Chapter 14

Wednesday, afternoon 12th Sept {Bob}

At three-thirty Jasper stormed into my office looking both mad and frantic.

"Crandall!" he barked. "The drawings for the Altec Tofu project are completely screwed up!"

"I didn't do those drawings," I pointed out. "That was Richardson's project, as I recall."

"Richardson's gone. His wife is having a fucking baby!"

I wanted desperately to point out to Jasper that my name was Randall, and not Crandall, as well as telling him I doubted Richardson's baby was doing anything even remotely close to fucking. Well it was in rather intimate contact with a woman's vagina, now that I thought about it. My musing was interrupted by Jasper throwing a roll of drawings on my desk. He knocked over my coffee cup which, thankfully, was empty.

"Get these fixed!" he commanded. "They have to be done by first thing in the morning."

"So you're going to fire Richardson?" I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"No, I'm going to fire you if those drawings are not corrected by tomorrow morning." Being a man of few words, he turned and left. While I was looking at the drawings to figure out what was wrong with them, I saw him put on his coat and leave. He wasn't putting in any overtime.

I saw the problem and groaned. It would take all night to fix. I flopped back in my chair as I remembered that in a few short hours I was hoping to try acting like a man if Chris kissed me, instead of mimicking a strand of spaghetti. Fuck! Well, that was out of the question. I thought about Richardson's baby again. Do you know how wacko it feels to be jealous of a baby just because it's being born and is closer to a woman's pussy than you'll ever be?

I picked up the phone and called Chris. Her voice, as she answered the phone, almost made me cry.

"Hey," I said sadly.

"Bob!" she said brightly. "Hi!"

"I have to work late," I moaned.

"That's okay," she said. "I can come later. What time?"

"Eight or nine tomorrow morning," I said, tragedy in my voice.

"What? You have to work all night?"

"Yes. This other guy did a whole drawing in the wrong scale and his wife is having a baby and I have to fix it."

"Oh Bob," she sighed. "You poor thing."

I thought about her kissing me and making it all better, which only made me feel even more depressed.

"I was really looking forward to seeing you again," I said.

"I kind of got that message last night," she said. I could hear a withheld chuckle in her voice.

"This isn't funny," I complained.

"I know that," she said, seriously. "You made me feel good by reacting the way you did last night."

"I did?"

"Oh, yeah. And when I feel good I get a little careless. Sometimes I let a man take liberties with me."

"You're killing me here," I groaned.

She laughed. "You really know how to make a girl feel sought after."

She bleated like a sheep and, so help me, I started getting another boner.

"Maybe breakfast?" I suggested hopefully.

"As much as I'd like to, I'm tied up all day," she said. "I have to have some work to the editor, and tomorrow night I have to attend the charity auction." There was a pause and she asked, "Did I tell you about the charity auction?"

"Charity auction?" I asked. "No, but I'd be happy to play your boyfriend if you need me to."

She giggled. "That would be singularly odd," she said. "It's an annual event where a field of women get together and bid on a selection of men. The women get a date, and the proceeds go to charity."

"You're going to fight over a man with other women?" I asked, my voice cracking again.

She laughed. "It's not mud wrestling, Bob. We just make bids, and whoever wins gets the option of going on a date. There are even some married women who participate. It's all very chaste, Bob."

"I'll just bet it is," I groaned. I knew how I'd act if two women bid each other up over me for a date.

"So you can see why having a boyfriend along might look a little odd," she said, ignoring my sarcasm.

"I suppose so," I said. "All right. How about Friday night?"

"I imagine that's when the date will be with whoever I bid on," she said. "It would be rude to buy a man and then not go out with him ... don't you think?"

"Bandit's never going to get trained at this rate," I complained.

She laughed again, and it just made me want to jump up and crow like a rooster. "He'll get trained, Bob. I promise you that."

"I hope so," I said without thinking.

She laughed again. "I bet you do." And she bleated again! "What are you doing Saturday night?"

"Training Bandit," I said firmly, more firmly in fact than I felt at that moment.

"You'll wait for me ... won't you?" she asked, her voice sounding strange somehow.

"Um ... yes," I said, feeling a little weak, now that I knew she was really coming.

"Okay, then. I'll be there."

"Oh good!" I said, sounding entirely too needy.

She giggled. "Get your work done and don't make any mistakes that will cause you to have to work Saturday."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

"Bye, Bob," she said.

And she bleated one last time before the line went dead.

I hung up the phone and ripped Richardson's drawing in half, just for the fun of it. Then I got to work.

Thursday, September 13 evening [Chris]

In spite of my resolve about Bob not being my toad, when he called me on Wednesday to break our date, I found myself flirting with him and saying things I hadn't planned on saying. Apparently, I was being taken-over by Lady, who was sitting at my feet while Bob and I talked. I swear I heard her say everything I said before I said it. When I said as much to her, she denied the charges, of course, and told me to get with the program and accept Bob; everyone else had and I was being ridiculous in pursuing any other toad. He was mine and that was that and I obviously knew he was since I behaved in such a manner with him.

"I'll let you talk to with him next time he calls," I informed her. "We'll see if you can respond any differently with him."

She rolled over on her back and looked as though she was laughing herself silly at me.

