The Bastard Takes a Wife (8 page)

“And you still can’t get a shag. Ha, ha, ha,
ha. Oh my God, you girls are so sad. I mean look at you. Sasha and
Kirby were both cheated on, Millie’s marrying the club bike because
it’s the only ride she’ll ever get and you’re a bitter old maid.
Even Johnny won’t root you.”

Invisible steam spouted from Mel’s ears.
Attempting to rein her temper in, she put her glass to her lips and
almost bit it in two. “You obnoxious piece of trash.”

Kirby stepped between them. Her manicured
hands made stop signs in front of their faces. Pink fluff made a
mist in the air. “Girls. Girls! Please! Can we, like, act like
ladies for one night? You don’t want me to call security do
you?”

Where had that come from? Kirby was usually
the one twisting the knife, not stepping in to be a mediator.
Courtney had insulted her, too.

“Look,” Kirby said, after she’d pushed them
apart. “We’ve come here to, like, have a nice evening and a few
drinks. How will we get money out of the VIP guests if you two are
like behaving like total infants in the corner? It’s, like, trés
embarrassing. Not just for the club but for me.”

“Why should I care?” Courtney spat. “You
embarrass me all the time.”

“Because I’m the organiser of this event and
you could, like, see yourself banned in future. So shut up and,
like, stay away from us or I’ll get Tank to eject you.”

For some reason, that-slut-Courtney slunk
back into her box. Every time I looked over at her during the
evening, she was seething in our direction but she never came
back.

“Wow, Kirbs, way to go.” Sasha gave Kirby a
high five with her champagne glass. “When did you become so
assertive?”

Kirby waved her pink fluffed sleeve. “Oh, I
was, like, tired of being a doormat. Ryan treated me so bad. So I,
totally, did this Adult Education course thingy over the Christmas
break. It was amazingly, like, emphasising.”

“What?”

“You know, like, makes you want to conquer
the world.”

“Oh. Empowering.”

“Yeah. That. I never thought I’d use it.
Guess I was like, totally, wrong.”

While we were trying to recover from the
shock, a bare-chested Sam appeared. “Nibbles, anyone?” he asked,
before thrusting a large sushi filled tray into the circle.
“They’re carb-free, just for you girls who like to watch your
weight.”

“What’re you doing here?” I asked. “I didn’t
know you were helping.”

“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if you’d
known, would it?” Kirby said.

“And you’ve had a spray tan.”

“Obligatory uniform requirement, apparently,”
Sam grinned.

“Hmm. I’m glad it washes off. I like you the
natural way.”

I felt a hand grasp my bum.

“And I like you every way,” Sam whispered.
“Later, Babe. I have work to do.”

*****

Unfortunately for me, Sam’s work seemed to
involve plying women with drinks and food, including me, and by the
time the special entertainment rolled out just after nine, we were
well and truly sozzled. Sasha had declared she was giving up
smoking for the forty-third time. It was the smoking that made her
unattractive to men and the reason why Simmo had done the dirty on
her with that-slut-Courtney. I tried to tell her it was just that
Simmo was an arse but she was so drunk she wouldn’t listen. All she
did was snigger and dismiss me with her hand saying, “You wouldn’t
know. Wish your liddle shparkly sandals and cute shmile you’ve
managed to snavvle the man of all men. Your Sam’s jush divine.”

I had no idea what sandals had to do with
smoking but I went with it.

On the other side of the table Mel was
promising to try not to be so crass for Lent, which I found a
complete departure, considering that I hadn’t even known she was
Catholic.

“When are you, like, starting this?” Kirby
asked. She was being very grown up and responsible.

“I don’t fucking know,” Mel replied. “When’s
Lent?”

Clearly, she wasn’t that devout. I was fairly
positive Lent had begun a week or so back. It was nearly Easter
after all.

But Alex was the surprise packet of the
evening. She had taken a bit of a shine to Womble and was following
him around the room like a lovelorn puppy. It was something to do
with his naked hairy chest reminding her of Greek men. I don’t
think Womble minded. Female attention was rare to nonexistent in
his world and Alex was looking rather hot since she’d given up
eating and taken up exercising. It hadn’t even diminished her cup
size.

“He’s just
sooo
cute. Like a big teddy
bear,” she slurred at me, after sitting back down.

