Fifty Shames of Earl Grey: A Parody (5 page)

“I live here,” I say.

“I bought the duplex from Kathleen’s parents this afternoon,” he says. “I’m your landlord now. So technically I live here too.” He pauses. “I heard what you said in the living room.”

“I knew you would.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m not used to getting close to women I like.”

Aha! So he
does
like women.

“Here,” he says, handing me a package covered in Christmas wrapping paper.

“It’s not Christmas,” I say.

“It’s the only wrapping paper my assistant could find,” he says. “Don’t worry—I’ve already fired her for it.”

“Which assistant? One of your Barbie dolls?”

He looks at me, confused for a moment, and then says, “Now that you say that, I’m not entirely sure which assistant it was. I’ll fire them all when I return to Seattle, just to be sure.”

What a people person,
my inner guidette whispers. I tell her to shove it. I take the present from him and begin tearing into it. “I’m supposed to be studying for my exams,” I say.

“Not anymore,” he says, smiling that wicked smile.

“What do you mean . . . ?”

“I mean, I bought Washington State University,” he says.

“But it’s a public university!”

“Not anymore,” he says, laughing.

The nerve of this insane, handsome man!

“You don’t have to take your tests—classes are canceled. Everyone will graduate with honors.”

Gulp.

“Finish opening the present, Anna.”

“Okay,” I say, peeling the last of the wrapping paper off to reveal a hardcover book covered in cloth. I’m too young to remember a time when print books were “a thing,” but Kathleen has shelves full of them. I open it to the title page:
A Shore Thing
by Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi.

“It’s Snooki’s debut novel. This is a first printing,” Earl says.

“How did you know I’m a
Jersey Shore
fan?”

“Let’s just say I had a hunch,” he says, glancing around the room at the half-dozen
Jersey Shore
posters plastered on the walls.

“This book is worth a fortune,” I say. “I can’t accept it.”

“You have to,” he says. “Please.”

It’s too much. I feel overwhelmed. First, he buys Walmart. Then, he buys my duplex. And then my school. And now, this . . . The book is over the line. I feel like he’s trying to buy
me.

I toss the book at him, and he catches it. “I’m not a prostitute,” I say.

“Anna—”

I don’t give him a chance to finish whatever excuse he has prepared. I run from the room and grab Kathleen by the wrist. “I need a drink,” I say, slapping her in the face to wake her up and dragging her off the couch.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Kathleen says, slurring. We leave our duplex and our new landlord behind.
What an insufferable, rich, handsome man!

Kathleen and I are pounding back Jägerbombs at Eclipse, our favorite watering hole near campus. Eclipse is loud, and the music drowns out my internal monologue so that I don’t have to listen to how attractive and desirable Earl Grey is. Kathleen called Jin as we left home, and he met us at the club in his tight-fitting
My Little Pony
shirt, the one that shows off his muscular pecs.

“Have we told you we’re moving to Seattle?” I say to Jin.

“
Dios mío,
” he says. “No, this is the first I’ve heard . . .”

“Well, we’re doing it,” I say. “In two weeks, after graduation. Or sooner, since classes are canceled. We just decided to do it on the way here.”

Jin shakes his head. “Have fun,” he says. I can’t tell if he’s happy for us or jealous. Probably jealous, because Seattle is totally much cooler than Portland because it has buildings made of glass and steel instead of grass and mud. Plus it’s the birthplace of grunge, so Kathleen is excited to finally see a Nirvana show in their hometown.

“Another Jägerbomb?” Jin says, heading to the bar.

“Are you trying to get me wasted?” I say.

“Well, if you’re moving away, this might be my last chance to get you smashed and sweep you off your feet,” he says.
Oh my, Jin’s so funny!

“Where’s Kathleen?” Jin turns around and scans the packed bar. There she is—she’s on Jin’s back!

“Heeyyyyy,” she slurs.

“Okay, you get off him and I’ll get us another round of Jägerbombs,” I say.

