I look over and see a few pink petals still lying in the passenger seat.
What the hell was I thinking? This is not me. I don't need fucking flowers or fancy dinners to get laid. I just flash a label, a black card, a hundred dollar bill. Girls wait in line.
I peel out of the driveway and grab my phone.
“Dawson!” I say, when he answers. “I need you to get to the airport immediately. Captive business. You’ll be gone over night. Meet me in twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes? But I thought—”
“Don’t say it,” I say, using my harshest tone. “Just get there. Now.”
“Shit,” he says. “Okay, I’m on my way.”
Next, I call Knox. “Dude, we’re going to Vegas tonight. Meet me at my plane in twenty.”
“Can I bring Jennifer?”
“This isn't boy scout dance night. This is go to Vegas, get buck wild, get a tattoo, close the strip club down because we paid all the girls to come back to our room—the penthouse with the pool, bowling alley, stripper pole. You remember the one—trash a hotel room, and steal a Bengal tiger kind of night.”
“Hell,” he says, “I barely remember half of what we did that night. Sure, why the fuck not. Hey, wait, I thought you were going on a date with—”
“Don’t fucking say it and don’t ask,” I warn. “Are you really bringing Jennifer?’
“I’m not sure. I need to find out how she feels about strippers.”
“Dude, she's anti-stripper. Every girl who isn't a stripper is anti-stripper.”
“Should I call my guy? Have him hook us up?”
“Absolutely. And, hell, the good news is if we bring Jennifer, we can write the whole fucking thing off. A Daddy's Angel contract celebration.”
“You gonna invite Keatyn?”
“No, and don't you fucking tell her. But invite Buckner and Phillips. We’ll get the old crew together.”
“Buckner is married and Phillips came out of the closet.”
“No shit? I watched him do lines of coke off a stripper’s ass. It was the best thing ever. Whatever. We’ll make our own party.”
“Hell yeah, we will. Are you sure you're not mad at me about Jennifer?”
“Nope. I don’t need that shit. We hung out. I let her drive my fucking car. And still no action. If you wanna pretend you’re in high school again, so be it. But I don't need to work that hard to get laid.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, she mentioned that you two hadn’t done it.”
“When did she mention that—wait a minute. Did you screw her already?”
“Uh, maybe.”
“Knox fucking Daniels, that's why I love you, you * getting dog you.”
“Well, what can I say, she liked it Knox style. What happened with Ariela?”
“You are not allowed to say her name again, ever again. But when I went to pick her up, she was kissing her husband.”
“That bitch!”
“Tell me about it.”
“You do need to fucking party. Vegas, here we come!”