"I will not." Arthur growled out between his clenched teeth. "And I will not be joining you for dinner. I'm leaving."
"This is not how I raised you to behave." His mother reminded him. "If you don't get into that house this instant and sincerely apologize, then...." He glared at his mother with a look of pure malice that she'd never seen in his eyes before, giving her a moment's pause. "Arty... what's wrong?" She asked suddenly. "This isn't like you. I've never seen you so angry. Are you on..." She suddenly dropped to a whisper that even Arthur had trouble hearing. "Steroids?" She returned to average volume. "Or something?"
"No." Arthur said firmly. He shook his head and glared at Lynn. "That bitch made my life a living hell for years. YEARS. I will not be in the same room with her if I can help it." He explained. "And I can help it." He didn't look at Lynn, who, to her credit, had the decency to be blushing rose-red and look extremely ashamed. "My apologies to you and dad, but I cannot, and will not, be staying for dinner. Now let go of my ear. I'll collect my things, and we'll catch up some other time."
His mother looked angry, but she could see the look in her son's eyes. She'd seen that look twice before, and she knew that short of being able to physically overpower him, which was an impossibility now, there was no chance of getting him to sit down for dinner with them. She might as well ask him to commit some atrocity or pick up his car and walk home.
"Fine." She said finally as she let go of his ear. "Go and get your things. I'll make your apologies. And you and I will be speaking about this very soon. You have embarrassed yourself and us tonight." She said in frustration as he stormed past her. "I hope you're proud of yourself."
Was he proud of his behavior? No. Yet, this was the best possible behavior he could hope to exhibit. Seeing her. Seeing Lynn and seeing her smile? Seeing her look at him as though he were the meal on offer here, not whatever they were throwing on the grill? He should have been drunk on the power trip. Instead, he'd wanted to murder her. Okay, maybe not murder. He was a pacifist and believed that violence was never the answer. And yet, the thought of bodily throwing her into the pool and hoping that she never learned how to swim for all those times she laid out in her bikinis at the pool or beach was dangerously satisfying.
He stormed through the grass, back onto the rear patio, into the pool house, grabbed his things without changing, and returned to his car. His mother and Lynn were not there when he came back, having returned to the house. He looked toward the front door, but seeing no one, he slammed his car door shut behind him, started the engine, and left as quickly as his temper would allow.
He seethed in the car on the way home. Uncontrollably angry and in full knowledge that the mere sight of her shouldn't have enraged him that way. He was acting like a child. He knew that, which made him angrier with himself, which did not help abate his anger. His entire body flushed with the heat of it, and he could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. He was so angry that he could cry because, as a man, there were so few acceptable ways to purge one's tears. Yet also, as a man, anger was never an acceptable emotion. Emotions themselves were considered a weakness among his people. Usually, that joke made him and his buddies laugh. Right now, he had to wonder how much of it was really a joke.
He didn't want to go home. He couldn't return to the apartment and be this angry. Selene was still there, and she wasn't expecting him this early. She'd think something was wrong because it was, and she'd want him to talk about it like that would help. He didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to forget it as quickly as possible so he could go back to believing that he didn't have any emotional issues he needed to address. Then he could just enjoy a life where four different women wanted to fuck him in rotation.
Maybe a good angry hate-fuck would get it out of his system. Not with Lynn, obviously. That would likely end with him in prison since things like rape and murder were still illegal in every decent country and even some indecent ones. Someone who could take a good rough fuck, though? Maybe Kat? No, she was done for today, and she didn't need to know that he was having problems. She'd think he was unstable, call the whole thing off, and convince Selene to break up with him too.
Not that Selene was his girlfriend.
He shook the steering wheel in frustration and gave an audible scream of frustration. That was it. He turned the music up as loud as it would go, blaring some kind of rock that he didn't pay attention to at all. It was not metal enough to warrant the amount of screaming he did under and over it in nonsensical rage until, finally, all the energy left him through his lungs, and his throat was a little hoarse.
