Duched(6)

 

 

 

"Look," Hugh begins with a heavy sigh. "I really like Dana."

 

 

 

"You really like every woman you date. You're a serial dater."

 

 

 

"You say that because you're afraid of monogamy."

 

 

 

"I say that because you're afraid of being alone."

 

 

 

He shakes his head. "I really like Dana. She's different-"

 

 

 

"Three tits?"

 

 

 

"She's smart. Kind. Has a job. Doesn't live off her trust fund. And she would rather become a lesbian than sleep with you."

 

 

 

"Doubtful."

 

 

 

"Direct quote." He beams. "I'd really like to see where this goes, which happens to mean doing things she enjoys. Like art showings."

 

 

 

"Why can't she enjoy things that are actually fun? Like white water rafting?"

 

 

 

"You hate white water rafting. You hate how it frizzes your hair."

 

 

 

He makes that sound so feminine.

 

 

 

"True, but you know what I mean."

 

 

 

"I know you're being a pain my ass because you're bored."

 

 

 

"Extremely. Art showings are by definition boring."

 

 

 

They are! Splotches of paint covering a piece of canvas? Oooo....Call the No One Really Gives A Damn Police and let them know one of their most wanted figures has escaped.

 

 

 

"Well, Dana enjoys them and since you showed up a day earlier than anticipated you're going to have to deal with it."

 

 

 

It was either leave a day early or spend it listening to my father drone on over appropriate and acceptable public behaviors. At least this way, there's the possibility for fun. What do you mean do I mean fun or sex? They are the same thing, aren't they?

 

 

 

After he has another sip, he tries to reassure me, "No need to worry. We probably won't be here too long. She really just wants to meet Treme and purchase one of his pieces."

 

 

 

        

          

        

         

 

 

 

"To sit comfortably above your kennel?"

 

 

 

He rolls his green eyes. "I'm sure you can find something here to occupy your attention and make the headline of a bullshit blog."

 

 

 

I have another sip and smirk. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

 

 

 

"Yes." Seeing Dana head our direction, his smile expands and he commands through gritted teeth, "Now, make this portion of the evening tolerable or I'll let Dana play matchmaker for the rest of your trip making life absolutely miserable for you."

 

 

 

"You're a bastard."

 

 

 

"And that's why we're friends," he mumbles before asking loudly, "Have you met Treme yet, babe?

 

 

 

Babe? Bit trite of a nickname for someone who claims they're head over heels.

 

 

 

"No," she pouts and moves into his embrace. "He's surrounded by women worshiping his every move. I can't get even get close enough to call out his name and potentially be heard."

 

 

 

Hugh's face seems to fall. "I'm sorry, babe. What can I do?"

 

 

 

He sounds genuine. How unexpected...

 

 

 

"Would you like me to send Kellan that direction? Give the women something else to follow around for the evening?"

 

 

 

With an amused expression, I ask, "Did you just offer me up as a sacrifice?"

 

 

 

He gives me a quick glance. "Yes."

 

 

 

"You didn't even hesitate."

 

 

 

"You didn't exactly object."

 

 

 

Deeming his point fair causes me to nod and have another sip of champagne.

 

 

 

Even those who don't recognize exactly who I am in this country, still have no problem coming after me. Guess I look close enough like someone who should matter even without trying. Hey, I'm not egoistical. I was simply stating an observation.

 

 

 

"Would you?" Dana's overly thinned eyebrows shoot up. "Would you just stand in their general eye range? I'm sure it would distract enough of them for me to actually ask about the painting I want before another buyer beats me to it."

 

 

 

Hugh gives me a stern expression.

 

 

 

He looks constipated, doesn't he?

 

 

 

"Fine," I sigh and have another sip. "I've been meaning to give Swiss a reason to earn his pay."