I laughed at him. “I’ll need far more than this if you’re going to try and fuck me, Mike.”
I tried not to be offended when he made a face at that because I knew I was a pretty spectacular lay. I had many references that I could provide to support this, and none of them ever complained, not even if they had to go to brunch and eat all my bacon. “I think we both know I’m not your type,” Mike said.
“That’s pretty much true,” I said. “Though, if I had a power kink, you’d be the first I’d go to.”
He snorted. “Take a drink, princess.”
I did, only because I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what was about to be said. The Jack burned on its way down and I shuddered against it. It hit my stomach and blossomed into something warm.
“One more,” he said.
“You better not have roofied this,” I told him. “I don’t want to be involved in your old-men sex ring.”
“Not that you’ll be awake to even notice,” he said with an oily smile.
“Gross.” I took another drink before capping the bottle and sliding it back over to him. The Jack went back into the drawer and he sat back in his chair.
“Good?” he asked.
“As good as I can possibly be given how vague you’re being.”
And then he said the stupidest thing I’d ever heard in my life. “I need you to seduce Darren Mayne.”
Because.
What.
“I’m sorry,” I said, Helena roaring forward with an answering smile that was all teeth. “I think I need you to repeat that because I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“Darren Mayne.”
“What about Darren Mayne?”
“I need you,” he said slowly, “to seduce him.”
“Mike.”
“Helena.” Because he knew who he was dealing with now.
I tapped my fingers on his desk, fingernails clicking a distinct pattern. “What,” I said, “the fuck.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I know there’s no love lost between the two of you—”
“Understatement,” I snapped.
“—but I’m being backed into a corner here. I don’t have much else of a choice and I don’t know what else to do.”
“About what?”
“I’m going to lose the club.”
That… was not what I was expecting to hear.
“What? How?”
“The fucking revitalization project the city council is pushing at the behest of our glorious leader, Andrew Taylor. They’re deciding whether or not Jack It fits into the family-friendly front they want to portray to bump tourism.”
“You have a contract,” I said. “With the city. They can’t renege on that. You could bring a lawsuit against them if they tried.”
“That’s the fun part about contracts, princess,” Mike said. “Sometimes they expire. There are negotiations that take place where new demands are made and people get jacked trying to run their business.”
“Why wouldn’t they renew the contract?” I asked. “You’ve had it for years. And before you bought Jack It, this bar was still a gay bar. That’s not anything new.”
“I know,” he said. “But it doesn’t have shit to do with contract negotiations. It’s the revitalization project as a cover for a religious freedom bill.”
I blinked at him. “But that was shot down a couple of years ago. Jan Brewer vetoed it when it got to her desk. Signing it would have been career suicide. Look what happened with the governor from Indiana last year. I thought he was going to be tarred and feathered.” And maybe he should have been. I thought it was cute how quickly he backtracked when he realized the entire world could see what a douchenozzle he was.
“The fact remains we live in a red state,” Mike said. “And that Arizona is fucking backward when it comes to everything else. We broadcast a ‘fuck you’ mentality to the rest of the country. Arizona borders Mexico, and yet we don’t seem to like Mexicans very much, do we? That sheriff up in Maricopa County, Joe Arpaio, is as fascist as they come, and yet he gets elected over and over and over again. Do you know how many times he’s been sued because of discrimination? And he’s won. And Brewer is on her way out. Her successor will probably be Republican again. Taylor got reelected last year. There are already rumors that his people are preparing another version of the religious freedom bill to attempt to get it into law. Couple that with the SCOTUS ruling to legalize gay marriage, and those Tea Party fucks have to start getting their revenge somewhere.”
“What does that have to do with us?” I asked. “Or the bar? It’s not like we’d ever turn anyone away because they were gay or straight. That’s not how business works. Business is about providing services or goods in exchange for compensation. Fuck anyone that discriminates. They’re the ones losing money, not us.”
“That’s where the Renew Tucson project comes into play.” He turned his computer around, showing me a spreadsheet. “Look, the bar clears $40,000 per month if I’m lucky, more in the fall when the college kids come back and in the summer when there’s the Pride events. With that, there are the overhead costs, the operating costs, the upkeep, taxes, talent, employees, liquor, food. Everything chips away at that until we’re barely in the black. This used to be about coming out, having fun, getting shitfaced, and maybe hooking up. But now there’s Grindr and Tinder and whatever else come-fuck-me apps someone can think of. Attendance is down. It’s why we started a cover charge at the door last spring.”
“I still don’t see what this has to do with me. Or Darren. Or the whole seducing thing.”
“It’s a Hail Mary.” He spread his hands. “My last, wild chance.”
“And it’s dependent on me seducing the Homo Jock King,” I said. “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. The fact that you would even ask me such a thing is borderline reprehensible. And that’s without mentioning it makes no fucking sense. Because, Mike? It makes no fucking sense.”
“Darren’s father is Andrew Taylor.”
“Well fuck,” I said succinctly. Because that was supposed to be a secret. “And you know this how?”
He shrugged. “People talk. I listen. You know how it goes.”
“I still don’t see what that has to do with me.”
