Ashton squeezed my shoulder. “Did you forget Toni was with Rosie tonight?” he asked, rolling his eyes. I nodded in response. If I had remembered that, I definitely wouldn’t have called her; Rosie sussed me too easily. “That was a good one, though; I bet that would have worked if she wasn’t there.”
I nodded in agreement. She definitely had no clue it was me. Damn my fiancée for knowing me too well! I gripped the glass in my only free hand and mentally counted to three, trying to psych myself up to drinking it. On three, I swallowed the contents as quickly as I could. I heaved as it slid down my throat, putting my other hand up to cover my mouth, but then heaving again when the dildo poked me up the nose.
“My turn!” Ashton chirped. He took the phone and grinned. “I’m calling my father-in-law,” he announced, tapping in the number.
There were collective gasps from the group. Ashton’s father-in-law was the President of the United States. Not really someone you should be prank calling, but then again, he adored Ashton so if he found him out then he would probably laugh it off anyway. I had no idea how he was going to get hold of him at this time of night, but then again he probably had a private number for him.
“Good evening, sir,” Ashton sang in an extremely camp voice. “I’m calling in response to your email we received today. Sorry to call you so late in the day but I really needed to clarify a couple of details with you. Your request was very specific, and it’s going to take me a good few hours to arrange what you wanted.”
I looked at him curiously, wondering what on earth he was up to.
“Well, I got your number from the email you sent us, sir. This is the user LadiesLoveOral?” Ashton continued, not giving him a chance to reply. “Well, like I was saying, we received your email about the male escort you wanted. You say you want a blond man of Chinese origin, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five. Well I can certainly arrange that for you, but the one blue eye and one brown thing really has us stumped. Would you be disappointed with the escort wearing coloured contacts? You can get some very real-looking ones nowadays.”
I was in hysterics just imagining President Spencer listening to this. Ashton was probably going to get in some deep shit for this.
“What do you mean I have the wrong number? This was the number provided on the email. Sir? Hello, are you there?” Ashton said. He pulled the phone away from his ear and laughed. “He hung up on me. How long do I have left?”
“About twenty seconds,” Seth announced, laughing and looking at his watch.
Ashton dialled again, putting the phone to his ear. “I’m so sorry, sir. The cleaners are in the building, and I think one of them must have knocked out the power cord with the vacuum,” he said. I could see he was struggling to stop himself from laughing as he listened to the response. I would imagine President Spencer couldn’t exactly just tell a stranger down the line who he was; after all, he didn’t want a guy who ran an escort company to have his private phone number.
“Hmm, well, that is strange. I have your number here clear as day. Your order for the escort was requested to attend a high-class function with you next Thursday. Are you sure maybe someone there didn’t request him? Maybe your wife or girlfriend was using your email and credit card? Our fee of $2,000 has already been paid in full so maybe she was ordering our services on your behalf?” Ashton suggested. He choked on his laughter as he shook his head. “No, sir. I’m not suggesting your wife has a fetish for Chinese men.”
Seth tapped his watch, signalling his time was up, and Ashton pumped the air in celebration.
“Oh, my goodness. I’ve misdialled! That should be a four, not a one. Oh, dear, I have fat fingers. I’m sorry to bother you, have a pleasant evening.” He disconnected the call and did a little victory dance on the spot.
“Oh, that was freaking awesome!” I chirped, shaking my head in awe. The only thing that would have made it better was seeing the President’s face when he was on the call.
Ashton did a little bow before holding the phone out to my dad. “Evan, up for a little prank?”
My dad nodded and took the phone, seeming ridiculously eager. I watched the keypad as he dialled; it looked like my Aunt Lucy’s number. He was laughing already. There was no way he was going to pull this off; he had no poker face at all. “Pizza Italiano, may I taker your order?” he asked in a heavy Italian accent, closing his eyes and trying not to laugh down the phone. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you just call me. Can I taker your order?” he asked, adding in wrong words for emphasis. “I not call you. I just pick up the phone and you were there. Did you want I make you a pizza or not?”
I shook my head. This one was an old one, but a good one; he would never make it last a minute though; this was a rookie mistake.