When he stopped, he realized he'd passed his apartment building a few minutes ago. He didn't know where he was at all, really. It took him a second to get his bearings, and he pulled into a bar parking lot to look it up on his GPS. The sun was nearly set, and the lights marking the bar "O'Malley's" had just lit up. Despite the name, it didn't advertise as an Irish pub but looked more like an upscale Italian place. He wasn't far from home, but he didn't want to go back there right now. He was still wearing his swim trunks, with his suit and everything crumpled in the seat next to him. He had a text from his mother and one from Selene.
He opened the one from Selene first. It was a picture of an empty glass of water, followed by a smiley face emoji and a heart emoji. He didn't smile, but he was glad she listened to him. Without texting Selene back, he opened the text from his mother.
Mom: I'm sorry. I didn't know what happened to you and Lynn in high school. I thought you two had just grown apart. I never would have tried to set you up with her if I knew you hated her.
Arthur was too empty of energy to be as shocked by his mother's confession as he felt it rightly deserved. He didn't need to be set up! He had four women wanting to fuck him any time he called! Well, three. Well, one, but the other three were just as likely to be down. Then again, his mother didn't know that. They hadn't really talked about his romantic life. He was going to update her on it but hadn't gotten around to it. She knew it'd been a while since he had broken up with Lori and that he would try to put himself back out there. That was the last they'd spoken of it nearly a month ago.
He took one deep breath in and then another. He practiced his breathing techniques for a few minutes until his grip on the steering wheel finally loosened enough that he felt he wasn't in danger of snapping it when he moved his arm away.
He texted his mother back.
Arthur: What did she tell you?
Mom: She told me she teased you in high school, and it got out of hand. She said you had every right to hate her for it, and she's really sorry. She was trying to find you to apologize to you personally, but she didn't get the chance because she didn't recognize you at first, so I gave her your email.
Arthur: You what?
Mom: Well, apparently, you blocked her on everything else? She's tried reaching out on social media and texting and calling you multiple times.
Arthur: She told you this, and you immediately recognized this as a sign that I did not want to talk to her, so you gave her my email?
Mom: Stop being such a baby. She just wants to apologize to you. Talk to you. You two used to be such good friends.
Arthur: Yeah, when we were five.
Mom: You're acting like you're five.
Arthur sighed.
Arthur: I'm sorry I ruined your dinner.
Mom: You didn't. We still had dinner. You only ruined it for yourself. She's still here. Do you want me to pass the phone to her so you can talk to her and apologize?
If Arthur's mother had seen the glare that erupted in his eyes, she would have been immediately aware of her misstep. As it was, she was only aware that she could only pretend to be making drinks at the bar in the sitting room for so long before she had to return to the dining room and listen to her husband's fourth retelling of the same story they'd all been there to witness in the first place.
Arthur: No.
He flipped back to Selene's texts and sent her a thumbs-up emoji.
Master: Good Girl. Now drink some more. And order Dinner.
Slut: Yes, Sir.
And with that, he looked up from his phone. There was a woman stopped in front of his car in the parking lot, looking at him. He looked back at her. She looked uncertain about something and then stormed up to his window and knocked on it. He rolled it down.
"Are you here for the Derby party?" She asked.
"Uh... no." He said, shaking his head.
"Well... could you be?"
"Excuse me?" Arthur asked.
"The guy we hired bailed because he got sick or something, so the company refunded us because they're overbooked, and we're calling around trying to find a replacement right now because the party starts in a few minutes, and here you are! We'll pay double whatever the other party would pay you tonight." She went on in rapid-fire.
"Uh..." Arthur said, trying to puzzle out what she was talking about.
"Triple." She said in a hurry and practically threw a wad of hundred-dollar bills threw his car window and into his lap and front seats.
"Sure." He said as he looked down at the cash and then back up to her. Then, realizing that she might be asking him for a whole range of services that were illegal to provide for money, he added in his best Pippin-in-Rivendell impression: "Where are we going?" And then. "And what am I doing?"
The woman smiled gleefully, clapped her hands, and then pointed to the bar above them. "We've rented out the whole bar." She said as she gestured to it. "You go ahead and get dressed, then come around the back. I'll let you in. Do you have your own music?"
It suddenly occurred to him what he must look like wearing nothing but a small red pair of red trunks in the middle of a bar parking lot and what services the not-unattractive woman had just purchased from the man she thought was an exotic dancer.