Cute isn’t the word I would have used to
describe Womble’s hairy pudgy body but I guessed it was each to
their own.

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

Mel began to cough uncontrollably. “It’s
Womble. Of course he doesn’t have a girlfriend. In fact, I’m
positive he’s still a virgin.” She lifted her arm, beckoning the
boy in question. “Hey, Womble! When was the last time you had sex,
hon’?”

Womble ambled in our direction. His eyes were
alight at the mention of relations with a girl. “Does doing it with
your hand count?”

Mel turned back to Alex. “Answer your
question?”

“Why?” he asked.

“No reason. But if you play your cards right
your luck could be about to change.” She gave him a wink and tipped
her head in Alex’s direction.

“Oh my God,” Alex hissed at me. “This is
worse than primary school. How em-
HIC
!-barrassing.”

Womble looked at Alex. He gave a timid smile
and sucked his tummy in. “Hi.”

“Uh, hi?”

“I’m Womble.”

“I kind of knew that. Do you have a real
name?”

“William.”

“That’s a lovely name.”

Womble scraped his foot on the floor, as if
pretending to wipe a spot of dirt off the tiles. His face had gone
decidedly pink. Then he gave Alex the most angelic smile. “Thanks.
My mum was pretty obsessed with Princess Di back in the day.”

“Oh Jesus,” cackled Mel. “This is too much.
Can someone get me another drink please? I’m going to fucking
choke.”

Ignoring her, Womble kept his eye on Alex.
“So you’re friends with Millie?”

“I’m the Maid of Honour.”

“Guess I’ll see you at the wedding then,” he
replied and with an anxious smile shuffled back to the bar.

A short time after, Kirby took her place at
the microphone. “Good evening, ladies. I trust you’re having a fun
time?”

Raucous cheers sprang up around the
tables.

“The results of the silent auction will be
announced shortly, so this is your last chance to get your bid in
for that super-dooper signed Wallabies jersey. It’d make a great
gift for your man though I, like, totally wouldn’t mind it for my
wall,” she admitted. “That Nathan Sharpe totally does it for
me.”

She gave a little cough. “But before we tell
you who the lucky winners are, I’d like to introduce the evening’s
surprise entertainment. Has anyone seen the movie called
The
Full Monty
?” ~ more raucous laughter and hooting ~ “Well,
tonight we have our own Full Monty, Hornet’s style.”

Oh dear. I hoped this didn’t mean what I
thought it meant.

“Strippers?” Sasha said, suddenly sober.

“Isn’t this a little bit 1995?” asked
Mel.

The music began and to the strains of ‘You
Can Leave Your Hat On’, six figures took their places on the now
darkened catwalk. Against the silhouette of the backdrop, muscles
flexed and relaxed. A hint of moistened skin glistened as they
prepared themselves.

“Oh my.”

Suddenly, I was feeling overcome and I don’t
think it was from the alcohol. I’d never been to a strip show
before.

“I hope they’re hot,” Alex said. “The
stripper at my cousin’s Hens’ Night was fat and old. He made you
shiver and not in a good way.”

“I hope they’re less than forty,” Sasha
replied. “The only naked men I’ve seen lately are the ones from the
geriatric ward.”

“How about we shut the fuck up and watch
then,” chided Mel. 1995 was clearly forgotten.

The music filled the room, spotlights lit up
the backs of the men, each dressed in a different workman’s type
outfit ~ builder, policeman, fireman, doctor. I could see their
palms outstretched in the light as the bodies turned to face us. It
was like the X rated version of the Village People but without the
YMCA. Every woman in the room began to go wild. Screams rang out
behind me. At the table next to us, the girls had started chanting,
“Off, off, off.”

One by one, six spotlights lit up the
dancers.

Holy shit! Sam was right in the front and
wearing what could only be described as a horrendous cowboy outfit.
Body lathered with baby oil, his hard chest was partially hidden by
two miniscule scraps of what used to be a flannelette-checked
shirt. A battered leather hat, chaps and a tiny black g-string
completed the ensemble. Two counts of eight and he’d be naked.

