All In:Playing the FoolBy: Lane Hart
I still couldn't believe my little sister was married, and not just to anyone. No, Jules's new husband was Dylan, my best friend of fourteen years, the rich bastard. Ever since I'd lost my wingman a few months ago I hadn’t gone out much. But tonight, I was way past desperate.
While Jules and Dylan were off on their honeymoon in Hawaii, Dylan left the care of their apartment and his vehicles to me. It was sort of an old school dowry. I gave him permission to marry my sister, and he let me live his filthy rich life for a week, including driving his million dollar Porsche and hundred thousand dollar motorcycle. Well…I had permission after I had several hours of driving lessons with him, on both. Unlike Dylan before he hooked up with my sister, I had no qualms about picking up gold diggers, maybe because I wasn't really rich.
So tonight, my last of living someone else's life, Joe Montgomery (my new wingman) and I had decided to head out to the clubs downtown in Dylan's Porsche. Joe was a local criminal defense attorney, and through my referral had hired my good friend Jess as his legal assistant about two years ago.
"Damn, this car is hotter than fuck," Joe said, rubbing his fingertips along the dash and around the buttons and gadgets that took up the entire center console. Even after riding in it with Dylan several times, and enrolling in his private driving school, I still didn't know half of the things this bad ass car was capable of.
"Come on, let me drive it. Just once around the block," Joe pleaded.
"Hell no," I laughed. "I don't trust myself driving it."
"Asshole," he grumbled.
I found a great parking spot right out in front of a club called Sin, perfect for displaying our ridiculously expensive ride. Easing the car carefully against the curb, I noticed that heads were already turning in our direction.
"I don’t understand why Dylan hated flashing his fancy shit around when he was single," I said to Joe, when we climbed out of the car.
"I take it you haven't dated many gold diggers?" Joe asked as we approached the line waiting to get into the club.
"Right, my IT salary draws them in all the time," I said sarcastically with an eye roll. I was a smart guy and made decent money with my associates degree, but I'd never be rich.
"Well, take it from me, they suck. Women mistakenly think I'm rich because I'm an attorney. When they find out I live modestly because I'm still paying off student loans, suddenly they're no longer interested."
"Do they at least fuck you a few times first?" I asked.
"Oh yeah," he said with a shit-eating grin.
"Then shut the hell up," I snapped, making him laugh.
We finally made it inside the club and headed straight for the bar. I walked over with Joe, at least. I couldn't drink. That was one of the non-negotiable rules for driving Dylan's car. I wasn't dumb enough to take a chance that I'd be okay after a beer or two…not in a car that cost more than I'd probably make in my lifetime. Hell no. Besides, getting wasted is not what tonight was about.
Tonight was about finding a woman to hopefully get hot and sweaty with later, even if it was only for one night. Did I want more? Of course, but I wasn't ready to get hitched just because all of my friends thought it was a good idea. Tonight I wanted to find a beautiful woman to get lost in for a few hours, even if I had to play up the lie that I was a rich bastard. And looking around, well, there were a ton of beautiful women in this place. It was May, college was out for the summer, and the temperature here in the south was way up. That meant that all the skirts and dresses were short as hell, and some, God bless them, were bordering on indecent.
Spinning my barstool around, I started searching for a girl that hopefully wouldn't tell me to go fuck myself. Other than my pretend high roller status, I didn't have much going for me. I was of average build, if not slightly short for a man, with plain brown hair. My green eyes were nothing special, and they were hard to see behind my glasses. I was lean, but not cut with muscles since I hated the gym.
My entire life I'd been surrounded by friends who I could never compete with when it came to picking up women. Tyler and Caleb were huge, alpha males. The two of them could snap their fingers and beautiful girls would appear as if by magic, ready to screw their brains out. Well, that is up until they both fell in love with strippers and married them.