The Queen & the Homo Jock King (At First Sight 2)

“Right. The stuff and things.” I had no idea where he was going with this. And I didn’t like it one bit because we’d never had a fundraiser for either of those places, nor did we plan to. Any money that was raised went to Wingspan or some other nonprofit with a LGBTQ focus.

“Really,” Taylor said, obviously not believing a word we were saying. “And what kind of fund drive are you planning on holding? We raise tens of thousands of dollars just by holding a gala dinner. You really think you can top that? How?”

And there I was, thinking about how I’d like to top Darren, because my mind was a stupid, stupid thing.

“It’s not a contest,” Darren said. “I just thought you should know you’d be taking money away from at-risk children by closing the club. Just another angle to think about.”

“Okay,” Taylor said. “But that still doesn’t answer my question on how you plan to do that. It’s not like you can hold your own dinner. So, enlighten me. What kind of fundraiser would you have?”

Since my life wasn’t really an eighties movie, I made the firm and swift resolution not to say the very first idea that popped into my head, because it was absolutely ridiculous. I mean, come one. Did we really need to have a drag bachelor auction where I could be the MC and peddle man flesh while wearing something fabulously erotic? Of course not. We didn’t need that at all.

But how I wanted it. How it tantalized me.

Sandy, it whispered. Say me out loud. Just do it. I know it sounds preposterous, but do it. Come on, you know you want to. Everyone wants you to say it. It’ll feel so good. Say it. Just a little. Just a little bit.

And I did.

I did.

Because I wanted it.

I wanted to wear that costume with the green feathers off the shoulders that was absolutely skintight and left nothing to the imagination. How amazing would I look in that? Why, I bet I could raise at least a million dollars off my look alone. And not to mention how perky my ass looked in it. That was another five hundred thousand right there.

You know. For the children.

I had to think of the children.

So while Darren opened his mouth to probably say something extraordinarily boring like having a bake sale (and there was never anything sexy about having a bake sale, even if the cakes were shaped like penises or balls or something), I made the firm and swift resolution to not let him embarrass himself (and by extension, myself) and said three words I never thought I’d get to say in my life out loud and not immediately be hit with a wave of groans.

“Drag bachelor auction,” I said.

Darren groaned.

Since it was only him that groaned, it did not constitute as a wave and therefore, I was still in the clear.

“Drag bachelor auction,” Taylor repeated dubiously.

“Drag bachelor auction,” I said again, because I couldn’t not say it now. It sounded glorious.

“And what is… that.”

I had to hand it to the mayor. I’d never really heard someone talk while at the same time sounding like they were going to vomit without actually vomiting. It was quite an accomplishment.

But it mattered not. Because drag bachelor auction. “We dress up men who don’t usually do drag and then auction them off as eligible bachelors. Whoever bids the highest wins a date with said drag bachelor. One hundred percent of the profits go to saving the children from Ebola or scurvy whatever it is those charities do. Mad cow disease? Oh. Right. Drug babies. The money will go to save little Cracky Crackerson.”

Darren was starting to look like he wished he could be anywhere than where he was. Which, you know.

Rude.

“You dress up men as women and then pimp them out, is what you’re saying,” Taylor said. Which was also rude, but entirely accurate.

“Of course not,” I said. “There is no pimping.” So much pimping. “It’s not about anything sexual.” There would probably be a lot of sex, if the people on the date were so inclined. “We just want everyone to have a good time and donate what they can.” Give money and you can have sex with a man in a dress was probably not the best slogan to have for a children’s charity fundraiser. I’d have to work on that. “It’s not that big of a deal.” It was a super big deal that I was going to have to do regardless. Mike was not going to be pleased. “Darren here is even participating.”

I really shouldn’t have said that.

“I’m sorry,” Taylor said, sounding aggrieved. “Can you repeat that?”

“Yes, Helena,” Darren said. “I think I’d like to hear that again too.” He also sounded aggrieved, but his was more from a place of violence than his father’s. It was a good thing I’d decided I had feelings for him, otherwise I might actually be scared. But I couldn’t see the fear past the stars in my eyes.