Now, I paused for that. Fucking with Shumway might just piss him off worse, although that would be well worth it. But I still might not get my business license. For a moment, I actually mulled over Pratt’s offer. Pratt must’ve known what he was doing when he rotated his belly side to side, massaging my dick. Could I do it? One tiny blowjob and he’d give me my business license? Hell, before I started Liberty Temple, I used to mouth fuck upstanding religious men for way less than that. For the price of a meal.
Then I realized no way. He’d have cameras hidden so well I could never find them. And he’d edit the video to cut himself out, naturally. The sex tape of the new occult arts teacher would be famous throughout Utah before sunset. And I didn’t want to give Oaklyn any more reasons to accuse me of being a degenerate. So far, I was turning my life around, getting a personality transplant as an upstanding citizen. I couldn’t fuck with that.
“In your fucking dreams, shit-for-brains” I yelled at him.
And maybe again it was an automatic reaction, but I kneed him in the testicles.
It got him away from me, and when I took both his crouching shoulders in my hands, I shoved him hard. There were several guys standing behind him who caught him, and I don’t think anyone saw the altercation, so I made my getaway up the stairs. I put what I thought was a pretty high bid on some kind of spa treatment for Oaklyn and made my way back into the banquet hall.
The room was clearer now. Servers had started bringing giant plastic buckets of cooked crab, placing them in the center of each group of about eight people. I grinned like a jackass as I approached our table. I’d just gotten the best of my two biggest rivals in town, and now Dust Bunny was standing in the aisle with Dingo’s help unfurling a giant banner that said MAXIMUS FOR GENERAL MAYOR. It was a brilliant way to announce his candidacy, and a witty expression from the Russell Crowe movie, too. Then I started thinking how my story was kind of like Maximus’ in Gladiator. With Ladell Pratt as the twisted, sadistic Commodus.
Our Maximus sat at the end of the table, the better to greet his supporters who had been crowding him for an explanation. I approached from the other, less crowded side, squeezing past inked bikers who already had butter dripping down their chins. Some ate with wild abandon, but a couple of the more OCD ones withdrew their tasty morsels with a pick or another claw and made little piles to be savored later.
I was one of the crazed sorts, so I plunked down next to Oaklyn and grabbed the last good claw. People never grabbed the bodies where the meat was most abundant, so I took several of those.
“Here, let me show you how.” I took my claw and showed her how to get the meat out in one big chunk. Then, inspired by my recent successes, I dipped it in butter and fed it to her from my little crab fork.
Her eyes closed in ecstasy. “Mm. I’m glad this is bottomless crab, because for once I’m hungry enough to eat all you can eat.”
I grinned. I liked seeing her like this. “I’ll keep feeding you the good claw meat. Hey, Yosemite Sam! Trade you a body for your claw.”
Yosemite Sam sneered. He was a permanently surly sort of guy. “Hell nah. Why would I do that?”
I gestured at Oaklyn with a crab shell and replied, “Because the lady here wants you to.”
A rare smile grew on his face. “All right,” he drawled, and tossed his claw into my paper plate. “Iffin your old lady wants you to.”
Old lady! I glanced at Oaklyn to see if she’d heard him. She had, all right. Color flushed her burnished copper face and she looked shyly at her hands. I had to lean in close to her to be heard over the hubbub. It was like being at King Henry’s banquet table or something, what with all the bellowing, cramming of food and drink, and general debauchery.
“Would you like to? Be my old lady, that is.”
She finally looked up. She was like a scared puppy who only dared to her move eyes. “I think I’d like that.”
Well, fuck me dry. “Lambikins,” I said, before even more emotion could sweep over me. I kissed her, my hand cradling the back of her neck, massaging her scalp with my fingertips.
My old lady. Here I was, a freshly minted Prospect, and already I had an old lady. I broke the kiss with dozens of little nibbles to her lush lips. Her eyes looked moist, and I hoped mine weren’t. Not in a million years, when I first saw this Nurse Ratched enter my abode with her crisp clipboard and medical bag, would I have believed I’d be in danger of falling in love with this woman. Sure, she had a superior attitude. I would too, if I was as awesome as her. She was just being a good nurse.
“Mahalia,” I shouted across the table. “Meet my new old lady, Oaklyn.”
Mahalia squealed. “Is that true, Oak?”
“Sure is,” Oaklyn finally admitted.
Mahalia had to tell Gideon, who had to tell Sledgehammer, who had to tell Dingo, who had to tell Deloy, who leaped to his feet, clapping his hands. He came over, kissed us both on both cheeks and gushed, “That is amazing news. I love the two of you together. Does this mean there will be a spare bedroom when Levon moves into the master with you?”
I looked to Oaklyn for guidance. She said, “Well, let’s not get too excited here. One step at a time.”
“Yes,” said Deloy, “like Levon giving you a PROPERTY OF patch.”