She hung up on him, so he dialled her again. “Pizza Italiano, can I taker your order?” he repeated when she answered the phone. “It’s you again? Look, I have very busy restaurant. I can’t be dealing with time-wasters. Did you want to place order for pizza or not?” he snapped, grinning like an idiot. Aunt Lucy was a little fiery at times, I would imagine she was letting rip on the phone because he was covering the mouth piece, laughing.
She obviously hung up on him after her rant, so he dialled her again. “Pizza Italiano.” He gasped dramatically. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but if this is some kind of joke, then it’s not funny. I have a business to run, so if you keep calling and wasting my time then I’m going to contact the police!” His Italian accent slipped so he sounded just like himself. He immediately slapped his forehead and groaned. “Yeah, sorry, Lucy. I know, I know, I should be leading by example and whatnot. Hey, don’t blame me, I’m not the reason he turned out the way he did!” he protested, punching me on the arm. “Yeah, I’ll tell him. See you tomorrow at the wedding,” he added. He turned to me and rolled his eyes. “She got me. Pass me the drink,” he groaned.
I patted his shoulder and smiled sympathetically. “Don’t take it to heart, old man. I called her last week when I went out with Ashton,” I said, chuckling darkly.
He groaned and downed the glass of the vile green drink before visibly shuddering. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked at his empty glass. “Actually, it’s not that bad. I might make your mother one of those one day. She likes cocktails. They make her a little dirty,” he stated, nodding appreciatively and winking at Seth, who held up his hand for a high-five while both Ashton and I just looked at him in disgust.
After everyone had a turn with a call, the fish bowl was empty, so we made our way to another bar that was next door. The end was in sight now; I could see the minibus, it was at the end of the road waiting for us. I had probably three more bars and then I could get the god-awful pink sex toy removed from my hand at the ER. Maybe then, people would stop staring at me like some sort of pervert gone wild.
Everyone at the ER was very amused with my situation. Nurses and doctors filed into my room one after the other, claiming they were just picking up something, like a chart or a spare bandage or something. In reality, news had probably travelled quickly about the prick dressed as Zorro who had accidentally super-glued a flashing pink vibrator to his hand.
One nurse, a grey-haired, stern-faced looking woman, actually clicked her tongue at me and muttered something that sounded very much like, “disgraceful and you should be ashamed of yourself,” as she left the room.
I was in there for probably less than twenty minutes; of course, we were bumped to the front of the line when people saw I was with Ashton, a guy famous in his own right for being part of ‘Annaton’, celebrity couple, and the President’s son-in-law. For the speedy visit, I was very grateful.
I wasn’t as grateful, however, for the fact that my friends wouldn’t let the doctor remove it without me posing for a photo with him. Apparently, it was for blackmailing situations in the future. Seth actually told me that if I didn’t let him bang my little sister, he would print up posters of it and deliver them to my boys I worked with. To be honest,
though, it was an empty threat considering that Russell, aka the Luke Skywalker impersonator tonight, was out with us and had already snapped his own photo, which I was sure, would be passed around at work anyway. I was fully expecting to get back from my honeymoon to find mugs, posters, plates and whatever else he could get printed up with my face and a pink ladies toy displayed on it.
Finally, we were done, so we went to get on with the binge-drinking tour. All of us were singing as we walked down the street. George was whining that he wanted to dance and wanted to hit a club already, but everyone else protested it was too early for that. Instead, we headed into a sports bar that was not too far away from the hospital.
As we walked, I flicked my eyes around and frowned. It was Friday night, it should have been busy; instead, I only saw the barman and two other people in there. They were standing up at the bar talking. If it wasn’t for them, then I would have thought the place was closed for business. It was a crappy place, dirty, old and dark. I wasn’t actually too surprised people chose to spend their money elsewhere.
The boys all headed in ahead of us. Ashton and I were bringing up the rear, laughing at some joke I’d just told him about a unicorn and an angel that got trapped in an elevator. Suddenly, fingers bit into my arm making me wince despite the alcohol that I had sloshing through my system.
“We need to leave!” Ashton hissed in my ear.
Leave? What on earth for? We’ve only just walked through the door! I turned back to look at him; his eyes were wide and his jaw tight. He was looking off to my right, his fingers still digging into my forearm. “Dude, what’s up with you?” I asked, flicking my eyes in the direction he was looking. Immediately, I spotted what was wrong with him. There was a tall brunette girl standing over at the bar, laughing with her friend. I recognised her immediately. It was the girl from Long Beach – the one who we had our doubts of sexuality over and vowed never to talk about. Ashton’s little brush with the other side when we were eighteen and drunk. I burst out laughing, and his grip tightened on me.