When Thursday evening rolled around, in spite of the odds being against me, I was determined no pretend boyfriend was going to detour me from the path of my toad, which I knew would be one of the guys on bid at the auction.

The bidding, as always, was a bit wild, but it was all in fun, and for a good cause. And most of us there could have bid way more than we called out. But, to be fair to everyone, we kept the bids within reason and still raised a good amount for charity.

When a veterinarian came up I knew kismet had struck. I was so excited I bid ten dollars over the opening bid. His name was John and he was six feet two inches tall, with shoulders so broad I wondered how he fit inside the tux he was wearing. His shoulder length blond hair was pulled back in a pony tail and his smile would melt butter. The auctioneer said he was new in town, and that we should welcome him appropriately. Several other ladies must have felt as I did because they jumped on the bid wagon and the price reached over a hundred dollars within seconds.

Eventually it was one other lady and myself in a bidding war. Any other time I would have been charitable and let her have him, but I was toad hunting and John looked to be everything I wanted and more. I wasn't about to let him out of my grasp. I figured she would drop out around three hundred or so, but when the bid reached two-fifty some other lady from out of left field jumped in and bid each time one of us put in a bid.

The lady I originally was bidding against dropped out and a minute later there was a commotion at the back of the room and some guy yelled out something about not being gay. Recognizing the voice, I turned and saw Bob being escorted from the room. At the same time, the auctioneer called out "Sold for six-hundred dollars even!" and the vet was all mine.

Thursday, September 13 evening {Bob}

Thursday morning Jasper's relief at finding the drawings were not only finished, but perfect as well, resulted in a completely uncharacteristic response from him.

"Take the rest of the day off," he said in a magnanimous tone.

I didn't say anything to screw it up. I just got up and left.

I slept right through lunch and didn't wake up until about four-thirty. While I got something to eat I thought about what Chris was probably doing about now. I figured she was getting all fixed up to go to this auction thing, where there would probably be cat fights over handsome hunks. I didn't actually know any men who had volunteered to be in something like this, but it didn't take a lot of imagination to figure out what they'd be like. Handsome, eligible bachelor struts his stuff for horny, lonely women with more money than sense. Then the next night he wines her and dines her, and the next thing she knows she's waking up well fucked with the tiger whose tail she grabbed still in bed with her.

The thought of it had me growling like I think I was actually supposed to growl at Bandit when Chris told me to. I realized I was probably wearing down my teeth, and took a breath. What if the guy didn't want to wait? What if he walked off the stage, struck a pose, and said, "You bought me, Beautiful, and I intend to give you your money's worth, starting right now!"

Chris is a sweet girl. Sure, she's been around the dog-eat-dog world of dogs trying to eat other dogs, but I was pretty sure she wouldn't stand a chance against an experienced guy. I mean she had sort of hinted around that just kissing me got her excited. I was pretty sure she was just being polite and all, but the fact was that I felt like somebody needed to be concerned about her ... just for her own well being, I mean. I didn't have any claim on her, of course, but that didn't mean I had to leave her to fate's fickle fiddling around, or the machinations of some semi-professional masher.

Which is why I decided to go to the auction, on the sly, and just keep an eye on her.

Of course I had no idea where this thing was being held, but I figured they wouldn't be trying to keep it a secret or anything. While I ate my soup I flipped on the TV and lo and behold, it was on the news. When I saw some of the guys who were going to be put on the block, I put my soup down, got dressed, or at least mostly dressed, and left the house at a run.

I guess the only really positive outcome for that night was that I didn't get a speeding ticket on my way to the hotel. The auction was being held in the ball room, which title did not make me feel any better by the way, and all I had to do was hang around behind this big potted plant to see where all the well-dressed women were heading. The funny thing was that some of them did have men on their arms as they went into the auction. I wondered if Chris hadn't wanted me with her for fear that I couldn't stand up to the examination of the well-to-do crowd. I didn't see Chris, and figured she'd gotten there early. After seeing the quality of the merchandise, I could understand that. I've spent many a happy hour staring through the window of the chocolate shop before spending my money.

Applause alerted me to the fact that things were going on in the ballroom, so I left the protection of the plant and sauntered across the lobby as if I knew where I was going. There were two women standing at the door, apparently to take tickets or something, but they were engrossed in looking at a list of some kind. I slipped past them and moved sideways.

I found myself against one wall, where some other men had gathered. Some of them were chatting in low voices, like they knew each other, maybe. There was an air of alertness about them, which I could understand. They'd been brought here by women who had shooed them away and were going to buy another man. Of course they'd be alert. The competition was about to step out on the stage. Just in case Chris looked around or something, I moved to sit in the last row of chairs, a couple of seats down from the nearest woman. Most of the other women had seated themselves closer to the stage.

Then the first guy was auctioned off. He was thirty-three, a bachelor, with a master's degree. He was also an architect which, in and of itself, would have made me hate him.

It was ugly. It wasn't even dignified. It was like a feeding frenzy as women began waving their cards in the air, calling out bids. Some of them were just catcalling, telling the guy to show them his pecks and things like that. Who know women could act like that?

I have to admit that it calmed down a little once that first guy was gone. I guess the girls got it out of their system while he was being sold off, because the catcalling stopped, and they got down to the serious business of outbidding their friends and neighbors for the next hunk to grace the stage.