Chapter One
"I had sex again last night. This time with Mr. Walden three rooms down."
I didn't want to hear this. God, I didn't want to hear this. We strolled down the produce aisle at the Grocery Guru and I grabbed a peach, pretending to check its damage.
"I do have to say, he wasn't nearly as proficient in bed as Mr. Nickels was last month ... Jessica Davis, are you even listening to me?"
Okay, obviously feigning indifference wasn't going to work with her. "Yes, I'm listening, Grams. You had sex with Mr. Walden."
My grandma gave a quiet harrumph and shot me a skeptical look. "It just doesn't make sense, Jessie. Surely if someone my age can have a healthy sex life, then someone as virile as you should be getting some too."
Getting some? Argh! When would she quit?
My friends seemed to think it was great that I had a grandma who was still comfortable with her own sexuality and even acted on it. But being on the receiving end of constant sex stories and talks about improving one's love life just wasn't as fabulous.
"You know, there's this young man who works in the Peaceful Woods cafeteria." She gave me a thoughtful look and I could practically hear the wheels in her head turning. "You should let me introduce you to him. He seems young and healthy. Why, I bet he'd have wonderful stamina."
Okay, surely she wasn't talking about the pimply-faced kid who'd just turned twenty-one a few months ago. I'd been there when the entire community of senior citizens had thrown him an impromptu party. Brought him balloons shaped like beer bottles, a bag of condoms, and then pinned a button on his shirt that said, "Trust me, I'm legal."
"Maybe you've seen him? His name's Andy. Red hair, pretty blue eyes..."
Yup. She was definitely talking about the kid. I wasn't sure why my grandma was so determined to set me up, but for God's sake, couldn't she pick someone who wasn't a decade younger than me?
"Hey, grab me a couple of those avocados, Jessie, and make sure they're squishy. I don't like them too hard." She poked me in the ribs with her cane and guffawed. "Well, my fruit that is."
Could this have sucked a little more? I mean, I loved my grandma. But, seriously, there was a line and Grams was fabulous at crossing it.
"Anyway, Jessie. I have a favor to ask you."
"Another one? I'm still trying to recover from the last one." Chaperoning a dance full of senior citizens. I swear there was something in the water at Peaceful Woods, because the folks there were the horniest batch of AARP members I'd ever seen.
"What's up, Grams?"
"Do you remember the Buy a Dame auction that happens every summer?"
Yuck. How could I forget?
The auction was a notorious fundraiser that the town put on every August to raise money for the public schools. Women dressed up in revealing clothing and paraded in front of the single male population on Leaf Island. Overall, it was a bit sleazy, with the highest bidder getting to keep the woman for twenty-four hours. The men loved it, and the women who were within the age of participation usually scrambled to get in.
Technically, it was supposed to be rather innocent. Just cooking, cleaning, and a woman to take out on the town--there were no sexual expectations. But I knew for a fact more than one woman had met their husband that way.
You gotta love life in small towns. Thank God I was too old for that kind of pony show, though.
"Jessie, I'm the one hard of hearing, not you. Answer me, girl. You remember that auction?"
I smiled at the produce boy who was arranging the apples, and ignored the annoyance that prickled through me. "I remember it. What's going on?"
"We're short girls this year."
Ah, I'd forgotten Grams was on the committee. Had Leaf Island never had the auction? What would they do if they were short women? Would they cancel it? Though I hated the auction itself, I knew the money went to a good cause. "Are you going to have to cancel?"
"No. I want you to go up for auction."
I clenched my fingers around the red apple I was loading into a plastic bag. Surely, I heard that wrong. But just in case I hadn't: "I'm too old, Grams."
"Bah!" She rolled her eyes. "I spoke to the committee and they're willing to make an exception for you. You're thirty-one so you only missed the cutoff by one year. You're pretty enough--have good skin. And you could probably pass for twenty-nine."
Pretty enough? I bristled. "I don't think so, Grams. You know I love you and would do almost anything for you. But I draw the line at you pimping me out for auction."
"Oh, Jessie..." Her lips started to tremble and she shook her head. "Think of the children. The school district has already gone through most of their allotted budget, and if--"
"All right." Jeez, she sure knew where my guilt button was. I adored kids, and thoroughly planned on popping some of my own out. Grams knew that all too well. "I suppose I could do it. When is it?" The moment the words left my mouth I regretted them. Why? Why had I just agreed to do it?
"Wonderful! I figured you'd say yes, so I signed you up. The auction is tonight down at the senior center."
My stomach clenched, my hands got sweaty. I didn't even have time to be pissed that she'd already signed me up. "Tonight? I couldn't possibly be ready by tonight."
"Sure you could. I have an appointment booked at Betty's Beauty Boutique in a half hour. She's going to give you a manicure, pedicure, and wax your eyebrows."
"Wax my eyebrows?" Heat spread up into my face. Oh God. I'd never even taken tweezers to those suckers. And now she wanted to dump hot wax on them before ripping them off my face?
"You know, I changed my mind, Grams. This really isn't my thing. I'm not auction material--I'm an accountant for God's sake."
"Of don't be silly, Jessie." Grams straightened to her whole five foot one height and glared up at me. "You have the potential to be a beautiful woman who knows how to have fun. And it's about time you realize it."
Potential to be beautiful? I glanced at the mirrored walls above the bananas. Was I so bad to begin with? My brown hair wasn't too exciting, but it was long and it had never garnered any complaints. I had contacts if I chose to wear them, but glasses were just way easier.
"Come on, girl, my ice cream is melting. And we need to get you to Betty."
And just like that, my night--possibly the next two days--were lined up for me.
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