Beau to make sure he hadn’t heard Liam’s sighs, because they’d only make his head bigger. But he was busy putting on a long teal wig and he didn’t appear to be listening.
“OK, fine,” I hissed at him. “I know someone who could be a match for you.”
Bruce Peters was the son of one of my dad’s boring golfing friends and had recently broken up with his long-term boyfriend.
I stood at the back of the club as the queens rehearsed for Out of This World Fantasy & Sci-Fi Night and I called my mother to get Bruce’s number.
She handed the phone to my father as she dug in her purse for the number and he greeted me in his hearty, bluff way.
“How’s it going, kid? How’s the consulting going?”
I knew my father’s hearty, bluff manner had made him a lot of goddamn money in the conflict management field, but I found it very annoying.
“Fine,” I said. “Everything is going well here.”
“Ready for the next job?” he asked.
“Next job?” I cried. “The conflict isn’t even remotely managed here. This is some high-level and complex shit to manage. In 6-9 months Imightbe out from underneath the worst of it.”
“Elowyn, it should take two weeks, max—” he started to say, when Muggsy suddenly grabbed me by the arm.
Muggsy was the artistic director of Heavenly Lights, a jumpy man in his 70s with a tall, thin body and a thick and vivacious head of hair. He reminded me of a long and adorable stick insect.
“Beau thinks the golden bikini is for him!” he cried in low and throbbing tones. “It isnot. It is for Deiondre. It will look divine on him. I have a seafoam green minidress and some pointy ears for Beau to be an elf.”
“What do you wantmeto do about it?” I asked.
“Beau won’t listen tome,” Muggsy said. “You’re the only one not afraid of him. You’ve got to help me, Elowyn.”
I sighed.
