Page 31 of Chasing Lynda

The guy with the numbers takes another step toward me with an impatient snort. “I don’t have all fucking day here, girly! Do you want a fucking number or not? As you can see, the beach is full of aspiring Misses Wet T-shirt! You have more than enough of a rack to look good on that stage,” he says with a sleazy sneer, letting his eyes skim down my body. “But you gotta make up your mind.”

What the fuck did I just walk into? “I’m sorry, sir. I just didn’t realize—” I’m about to say that I don’t really like being touched when I register that the handsome stranger behind me is still keeping his hands on my hips.

For some strange reason, I feel threatened by the thought of the first guy touching me but the man behind me doesn’t get my hackles to rise.

“Monroe!” he barks. “Seriously, what the fuck is going on? Why do you have a tape measure? And keep your fucking hands to yourself! You can assign numbers without taking advantage of the situation.”

His tone is hard and as he takes his hands off of my hips and crosses his arms over his wide chest, I don’t know how is it possible that Monroe doesn’t look intimidated.

He reacts with a shrug. “Ha! Whatever! As if these girls here were here hoping to be elected Miss Virgin Mary! I’m pretty sure they accept the possibility of being felt up here and there if they’re willing to bare their tits for a free suite at the hotel this weekend and a three-hundred bucks cash prize! Fuck, they even get a free t-shirt out of it in the end!”

Monroe waves the yellow number at me. “So, what is it? Do you want a number or not? Final answer! We’re going to feed the twenty-five contestants some lunch and then get started. It’s already getting crowded, we sold out all the tickets in mere minutes as soon as they went on sale yesterday.”

I open my mouth to refuse. Because, really. Showing my tits to a crowd of strangers through a wet white t-shirt isn’t something I see myself doing. And that’s regardless of the crazy strict and repressive way I was brought up. But three-hundred bucks and an entire weekend at a luxury hotel? The idea of a hot shower and a real bed for two nights makes me consider the idea.

Of course, I’d have to win the first prize to get all that but I think about for how long I could live on three-hundred bucks.

I’m so caught up dreaming about not having to eat croissants off the floor for a few weeks, that I take the number and the white t-shirt from Monroe without even thinking. Even if I lose, he just mentioned lunch. So that’s another free meal regardless of how this ends.

Had I thought this through, I’d have remembered why I was going to leave not twenty minutes ago.

“Monroe! What the fuck is all this? I thought the wet t-shirt contest was supposed to be later tonight?”

Monroe smiles at the newcomer, a tall, blond man I recognize from my first night here on the beach. He’s the guy who beat the shit out of the asshole who thought that offering me a beer and a few potato chips, would give him the right to fuck me.

Now that I think about it, I think the blue-eyed hottie who was just telling Monroe to stop getting handsy with the girls was with him too.

Oh, shit! I really have to go if I want to avoid running into Carter or Zane and having to give an embarrassing explanation.

“Lynda? Hey! I’m so glad to see you! I’m so sorry about yesterday. I swear me taking a phone call during our date wasn’t out of rudeness, I really had something important come up.”

Well fuck, I guess that ship has sailed. At least Carter has a smile on his face and doesn’t seem offended by my disappearance after our make out session not far from here.

Zane is a completely different story. He’s standing next to Carter with his intense green eyes fixed onto me and his jaw ticking as he stares me down without a word.

“Sorry,” I say to Carter but keeping my eyes on Zane, because really he probably deserves the biggest apology. “I had to go. It had nothing to do with you, I promise.”

It isn’t a lie.

In another time, another life, things would’ve been different.

The guy who saved me on the beach levels Carter with an annoyed stare. “Yo, Carter! This Miss Wet T-shirt contest was your baby. Do you have an idea why it’s happening this early? I thought we said the day time events would be kept family friendly?”

Carter shrugs at his friend. “I have no idea, Dodge. I was trying to reach the fire department. We need an update on all our smoke detectors if we want to stay open. I just came here when I got a text from Monroe that I was needed at the beach.” He looks at Monroe. “What is going on, Buck? We had a plan. We don’t want complaints from our guests who are here with their young families for holding inappropriate events—”

Again, instead of being intimidated, Monroe smiles defiantly. “I already spoke to the fire department. They gave me a list of companies who can do the installation and I have a few people coming in on Tuesday morning to give us a quote. You don’t need to worry about that shit, Carter. As the resort manager, I’m in charge and the situation is being handled appropriately.”

Dodge’s tone is hard when he claps Carter on the shoulder and addresses Monroe. “You’re correct that keeping us current with all the necessary safety inspections is your responsibility. Responsibility that you should take a lot more seriously. I looked at the paperwork and you’ve missed the last two inspections. If we didn’t have close a relationship with the mayor’s office, we’d be liable to be shut down on one of the busiest nights of the year.”

Monroe’s smirk stays firmly in place. “Ah, but of course! The mayor’s office was well informed about the situation. But I was just following your father’s instructions in that particular instance, boss. The city council approved a new law that would mean a lot of additional safety items to be installed in every commercial business and your father was short on funds, so ...”

That seems to shut Dodge up about the fire inspection. “Right. Just see that we’re up to spec with the new requirements. But what about this? I seriously thought the wet t-shirt contest would begin at sun down?”

Monroe runs a tattooed hand through his greasy looking mullet. “I decided, as the manager here, to have the contest earlier. I raised the prices for access to the show, doubled them in fact, and they include admission to a Memorial Day bash at the hotel’s club. The girls who participate in the contest get free entrance and we advertised that extensively on our website and at the beach and hotel and we’re fully booked. We even sold out the fifty VIP tickets with full access to the elite area of the club’s sky bar. Two-hundred and fifty bucks a pop. I also organized a fireworks show at midnight. People will be talking about tonight for months.”

Ice blue eyes guy doesn’t look entirely convinced. “You should’ve run your plans by us, Monroe. I know the old owner didn’t care how you managed this place, but things are going to change. We have long term plans for the resort and—”

Monroe interrupts him. “We’ll talk about your plans after you see what we’ve already made with the tickets we sold. We already made more than this place earned last year for the entire summer season. In one fucking night. And that’s without counting the booze yet.” He gestures toward a makeshift stand where several kegs are providing drinks to a literal crowd of beach goers. I was so worried about bumping into Carter and Zane, that I hadn’t noticed how the cordoned area is now packed mostly with college aged guests.

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