"Uh..." He answered. "I do not."
"That's okay, that's okay. I'll set up a playlist on my phone." She said as she waived away the least of her concerns. "What's your name? Your stage name, I mean."
"Uh..." He paused, trying to think up a stage name on the spot. "Tommy Sinns." He joked, but she just nodded, so he rolled with it. "Astronaut, plumber, talent scout, fireman, whatever." He shrugged.
She smiled like a child at a fireworks display. "Do you have a fireman's costume?"
"Uh..." He looked around him. "Not with me, no. I've just got my... business executive costume...." He lied. "But there's a Spirit of Halloween store just down the block if you can give me like... fifteen minutes?" Was he really doing this? He couldn't take this woman's money. He wasn't a stripper. He knew how to dance, a little, sure, and he could take off his clothes, and he could probably give these women a good time, and one last thrill before whoever it was in their party got married, but there was no way he was going to do this, right? This was like something out of a sitcom.
And like a sitcom, it would make for one hell of a story by the time it was over. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience that he would never be able to enjoy otherwise. He had to do it, right? When you looked at it like that. Besides, what was it that Mindy said? They were in college. They were supposed to try new things and have fun.
The night itself was a blur of surprisingly good times. He took some of the cash she'd thrown at him, bought a costume from the spirit-of-Halloween store down the block, and returned with time to spare.
The bar was small but elegant. Its atmosphere might typically have been a lovely place for a date. Right now, though, its decorations for the bachelorette party were all penis-themed. Still, it had surprisingly clean bathrooms. He used the men's room to change. The bride-to-be, the older woman's niece, was a lovely young blonde who almost reminded Arthur of Selene, though she was nowhere near as shameless. She blushed as red as Arthur's fire truck helmet when he put it in front of his junk and gestured for her to peel away his red trunks.
Despite the alcohol and the general hands-on nature of drunken women who assumed anyone in that good of shape was probably gay and therefore safe. It was a great time until the one latecomer to the party finally arrived and sat down to join her fellow bridesmaids in the raucous fun of doing a belly button shot off the stripers rock hard abs. Or at least licking up the shot's worth of alcohol that they poured out over his abs as he lay on the erected stage wearing nothing but a strategically placed fireman's helmet that lifted off and tilted just enough to show the base of his erect pole.
The latecomer stumbled forward as she was finally let through to take her turn, dumped the shot on him, and dove down to lick it up with the cheers from her fellow bridesmaids whooping and hollering behind her. It was only when she finished that she looked up to see his face, which had momentarily looked down to see who the newcomer was. The sister of the bride. His actual boss: Beth.
"ARTHUR?" The shout temporarily pierced even the loud music coming off the stage.
Arthur chuckled nervously and, for a fleeting moment, thought about denying it. "Heh. Hey... Boss."
She flushed a crimson red so fast that she looked like she was trying to somehow transform into a firetruck. Arthur, for his part, was enjoying himself a little too much and was too entertained by her embarrassment to be embarrassed himself. He laughed and reclined again, putting his hands up behind his head. "Next!"
Beth sputtered and turned away. "Oh my god!" She yelled to no one in particular. She looked back at him on the stage and quickly turned away again, hiding her blushing face with her hand. She knew he was of age. She knew she was only a few years older than he was. Yet, he was a student, and she'd graduated. He was a supervisor, and she was a manager. His manager, to be specific. There was no reality where licking a shot of Tequila and lime off your subordinate's lower abs did not make it to HR, right?
Her blush did not fade, and she turned away, practically screaming as her mind flipped through all the possibilities of how her life might now be different. It was a roller coaster of emotion, and when she looked back at Arthur, it looked like she was on this roller coaster alone. He was relaxed, smiling, enjoying himself, as Beth's sister, the bride-to-be, snuck her hand under his not-so-cleverly-placed fireman's helmet while she licked where Beth had licked a moment ago.
"Okay, ladies. I think that's it for this bottle." Arthur announced, mercifully cutting the bride-to-be off as she kept licking, as though she were searching for Tequila that she must have licked up five or six licks ago. There was a general "Aw" from the crowd, but he assured them he would be back for another dance in a moment. He just had to change costumes. This was met with a drunken cheer of approval that may have easily been confused with the sounds of several distorted seagulls.
