Page 118 of Catfish

I watch Wade judge out his shot, his white dress shirt rolled up his forearms, standing out like a sore thumb. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed.

The middle-aged busty blonde has been eyeing his ass since he's been standing there like a damn wannabe pro-bowler assessing his throw. His slacks outline the curve of his ass and upper thighs.

An elderly woman skimmed her hand up his back, making him jump back a tad before seeing who it was. I had to stifle back the laugh, which he must've sensed because I got a scowl sent in my direction.

The plan wasn't to get him molested during this event, but regardless, it's been fun to watch. It's not my fault that his broody nature is a bird call for women to want to give him attention.

Especially when I bet he has a lot of built-up sexual tension.

Unless he has a side chick that he bangs late at night.

It’d be surprising because the way he throws the ball down the lane makes it look like he’s been wanting to beat the shit out of something for quite a while.

It’s a damn shame—honestly and truly.

It could also be the pressure of his future and the unknown. I didn’t mind helping him out the other day with getting rid of his father, calling him up to tell him that his car was being towed and offered the hostess a hundred bucks to keep the door locked.

She did, he banged on it, I opened it, stating that I was the manager and that we were closed for a private party. He threw a bitch fit, and I proceeded to tell his entitled ass that if he didn't leave I'd take my crowbar out and make it so he'd really have to have his car towed.

He’s going to call the owner of DeLuca’s to get me fired—good for him. Obviously, I don’t work there, soooo….

Wade waits for his bowling ball to come back, while the women near by take their opportunity to get another view of his body, so I take mine to lean into the guy next to me.

"He has my vote," I announce, crossing my arms while shaking my head. "He canceled three of his meetings today to come here and support Annie.”

Emmy canceled three of his meetings today before driving him here—surprise!

Annie was a client I had last year. I threw a surprise birthday party for her husband, and every time we'd meet to go over the plans, she'd have warm cookies and milk waiting for Sadie and I.

Since the subject hit home, I came. And so did the rest of the neighboring towns.

The older man I’m talking to looks over at me with a confused expression. “Who, him?” He nods towards Wade.

“Yep.”

“Who is he?” His face twists, perplexed at who I’m speaking of.

My eyes widen in rehearsed shock. “That’s the governor. He’s running for president.” His eyes match mine as he looks back at Wade.

“Really?”

"Yeah—" I extend a hand. "—but don't make it a spectacle. He doesn't like press, but I mean, can you blame him? They're always around."

Spread the word around, old man.

“And his donation,” I continue, then lower my voice into a whisper. “Over ten grand.”

My new friend snaps his neck to me. “Are you serious?”

My eyes well up in tears that I force to appear. “Isn’t that amazing? Do you know how much of Annie’s medical bills that’ll pay?” I bring the back of my hand to my mouth. “So sweet and generous.”

“Wow.” He turns his face away again to watch Wade throw his second shot. “I’ll have to shake his hand.”

My hand swiftly lands on his forearm. "Please don't thank him for the donation, it wasn't supposed to be public knowledge, and it slipped. But if you want to introduce yourself and say hello, I'm sure he'd love it. He doesn’t like announcing who he is, he’s that humble.”

Jury is still out on that one.

“Yeah, I’d like to do that,” the old man says as he takes another sip of his draft beer.

---