“I’ll get him off,” Kathleen purrs into Jin’s ear. He grins and waves me off.

I stumble toward the bar. How many drinks have I had? Too many, I reckon. I don’t usually get drunk, but then again I don’t usually have a billionaire CEO showing up in my bedroom with an expensive gift. I don’t care how good looking he is—Anna Steal is not someone who can be bought with money. Or bought with things money can buy. When I get to the bar, my inner guidette does a backflip: the bartender is Earl Grey!

“You’re drunk, Anna,” he says to me, shaking a martini.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I say.

“You’re exceptionally beautiful,” he says.

I blush. “Let me guess: You bought this bar, too?”

He shakes his head. “Oh, Anna,” he says, reaching into my soul with his gray eyes and goosing my inner guidette. “For your information, I don’t own this bar. I’m a part-time bartender. It’s one of my many hobbies. I fell in love with bartending after watching the movie
Cocktail
.”

“Never seen it.”

“Tom Cruise?
Cocktail?
”

I shake my head. “I don’t even know who that is. Sorry.”

He laughs his wicked laugh and passes the finished martini to the girl on my left. He takes her money. “You are hilarious, Anna,” he says. “Your sense of humor knows no bounds.”

“If you really do this part time, why haven’t I seen you here before?”

“I normally tend bar at a little club in Seattle, but I’m filling in for a friend here who’s sick. Something you have a little experience with.” He smirks.

“Whatever,” I say. “Give me three Jägerbombs.”

“I’m sorry, Anna. I’m taking you home. You’re drunk.”

“Kathleen or Jin will drive me home,” I say.

“They’re just as drunk as you are,” he says. “I can’t take that chance. You’re too important to me.”

“But you’ll let them drive off, drunk?”

“Well, yeah,” he says. “I’m not worried about them or about anyone else on the road. The only person I’m worried about in this world is
you,
Anna.”

The things he says! He makes me feel like I’m the only girl in the world. I’ve never felt this special.

“We’re leaving now,” he says. I hope he’s not going to take me on another helicopter ride like earlier in the day, because this time I would, without a doubt, hurl.

“I have to go tell Kathleen and Jin I’m leaving, at least,” I say.

Earl leaps over the bar and grips my arm. “Forget them.”

“What, are you going to pay them off?”

“When you look at me, you must see a big pile of money,” he says. “Is that it?”

When I look at Earl Grey, I don’t see a pile of money. I see a pile of SEXY MF.
The room begins spinning . . .

Earl throws me over his shoulder and carries me toward the exit.

“Kathleeeeeeen!” I scream.

We stop moving. I look over my shoulder and see why Earl’s stopped: Jin. We’re in the middle of the dance floor, and dancers begin to clear out around us.

“Put the girl down,” Jin says.

“She’s drunk, and I’m taking her home,” Earl says.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Who’s going to stop me?
You?
A twenty-one-year-old
brony
?”

Jin nods. “That’s right, old man.”

Earl lowers me to the ground. I try to tell them to stop fighting over me, that I’m so drunk I’ll gladly blow them both in the bathroom. Unfortunately, I can’t find my voice. Where did I put it? I don’t have time to look for it, because the bro-down of the century is about to begin—over mousy little Anna Steal!

“So how are we going to settle this? Guitar Hero?” Earl says, rolling his sleeves up. The dance floor has cleared off completely and the DJ stops the music.

“Are you serious? What is this, 2008?” Jin says. “You’ve been watching too much
Gossip Girl.
”

“Maybe so,” Earl scoffs. “Then what did you have in mind? We sixty-nine each other on the dance floor and whoever makes the other come first wins?”

Jin shakes his head. “You’re real funny—for a rich prick.”

“Why don’t you call me that to my face?”

“I just did,” Jin says.

“Right,” Earl says.

“Enough fun and games,” Jin says, stepping to within a foot of Earl Grey. “We settle this the only way two men who happen to be in the middle of a dance floor can—”

“With a dance-off,” Earl says, interrupting him.