Oh my God.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even look. These
were not strippers. This was my fiancé and he was getting naked in
front of my friends, not to mention the hundred other women I
didn’t know. Grabbing my drink, I sloshed down the remains and put
my hands over my eyes. From between my fingers I saw him turn and
thrust and with each movement the screams of delight grew louder
around the room. My face began to burn. How could he do this to
me?

Up on the stage, the boys launched into the
next of what seemed to be a much-practiced routines of some very
ordinary dances, mixed with some hip wiggling and bottom slapping.
Through the cracks between my fingers I saw pieces of clothing fly
through the air and land in the audience. I saw oiled, waxed legs
and bulges in teeny tiny underpants. I heard someone cry, “He’s so
freakin’ hot.” Which of course, was utterly true but utterly
disgusting. How dare they call my fiancé hot? How dare they?

Inside my veins, I could feel my pulse
beginning to build. I removed my fingers from my face and took
another look and suddenly I saw what everyone else was seeing. Sam
was sex on legs. He always had been. I guess I was just used to it.
But here, with him being ogled and probably lapping up every
minute, I saw him all over again and oh God, surely I wasn’t being
turned on by this ridiculousness? But I was. In fact, I was so
turned on by the spectacle; I couldn’t take my eyes off Sam.

The gyrating and grinding only made the women
in the group who’d lusted after Sam scream louder. This in turn
made him more confident and he strutted up and down the catwalk
like he was fully clothed which of course, he wasn’t. With each
sequined piece of clothing that fell to the floor I could feel
myself getting hotter. I squirmed in my seat. I guzzled what was
left of the bottle of champagne like it was a bottle of lemonade. I
wanted to jump up on that stage and drag him out the back away from
the screaming women but I don’t know if it was to kill him or have
my way with him.

“Get it off boys,” a voice screeched from the
other side of the room that I was sure was that-slut-Courtney.

Johnny, who was semi-dressed as a fireman,
gave her a cheeky wink and proceeded to fulfill her request.

“My gosh,” Mel whispered, her face glued to
the stage, “Johnny has a rather big knob.”

“It is impressive,” Sasha agreed.

“Yes, but it’s Johnny,” I reminded them. It
was okay to ogle Sam… but Johnny? That was like perving on your
brother. “Can you not see the inappropriateness of this situation?”
I could see it. Every girl in the room could see it.

“You’re only pissy ‘cause we can see Sam’s
thing.”

“And a lovely one it is,” Alex added. The
naked men had brought her back to Earth. She was only sad that
Womble hadn’t been one of them.

“Alex!”

“Hey, you should feel grateful, you could’ve
been stuck with one like that.” She pointed to Simmo who had
disrobed too and was making his final overt bow.

“That’s my ex,” Sasha giggled.

“I can see why.”

This was too much. Here we were on a Saturday
night perving on the men we were friends with like they were pieces
of meat and one of them was my fiancé. The only person who ought to
be looking at him was me. Some of the girls at other tables had
even thrown money onto the stage. It was appalling. Though I had to
admit, they were right. My Sam was by far the hottest one out
there.

“Is there anything left in your bottle?” I
asked Mel. “I could do with another drink.”

“You just had one. Are you getting all hot
and bothered over there, Millie?”

“No. I’m just a little horrified.”

Mel passed me the bottle. “Oh don’t be such a
prude, it’s nothing worse than they do to us every Saturday night
when they feel us up.”

“Yes, but we have clothes on.”

“Just goes to show who the smarter sex are
then, doesn’t it? And you have to admit, it’s nice to have one up
on them for a change.”

“They were loving it. I hardly think they’re
going to care if we tease them.” I stood up. I picked up my clutch.
“I’m going for a wee. Back soon.”

“She’s going to find, Sam,” Alex giggled.
“She’d never admit it but she has a thing for cowboys.”

*****

Sam was in the change rooms putting his
clothes on when I found him. True to form, he was last as usual;
the others had gone back to their duties as ‘waiters.’

“That was some performance,” I remarked,
trying to sound casual.

Sam turned. He was naked. His skin was damp
from the shower and patches of moisture had formed beads on his
skin where he was still oiled. He gave me a grin and shook out his
hair like a dog. God. Could he look any sexier?

“Did you like it?”

“Frankly, I thought it was disgusting.” I
moved closer and reached to run a finger across his bare chest.