Like Warm Sun on Nekkid Bottoms - Charles Austen [136]
“Good riddance,” Waboombas snarled.
I couldn’t agree more. I felt sympathy for her pain, but not much. I was now a man with a mission. Meeting Wisper’s mother in the lobby shop had changed everything for me. She could accept me if I made her daughter happy. So I would make her daughter happy. Somehow.
And given time, I might even become comfortable here. Or—if not—her mother would still be a potential ally, and that made the situation immensely more promising. I could handle being the weird son-in-law if it meant I were sleeping with Wisper every night, and seeing her naked, a lot.
As Ms. Waboombas sat on one of the twin beds, still nude, cleaning her toenails, I began cobbling together a plan. I paced back and forth across the room and thought things out. Morgan—carefully hiding his anchovy beneath the stack of comics and magazines—sat on the other bed and read.
Suddenly something struck me.
“Where’s the pastor?”
“In our room,” Waboombas said, as something flicked out of her toenail and hit me in the eye. “Taking a bath. He made me leave.”
“He made you,” I said, stunned. “You.”
“All right, he asked me. Nice. He seemed kinda upset, was breathing hard, all wild-eyed and shit, so I came up here and found the doctor trying to get in. The rest you know.”
“Are you okay, here?” I asked her. “You in a hurry to leave town?”
“Not really. The convention’s pretty much over for today, and tomorrow’s the better selling day anyway. And I kinda wanted to look around the place. It’s interesting here. Why? Are we staying?”
“I am. And I need your help with something.”
“It have something to do with the hostess from that restaurant?”
“As a matter of fact, it does.”
“I figured.”
“She’s also the model from the closet last night,” Morgan said, not looking up from his girlie magazine.
“I knew you knew her,” Waboombas said to me. “You were too cute together.”
“Will you help me?”
“Of course!”
“You will?”
“I’m a stripper. I know true love when I see it.”
That’s why she hadn’t ratted me out to Mindie in the restaurant. Why she’d stopped harassing me.
“You’re a romantic.”
“Shut up!”
“You are!”
“I could tell you never really wanted pasty-tits. But when I saw you talking to that honey in the restaurant—whoo! Splendor in the grass, baby!”
“Really?”
“I told you. I’m a stripper. I’m trained in the arts of love.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
“What? You think I’m hurt somehow? Get over yourself. You ain’t even my type, Corky.”
“But all those comments…”
“I’d marry ya, ‘cause you’re rich. I’d even fuck ya, ‘cause you’re cute, and ya got a nice wee-wee. But I ain’t in love with your ass!”
“I need you to go with me to this Summertime Soiree auction and party tonight.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll go?”
“Suuure. Looks like fun. I hear they’re going to sell white people. Maybe I’ll buy one.”
“I was hoping you would actually.”
“You were?”
“Remember that tall, dark, Tarzan looking guy at the restaurant?”
“The one with the great dick?”
“Um…yeah.”
“Thought a lot about him in the tub,” she said steamily.
“I’ll bet. How would you like to buy him?”
“Buy him? I don’t now. Guy like him—could go for a bundle.”
“I’ll pay.”
“You’ll pay?”
“I’ll pay. Whatever he costs, I’ll cover it for you. Just keep bidding and win him.”
“Whatever makes you happy. How about that gas station attendant?”
“I want you to focus on the restaurant guy.”
“Okay. It’s all good.” She studied me. “This is probably gonna cost you. The Nuckeby girl worth it?”
She knew her name. She really did pay attention.
“And more,” I said.
“Just her ass alone is worth it,” Morgan said, still not looking up from his magazines.
“So what’s it all about, Corky?” Waboombas asked, curiously amused. “What’s going on?”
“I want to buy her at the auction tonight, and her brother wouldn’t like it.”
“Tarzan?”
“Yep.”
“So you want me to keep him busy.”
“I do.”
She