“We need to leave, right now!” he growled, shaking his head and forcibly trying to drag me towards the door.
“This is freaking priceless. Oh, shit, this just made my night,” I choked out around my laughs. He’d made out with this girl years ago, but it was only after that we’d doubted whether she was actually a she or not. I flicked my eyes over the ‘girl’ again; I’d forgotten how freakishly tall she was. Obviously, there were a couple of ways we could tell for sure. One way was to check to see if she had an Adam’s apple. The trouble was she had one of those fashion scarves wrapped around her neck, so that idea was out of the window. The other way to tell, well, let’s just say I didn’t like my friend enough to check that way for him. I guess ‘she’ would always remain a mystery.
Seth frowned and looked at us both like we’d gone crazy. “Where the hell are you two going?”
Ashton gulped, his face pale and nervous. “I think we should go somewhere else; this place looks a little seedy,” he replied, shrugging, probably trying for casual but failing miserably.
“Seedy? What the fuck is up with you bitches? Seedy is the best,” Seth countered, rolling his eyes. “Nate, come on. First round of shooters are on me,” he chirped, rubbing his hands together excitedly and nodding towards the bar. To help my best friend out, I was just about to suggest we go somewhere else, when Seth raised one eyebrow at the girl we were running away from. “Brunette hottie at the bar is mine!” he called, putting one hand in the air to call dibs on her.
My mouth dropped open in shock, and I flicked my eyes to Ashton, seeing he looked just as stunned as I felt. “We are definitely staying,” Ashton said, nodding excitedly as he slung his arm around my shoulder. I burst out laughing again as Seth straightened his shirt and headed over to make his move.
I was going to die any second. My lungs were going into seizures; I couldn’t get enough air. I was laughing so hard I was actually choking on it. Seth, one of my best friends in the world, was throwing up. We were outside the sports bar now; he was throwing up over and over, rubbing his tongue with napkins and shaking his head. Between bouts of vomit, he was mumbling something incoherent about kissing a dude. Mumbling about how, in the bathrooms of the bar, his hand had found something he wasn’t expecting when he pushed it up the girl’s skirt. It was clear that our suspicions about the girl from Long Beach were correct, and she was, in fact, a he instead.
Ashton was off somewhere else, also mumbling incoherently, but no one knew why. Only he and I knew he’d had his own brush with this girl – well, man. I would never tell; he’d made me promise seven years ago, and as a loyal best friend, I would take that information to the grave with me. Seth, however, had practically run out of the bathroom, buttoning up his jeans while gagging and running for the door. It was clear what had happened; well, to Ashton and me it was, anyway. This was the best bachelor party I had ever been to, and I would have ammunition over Seth for years to come now.
I bent down and passed him another napkin as he struggled to catch his breath. “Aww, don’t worry about it, man. It’s happened to the best of us,” I teased, winking at him as he shot me a death glare.
“I just felt up a dude!” he whined, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
I laughed some more at that statement and slapped him on the back. “You feel up a dude all the time in the shower, I bet,” I joked, nodding down to his crotch. “Really, when you think about it, it’s no different.” I burst out laughing at his disgruntled expression. Clearly, that hadn’t helped in the slightest. “Come on, more alcohol will help,” I suggested, motioning with my head for us to go and re-join our group who was standing around chatting in the street, waiting for us.
As we approached, Wayne looked at Seth curiously. “You all right, buddy?” he asked.
Seth nodded uncomfortably, flicking his eyes to me, silently pleading with me not to say anything. I grinned wickedly and threw my arm around his shoulder. “Seth just ate something he shouldn’t have,” I joked. Seth groaned at the double meaning in my words.
Wayne looked at him and smiled sympathetically. “It was the fish bowl; made me feel sick for a while, too.”
I grinned at Seth and nodded in agreement. “Definitely the fish bowl,” I teased, winking at him, making him groan and close his eyes.
The next bar was much better. Music played lightly in the background and re-runs of last weekend’s football games were playing on the big screen. Unlike the last bar, this one was crammed full of people. Luckily, we managed to get a table at the back, so we’d been sitting around drinking and laughing for the last hour and a half. My dad was swaying on his feet and shouting instead of talking when he got up to purchase the next round of drinks.