“I’m still going to be fighting this legally,” he said. “We’re going to do everything we can to try and get the contract renewed. But Darren is connected to the mayor and I know he’s the one pushing this.”
“Uh, flaw, buddy. He doesn’t know Darren’s gay. And as far as I know, Darren doesn’t even really speak to him. Or work for him. Which means Taylor won’t give a shit about what Darren thinks.”
“Semantics,” Mike said with a wave of his hand. “Darren’s an actuary for the city. His boss is friends with Taylor. There’s no nepotism there, at least none that I could see, but Darren has a direct line to his father even if he doesn’t really use it.”
“Why me?” I asked, feeling slightly ill. “Why not Vince?”
“Vince can’t really seduce Darren, now can he?” Well, he could since I’d dreamt about it, but Mike didn’t need to know that. “And there’s the simple fact that Vince wants nothing to do with Taylor.”
“And Darren does?”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that for all the shit he’s talked about his dad, he still works for him? Maybe not him directly, but still. There are plenty of financial firms in Tucson that would salivate over him. Insurance companies, healthcare companies. And yet he still works for the county. You know what that says to me, princess?”
“Not a clue, but you’re going to tell me, aren’t you.”
Mike leaned forward on his desk. “It tells me that Darren still cares about what Daddy thinks about him. That he’s still searching for some kind of approval.”
“That’s reaching, even for you,” I said. “Psychoanalyzing was never your strong suit, Mike. You don’t even know him.”
“And you do, don’t you?”
br /> No, I didn’t. For the most part. I knew of him. I knew about him. I knew the type of person he was. But that didn’t mean I knew him. But here I was sounding like I was defending him to Mike. I needed to back this shit right the fuck up before it spiraled out of control. “Everything I know about Darren Mayne does nothing to endear him to me,” I said.
He cocked his head at me. “Why do you hate him so much? It can’t be that bad.”
“Let me tell you why,” I said. “Seven years ago, there was a cocky little drag queen who saw a homo jock and was slightly smitten. This cocky little drag queen thought that this homo jock was just her type and she wanted to have him. Maybe for fucking. Maybe to keep. So she flirted with him and he smiled at her and she thought maybe good things could happen. He’d told her she was beautiful. She told him he was too. He’d laughed and the sound alone had made the little drag queen’s heart beat faster. And since she wasn’t always a little drag queen, she tried to talk to him when she was the little boy instead. Because surely if he could accept the side of the queen, he’d be okay with the boy too, right?”
I had been happy. Nervous. It’d been a long time since I’d been that enamored by someone. He was new and exciting and maybe he just wanted to fuck, but I was okay with that. I told myself that was just fine. I could work with that. And maybe I could convince him of more. So I took Helena off and was just Sandy, just plain Sandy. And I went back downstairs and he was there with his friends, those nameless and cookie-cutter homo jocks.
“Hey,” I’d said. “Hi, Darren.”
And the look of such derision I’d been given almost caused me to take a step back. But I thought maybe there was a mistake since he’d smiled at me before. And so I’d tried to talk to him, tried to act like I could be someone he could see (because he had seen me, he had smiled at me and acted like I was something).
But his friends had laughed and he had laughed at me and there was a bit of a sneer on his face when he’d asked if I’d needed something because why else would I even be approaching him?
“Trust me,” he’d said, “you have absolutely nothing that I want. I don’t know if you’re someone anyone would want.”
I hated the fucking Homo Jock King.
“And maybe it’s petty,” I said to Mike, “and maybe I should just forgive or, at the very least, forget, but I still remember the shit I got being a skinny little faggot in high school, that queer who liked to wear makeup who swished his hips too much when he walked. Whose locker got vandalized with homophobic slurs. Who had people walk all over him and look at him like he was nothing but trash. So I know a bully when I see one, okay? Some people grow up and change. Some don’t. The Darren Maynes of the world don’t. He goes through his little twinks and spits them out like they’re nothing, all the while showing everyone else he’s better than them.”
Mike was quiet for a while, letting me get my breathing back under control. I tried not to think about Darren from all those years before, even if it colored my perception of him as to who he was now. Maybe he’d grown up and become a different person. Or maybe he was still a bag of assholes. It was obvious which seemed more likely.
Mike said, “And yet he’s here, isn’t he? For every single show you’ve done. He hasn’t missed one, not really. Not even Paul can say that.”
“That’s not—” And I had to stop myself because it was true. Maybe my memory was a little bit fuzzy and maybe I couldn’t really think clearly, but I couldn’t remember a time when Darren wasn’t at my show. Wednesdays and Saturdays. He was always there. Without fail. Either by himself slinking off in the shadows or surrounded by the homo jocks, their T-shirts tight and their grins cocky. “That doesn’t mean anything,” I said finally. Because it didn’t.
“Sure it doesn’t, princess,” he said. “But just think, this is the perfect opportunity for you to get revenge against the Homo Jock King. You seduce him. Get him to talk this place up to those who have the ear of his father. Best-case scenario, we get to keep the bar open and you get to see the look on his face when you break up with him. Worst case, you get laid and this place still closes.”