Arthur bowed, keeping the helmet in place, and made his exit, baring his ass to a general cheer of women as Beth failed to look away.
She gave it a moment's thought and then stormed toward the back. She had the decency to knock but pushed into the one-stall bathroom anyway. The rules of etiquette shouldn't have to apply when walking in on someone you've already seen naked when you know they're getting dressed.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Beth hissed.
"Uh..." Arthur paused for a moment and then had to think about it. "Inspecting this fire alarm?" He joked.
Beth didn't laugh.
"Look, they needed a dancer. I happened to be there. I-" He paused for a second, still trying to work out exactly how this happened in his head. "I decided why the fuck not? I need something to cheer me up. So, here I am."
"So you're not, like, a legit stripper. You're just a guy they roped into this at the bar?" Beth asked, both confused and accusatory, as though he were trying to pull a scam or get away with something he shouldn't.
"Well, tonight's the first time I've done it for money, but after two routines that I may have borrowed from actual musical numbers and four lap dances in nothing but a very uncomfortable thong with a little tuxedo on the front of it - I can say that I am a legit stripper. I'll update my file at the office if you like." Arthur smiled.
"This is not funny!" Beth hissed. "We could get in a lot of trouble for this?"
Arthur paused as if she'd said something that made no sense. "Uh... we can?" He asked.
"Yes!" Beth hissed. "You're not supposed to be a uh... uh...." She gestured to the costume he was half wearing and did her best to keep her eyes on his face.
"Policeman?" He asked.
"Stripper!" She yelled. "You're my employee, not a gigolo!"
"Hey." Arthur said sternly. "I'm not a gigolo. I'm just dancing and showing a bride-to-be a good time. You're the one who is spending an awful amount of time alone with the stripper in the bathroom during the bachelorette party."
Beth's eyes went wide as she realized what he was suggesting.
"And there's nothing saying we can't have part-time jobs outside the office or anything like that." He added.
"Well, I'm pretty sure that licking tequila off your employee's abs is explicitly not allowed in the employee handbook." Beth stomped her foot.
Arthur laughed. "If you can find an exact reference to that scenario in the employee handbook, I will sign an official apology, apologizing for letting you lick tequila off my abs. But, honestly, I don't think HR thought to cover that specific scenario. I think we're fine. We can't get into a sexual or romantic relationship, obviously, since you're my direct superior, but so long as you didn't come in here to do that-"
"I didn't!"
"Then we're fine!" Arthur assured her.
Beth frowned but had to admit that he might be right.
"I promised them one more routine, then I'll go, and we will never speak of this again. Deal?" Arthur asked.
"Deal." Beth shook her head and left without shaking Arthur's offered hand. It was probably best, as that left him holding the tear-away pants with only one hand.
Beth stepped out of the bathroom and into the hallway, where one party-goer was ducking into the lady's room. She gave Beth a conspiratorial wink as they passed one another. "Hot, right?" She asked. "Is he still in there?"
"Yes." Beth answered. "I mean no!" She flustered. "I mean, I don't know! Yes. He's still in there!"
"Did you two..." The other woman moved her hand as if brushing her teeth.
"No!" Beth slapped at her arm.
"Oh." The other woman looked disappointed, then sighed. "Gay, huh? How disappointing."
"You-" Beth fumed. "I-" She changed her mind. "He-"
"He's so cute." The other woman went on. "He looks young too." She winked. "I hope he's legal!"
"He's twenty-two!" Beth volunteered.
"Woo!" The other woman cheered. "Shame he's gay." She shrugged and went into the lady's room.
Beth smacked her forehead so hard with the palm of her hand that she actually hurt herself in her confusion.
Arthur stepped out of the men's bathroom dressed like a cross between a crossing guard, a security guard, and a police officer. It probably didn't matter. It was too small for him. The costume material was so thin anyway, and Beth could hardly help but think how easily his muscles could tear it if they flexed in just the right, or wrong, way. Were those handcuffs on his hip? She looked up, spun away from him, and disappeared to the bar where she ordered the most enormous, hardest drink she could afford.