I finished my drink and asked for another as well.
The steak was delicious and was a good distraction as Misty began to ramble on about her dress designs and about some new handbag she had bought with Daddy’s money. I thought she said it was a “Monica Lewinsky original,” but that couldn’t have been right.
I was half listening, and I mostly grunted at the appropriate moments. As I took juicy, delicious bites of steak, followed by smoky and full-bodied sips of whisky, I was imagining what I was going to do to Aubrie once I got home.
Misty paused and stared at me, and I realized I had missed something she said.
“Right, totally,” I grunted.
She laughed. “You love to wear silk thongs too?”
I grinned. “Not me personally.”
She leaned forward. “If that’s something you like, maybe I can show you what I’m wearing.”
“No, thanks,” I said.
She wasn’t deterred. “Are you sure?” she asked, pouting. “I think you’d like it. Pink and easy to rip off.”
Is this girl for real, or is she too drunk to notice the cameras?
I thought to myself, glancing over at Jess. She was barely concealing a smile.
I looked back at Misty. “You know this isn’t a real date, right?”
She smiled and finished off her second martini. “Maybe. But I can be very convincing when I want to be.”
I sighed. “I’m sure you can be, Misty.”
She smiled at me. “Have you ever fucked a blonde in a limo?”
I almost choked on my steak. “No, can’t say that I have.”
“Do you want to?”
I winced. “No, thanks.”
“Mmm, come on, Based. I thought you were fun.” She gave me a little smile.
“Sorry, Misty. We need to keep this strictly professional.”
“That’s perfect. Because I strip on the weekends. I can show you my profession.”
I almost fell out of my chair, and I could have sworn I heard someone in the crew snorting with laughter.
“You strip? I thought your dad was loaded.”
“He is, but stripping is fun. I love when men throw money at my bare pussy.”
I couldn’t help it. As soon as she said “bare pussy,” I burst out laughing along with the crew. She was the most absurd person I had ever met in my entire life.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, leaning back. She looked surprised.
“Nothing. Just that phrase, ‘bare pussy.’ Do you really think that’s going to work?”
“You fucking asshole.”
“Oh, come on.”
“No, fuck you. Do you have any idea how many guys want to get some of this?” She gestured at herself, and I burst out laughing again.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re very desirable,” I said between laughter.
“You piece of shit. You’re passing on the best sex of your life.” She leaned forward. “I have no fucking gag reflex.”
I completely lost it. I leaned back in my chair, bellowing as she turned redder and redder, clearly beyond pissed off.
“Fuck this and fuck you. They should call you Pussy Carter.”
“Oh, come on, wait,” I said as she stood up. I made no real effort to stop her, though, too busy cracking up.
“No. You had your chance. Go fuck yourself.”
I watched as she stormed out of the room, swaying slightly. After a minute or two, I slowly regained my composure and noticed that most of the crew was laughing along with me. Everyone except for Jess, of course.
“Did you really have to do that?” she asked me.
I took a bite of my steak, chewing slowly. “No, I didn’t have to. But did you hear that shit?”
“She wasn’t bad looking.”
“She’s an idiot. It would be way too easy.”
“I didn’t realize you were picky, Based.”
I gave her a look. “You know damn well that I am.”
She paused. “You settle up. We’ll wait for you at the car.”
As if on cue, the crew began to break down the lighting and to turn off the equipment. I turned back to my meal, biting into the last bit of my steak and sipping my whisky.
All in all, it wasn’t such a bad night. I felt a little bad turning Misty down like that, but she should have known better. It was always a bad idea to put yourself out there right on camera.
It definitely was not the worst date I had ever been on. At least I got steak.
Chapter Seventeen: Aubrie
I hated feeling jealous.
There was nothing worse than jealousy, especially when you knew that there was no real reason for it. Still, I couldn’t help myself. I remembered what Misty looked like, and when Lincoln was forced to go on his date with her, I wanted to hide under my bed.