Rock Chick Rescue
Page 74

“It’s stretchy,” Stevie whispered back.
“It’s gonna have to be,” I told him.
It was, it covered everything it was supposed to cover (barely) and even came down to mid-thigh (if I pul ed it hard enough).
Tod did my makeup on a level one half notch down from ful -on drag and Daisy did my hair in the only way she knew how. When I looked at myself, I had four times as much hair as I normal y had. I didn’t look like me, I looked like eye candy in an 80’s rock video.
“How did you do that to my hair?” I asked Daisy.
“Magic, Sugar,” she answered.
Al y and Indy were in the same get-ups. Indy was in green Lycra with a slashed neckline that gave more than a hint of cle**age ( much more). Al y was wearing her own red knit dress, with a turtle neck but no sleeves, a teardrop cut out at her cle**age and it was so short, she wouldn’t be able to bend over for fear of an inadvertent moon.
“My babies! I’m so proud. You look like the Burgundy-ettes,” Tod said, throwing his arms out to encompass us al and then hugging us in turn. His drag name was Burgundy Rose and he looked in danger of proposing a road show.
“We better get going,” Indy said quickly before Tod produced a Tina Turner CD and made us practice doing backup for “Proud Mary”.
Stevie stood at the door.
“Al right girls.” He handed out bags, “I’ve checked, stun guns and tasers are charged, pepper sprays are readily available. Knock ‘em dead.”
Dear Lord.
I took my bag and gave Stevie a kiss on the cheek and we rol ed out to the Mustang. We almost couldn’t fit al of our hair into the car but luckily we were wearing fewer clothes so it balanced out.
“Jet?” Indy asked, turning in the front passenger seat to look at me when Al y started to fol ow the directions Daisy gave her.
“Yeah?”
“What’d you mean about the Smithie’s uniform having a weird power over men?”
I shrugged, then I realized my hair hid my shoulders.
“You heard Vance,” I said by way of explanation.
She kept turned and I could feel her stare in the dark.
“At Blanca’s party, you said Eddie was out of your league. What’s that al about?” Al y asked from the driver’s seat.
Daisy was sitting next to me and I heard the fabric of her dress (ice blue, skintight, ultra-mini-skirt with a v-neck that showed most of her ample cle**age) slide against her seat when she looked at me.
“You think that, Sugar?”
“Wel ,” I said, feeling uncomfortable, “yeah.” Daisy burst out laughing.
I looked in the direction of her hair.
“He’s a cutie pie, that’s for certain, but make no mistake, you two look great together. Phenomenal. He’s al tal , dark and handsome and you’re al blonde, sweet and pretty. The perfect match. Comprende?”
I looked out the window.
“It’s just ‘cause you al like me,” I mumbled.
I wasn’t saying it to fish for compliments, in fact, I didn’t want to be on the subject at al .
Daisy’s hand took mine in a tight grip.
“Sugar, it’s true, I like you but ain’t no way I’d lead a girlfriend of mine into a world of hurt if she got herself caught up with some dickhead with his head up his ass.” Boy, Daisy didn’t mince words.
“You’re gorgeous,” Indy threw in.
“Please, let’s not talk about this,” I said.
“Eddie thinks you are,” Indy ignored me.
“Eddie wants to rescue me,” I explained.
Daisy emitted a tinkly laugh.
“Eddie wants a lot more than that. No man buys a coffee maker with a woman he wants to rescue. No way, no how.
He buys a coffee maker with a woman he wants to f**k. A lot. And for a good long time, and I don’t mean the f**kin’ I just mean time. Comprende?” Daisy said.
Dear Lord.
How could I not “comprende”?
“Vance thinks you’re hot,” Indy put in.
“Vance has seen me in my Smithie’s uniform,” I said.
“Hank hasn’t seen you in your Smithie’s uniform and he thinks you’re hot,” Al y said.
My mouth dropped open and I saw Indy’s hair turned to Al y.
“He tel you that?” Indy said.
“Heard him talking to Lee,” Al y said.
“Holy cow,” I said, in a state of, like, total shock, “Real y?”
“Yeah, um, I don’t get it. Do you not look in the mirror?” Al y asked.
“That’s what my sister says,” I told her.
“Sugar, I hope you don’t mind me sayin’, your Daddy left you ‘cause your Daddy’s a jackass not because you ain’t al that ‘cause I’m here to tel you, you are. Smithie won’t have a girl work for him who isn’t al that and that’s the God’s honest truth,” Daisy declared.
This was true. Every girl who worked at Smithie’s was hot. It was a job requirement.
“I thought Smithie felt sorry for me because of Mom.” Daisy let go of my hand and made a snorting noise with her nose.
“Smithie’d give you fifty dol ars and tel you to take a hike. He wouldn’t put you in heels and a skimpy outfit and have you traipse around his bar. The point is, all his girls gotta give the guys hard-ons and make ‘em want to hang around longer, order drinks and enjoy the show. He ain’t gonna make no money if he’s got some plain-ass bitch draggin’ around.”
I saw Indy’s hair nod.
So, al this was making sense to me, but it stil made me uncomfortable.
“Okay. Can we stop talking about how hot I am and giving guys hard-ons?” I asked.
“Sure, Sugar.” Daisy gave in as if it was al the same to her, “Let’s talk about your Eddie and his hard-ons. Do tel , does the promise of what I saw in those jeans hold true?
Please tel me it does. It would be so disappointing if he stuffed a sock down there or somethin’.”
I laughed. If Eddie used a sock his crotch would enter the room before he did.
“He doesn’t use a sock and he’s so not disappointing it’s kind of scary.”
“How scary?” Al y asked.
“Mind-bogglingly scary,” I answered.
“I’ve always wanted to know if Eddie was even close to the promise of Eddie ‘cause the promise of Eddie is seriously shit-hot.” Al y said.
I thought about Eddie. I thought about Mom leaning against Eddie. I thought about Eddie getting so angry on my behalf he’d punch out Bachelor Number One and throw my behalf he’d punch out Bachelor Number One and throw a phone into a margarita pitcher. I thought about Eddie’s hands and mouth on me. I thought about Eddie moving inside me. I thought about Eddie in the shower. I thought about being tucked up against Eddie on the couch.