“Actually, I was thinking we could have a fistfight.”

“That works too,” Earl says. Kathleen stumbles over to me and puts her arm around my shoulders. She’s clearly blotto and in no position to intervene either.

Jin balls his hands into fists and stands toe to toe with Earl Grey. Their faces are so close they could kiss.
This could get interesting . . .

Earl reaches into his pocket and fishes a Benjamin out of his wallet. “One hundred dollars,” he says, dangling it in front of Jin’s face.

“What’s that for?” Jin asks.

“One hundred dollars for you to hit yourself,” Earl says.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Earl opens his wallet again. He stashes the hundred and pulls out a thousand-dollar bill. “One thousand dollars if you will hit yourself for me.”

“You think you can buy me? Never,” Jin says, slapping the bill out of Earl’s hand. The onlookers “oooh” as the bill flutters to the floor.

Earl, unperturbed, reaches back into his wallet and pulls out a bill emblazoned with a portrait of Mitt Romney. “A million dollars,” he says, holding it between his face and Jin’s. “A million dollars for you to punch yourself . . . in the balls.”

Gulp.

Jin lowers his head. There’s no way he can turn this down. Fighting over a girl is one thing, but a million dollars is another. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t be stupid, Jin,” I whisper hoarsely, my voice returning for a split second.

“Fine,” Jin mutters.

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you,” Earl says, grinning. Of course he’s lying, because everyone at Eclipse heard Jin. It’s so quiet you could hear a peen go soft.

“I said, ‛Fine.’ I’ll do it.” Jin snaps the million-dollar bill out of Earl’s raised hand and stuffs it into his jeans pocket.

“Make it worth my money,” Earl says, backing up to give Jin space.

Jin raises his right hand and pulls his fingers in tight. He closes his eyes and whispers a prayer under his breath.

I can’t watch him publicly debase himself in such a crude manner. I close my eyes. Kathleen hugs me tight. I can hear the men in the room draw their breath in and hold it. Then, there’s a soft thump like a baby bunny in a sack being hit with a mallet . . . and it’s over.

The DJ begins playing some music low in the background as the crowd dissipates. I open my eyes. Some students have gathered around a woman who fainted while watching Jin hit himself in the balls. Jin is lying in the fetal position in the middle of the dance floor, his hands cupped around his groin. He’s alone. If I weren’t so drunk, I would rush over to him and console him. But I would probably throw up on him, and that hardly seems appropriate.

Earl extends a hand to me. “Shall we?”

Kathleen scoops up the dropped thousand-dollar bill and whispers in my ear, “Don’t go, Anna,” but I shrug her off. Earl has fought for me, and I am his prize at the bottom of his Cracker Jacks tonight.

I feel myself hoisted into the air over Earl’s shoulder, and then my vision goes dark . . .

Chapter Seven

E
VERYTHING IS QUIET. I slowly open my eyes and feel like I’m being born again, again. The room is large and spacious. I’m fully clothed and in the middle of a fantastically giant bed. The sheets are more comfortable than anything I have ever slept on—the thread count has to be at least two hundred. Maybe even three hundred.

I hear a knock at the door. “Hello?” I say weakly.

The door opens and it’s Earl Grey. Instead of his suit and signature smiley-face tie, he is wearing a shiny silver thong and a pair of bright pink Crocs. And nothing else. His hair is slicked back.
Oh my, Mr. Grey . . .

“Good morning, Anna. How are you doing?”

“Better than last night,” I say, finding my voice.

He stands in the doorway and lets me ogle him in his silver willy warmer for a few seconds in silence. I can’t believe I made such a fool of myself last night at Eclipse.

“Where am I?” I ask.

“At the most expensive hotel in Portland. The Holiday Inn.”

“Oh.”

“I just took a dip in the pool,” he says. “Hence my lack of clothing. I hope you don’t mind.”

Don’t mind? I love it!

“I thought you were taking me back to my place,” I say.