“That’s fucked up,” I said flatly. I might have disliked Darren, but I didn’t know if even I was that big of an asshole.
And then Mike said, “Think of Vaguyna, princess. She would have done everything she possibly could have to keep this place open. Think about what would have happened to you had she not taken you under her wing. Think about whatever other little gay boy is out there that wants to sneak in here with a shitty fake ID just so he can be around people like him, people that will accept him.”
“That’s low,” I said. “You can’t just….” But he could. Because it was the truth. Without this place, I wouldn’t be who I was today. Helena was a part of me, and the only reason she was anything was because Vaguyna had let me in. Tucson was big, just under a million people, but aside from Jack It, there was a lesbian bar on the other side of town and a couple of hole-in-the-wall places that were extremely low-key. Nothing like Jack It unless it was the straight bars, the college bars where frat boys drank beer and women wore short skirts. At least here, women could throw back the beer while the men wore the skirts. “So basically, you want me to fuck my mortal enemy and convince him to convince his father to somehow keep this bar open by telling me to think of the children?”
“That about sums it up.”
“Well fuck me sideways,” I said, suitably impressed. “That’s devious. I feel tingly in between my thighs.”
Mike looked very tired. “I got nothing left. I don’t know if the lawyers will be able to do anything. Sure, maybe we can try to hold some kind of protest. But aside from having verifiable proof that the contract won’t be renewed because this is a gay bar, then it will just seem as if a small business is being evicted. And it’s not as if we haven’t been cited before. Nudity, drugs, sex. Shit happens here. How many times have the police been called? It’s gotten better, but we’ve been hanging by the skin of our teeth for a long while. I know that. But they shouldn’t be able to take this away from me. From either of us. It’s not fair.”
“And you think Darren Mayne will be able to change that,” I said dubiously. “Darren, whose own father doesn’t know shit about him. Darren Mayne, who doesn’t give a shit about this place.”
“I think you’re underestimating certain feelings, princess.”
“And I think you’re severely overestimating my prowess,” I said. “This isn’t some fucking romantic comedy. Life doesn’t work the way you’re thinking it does. He’s a fucking tool, but Darren is smart. He’s going to see right through me.”
“I guess you’re just going to have to sell it, aren’t you?” Mike asked.
“Jesus. Why don’t you do it, if you want it so much?”
“Ah, princess. I’m glad you feel that I could woo him in such a way.”
I made a face. “That’s not what I was saying at all. Why does this have to be about sex? Why can’t you just ask him?”
“Because he doesn’t owe me shit. Why would he do anything for me?”
“Exactly,” I said. “And why would he do anything for me? We don’t like each other. We never have, and we never will. Give me one good reason why I should even consider entertaining something so ridiculous.”
“Because this place is as much yours as it is mine,” Mike said. “Your name isn’t on any of the paperwork, but you belong here just as much as I do.”
“Not good enough,” I said.
“Think of the children.”
“Fuck the children. Fuck them right in their little faces.”
“If you don’t, I’ll make sure you never find work as a queen ever again.”
I laughed at him. “You think you can threaten me? Mike, I will crush you, you insignificant little bitch. Don’t make me cut you.”
“I’ll completely fund your campaign for Miss Gay America next year.”
“Done.” I didn’t hesitate. “Write it up in a contract. A
nd I mean everything. Airfare, hotels, costumes, music rights, everything. And this happens with or without Jack It staying open. Get your people to send it to my people to review and you better not fuck me on this, Mike, or you’ll regret it.” So I was selling my soul a little bit, but it was the Miss Gay America pageant. I would have sold Paul to get the finances for it. (I would have felt bad, sure, but Paul would have understood.)
Mike sighed. “You don’t have people.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“And everything everything? I don’t know that I can afford—”
I snorted. “Bullshit, Mike. You own three clubs, two restaurants, an Arby’s—which, by the way, that’s disgusting and you should feel ashamed of yourself—and somehow, a Mexican baseball team called Los Gatos Locos, which translates to the Crazy Cats for reasons I don’t quite understand, but don’t really care to know. You can afford it. And even if you couldn’t, you’re asking me to seduce Darren Mayne. Go sell your ass for some green. I’m sure there are some johns out there who like middle-age desperation with a side of skeevy.”
“You wound me, princess,” he said, slightly mocking.
“Not yet I haven’t,” I purred, flashing teeth. “But fuck with me on this and I definitely will. You’ll find out what it feels like to have your balls skewered by eight-inch stilettos.”
“I quake in fear at such a thought. I know this is ridiculous, princess. It’s underhanded and firmly planted in a morally gray area. But I would do anything for this place. If that means doing something that others might consider reprehensible, then so be it. Everyone knows Taylor is a betting man. He likes to make wagers. Got him into a lot of trouble years ago. But I’m a betting man too, and I would put all my money on you, princess.”
“It better be all your money,” I said. “Because I have very expensive tastes.”
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“No more than I.” And I probably would. There was really no way this wouldn’t end in tears, but I was completely blinded by being introduced as Helena Handbasket, the new Miss Gay America.