I smiled wickedly when I spotted that he’d left his cell phone on the table. This was too good of an opportunity to miss. I laughed as I grabbed mine out of my pocket, quickly opening my music and finding the song I wanted. It was an older song, but it was perfect for this job. I blue-toothed it over to his phone and then set it as his ringtone, turning the volume as loud as it would go. Then I put his phone on the table, pretending nothing had happened just as he came back with a tray full of drinks. He grinned and slid the phone back into his pocket. I waited a little while before calling him.
Kelis’ ‘Milkshake’ started blasting in his pocket. The conversation stopped around us as everyone turned to look at him curiously. I bit my tongue and tried not to laugh as my dad just looked around oblivious, not having a clue it was his cell phone ringing.
“Evan, seriously? ‘My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard’?” Ashton choked out, shaking his head. My dad just frowned in response and looked over his shoulder as if searching for where the offending song was coming from.
I choked on my laughter and quickly turned it into a cough as all the boys started verbally abusing him for having that song as his ringtone. My dad shook his head, looking confused as he slid his hand into his pocket, pulli
ng out his ringing phone. His eye flicked to me, an accusing look on his face as he thrust his phone at me. “Change it back, Nate. You know your mother can’t stand Kelis,” he stated.
I laughed harder as took the phone. “I love how you assume it was me straight away,” I said, rolling my eyes jokingly.
“It was either you, Tweedledee, or him, Tweedledum,” he replied, nodding at Ashton with a fond smile.
Ashton shot him a mock-offended look. “How come I have to be the dumb one? Your son’s the blond!” he protested, laughing as he ruffled my hair.
My dad laughed and ran a hand through his own blond hair. “Don’t knock blonds,” he scolded, winking at Ashton.
I fiddled with the phone, pretending to change it back, knowing he wouldn’t know how to do it himself. My dad was a great guy, but technology wasn’t his strong point. I shook my head, frowning, pretending to be confused. “I can’t seem to change it,” I lied, holding the phone to Ashton. “You ever seen a menu like that? It’s not giving me the option to remove the song.”
He smiled, catching on immediately as usual. Sometimes we were almost like one person because we always seemed to know what the other was talking about, and most of the time could even finish off each other’s sentences. He flicked through the phone, too, before shaking his head. “I can’t do it either,” he agreed, shrugging.
My dad’s eyes widened in horror. My mom seriously hated Kelis; she disliked both her voice and her songs. She would probably smash his phone if it started ringing with that on there. I made a mental note to ring him tomorrow night when they would be asleep. That would be awesome if my mom was woken by that blasting in her ear. Actually, tomorrow was my wedding night; I’d have to have Ashton call my dad for me instead. I was planning on being busy all night long tomorrow consummating my marriage. I sighed happily at the thought; I couldn’t freaking wait for the consummating to start.
“Oh, God, you have to get it off!” my dad cried, wincing. “If your mother hears that, I won’t get any for a month!” he complained.
Ashton and I both groaned at the thought, and I pushed the phone across the table to him again. There was no way I was taking it off there now. Let him go without for a month because parents shouldn’t be doing that kind of thing anyway, it was nasty!
“You’re a sick, sick man,” I scolded, shaking my head and downing my drink as an image of what I had once caught them doing started to flood my brain. I shuddered, and my dad just started to laugh, and laugh and laugh. I made a mental note to make ALL of my friends call him one at a time tomorrow night.
We stayed in the bar for another hour. By then it was half-past eleven, so we decided to head for a club. George was whining and whining that he wanted to dance, so, just to shut him up, we were going to find somewhere to do that. I just thanked my lucky stars that they seemed to know I wouldn’t want to go to a strip club tonight. No one had even mentioned it, probably because I’d made it crystal clear to them in the run-up to tonight that the only one I wanted to see shake her little ass was my future hottie wife. No one would match up to her anyway, so why even bother looking?
As we left the bar, for some reason they were all exchanging little smiles and nods. Someone passed one of the duffle bags to George, who snorted a laugh and covered it quickly with a cough. I flicked my eyes to Ashton, wondering what was going on. My best guess would be that I was going to have to wear something even more embarrassing than a Zorro outfit. I was waiting for the pink tutu