Page 36 of The Sea Witch's Son

“Hell no. I’m a heterosexual man who prides himself on abstinence.” He sighs, “At least that’s what I tell my dad.”

“Not the most open-minded, huh?”

“Nah, but I know I’m privileged.” He gestures around the ballroom, “My family is rich as fuck and my dad is great. He pisses me off with the constant weight updates, but honestly, he’s my best friend.”

I blink in surprise, “Isn’t your dad the one standing in all the hunting portraits?”

A sheepish smile hits his face, “He’s a little vain.”

“You don’t say.”

“Sexist, too.” Gus lifts an impossibly broad shoulder, “But nobody is perfect. I don’t know anyone else who can say their dad took them hunting around the world. Together, we eliminated eight endangered species. It was fucking awesome.”

“That sounds...”illegal, unethical, morally fucked up,“Great.”

“It was. The only time we argue is about my gains and my future wife.” He casts a sideways glance at me, “You could help with the last one, though.”

I start laughing until I realize he’s not joking.

“Wait. Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah.” He sweeps his arm out in front of him, “You could be Madame Gus Cartier and this could all be yours.”

Looking around the room, I fight back a grimace. The golden chandeliers are tacky as hell and the long red drapes stick to the harsh and limited colour palette. Not to mention, there’s a life-size printout of Mr. Cartier from when he won Mr. Universe in 1999 that’s standing tall and proud at the back of the ballroom.

Oblivious to my thoughts, Gus continues his proposal, “I will need a male heir, of course, but we could easily hire a surrogate to mix our shit together.”

“I don’t think you can choose the baby’s sex.”

“Really?” He blinks, “I thought you just filled out a form and got what you ordered.”

I burst out laughing, “It’s not a click and collect system.”

“Well, shit. They need to start working on that.”

The dazzled look on his face has me laughing harder. I didn’t mean to strike up a conversation with the wannabe bodybuilder, but Gus surprised me by asking if I wanted to dance. I said no and here we are.

Talking about killing endangered species and ordering male babies like any other Friday night.

He’s more down-to-earth than I expected. Maybe it’s the dumb jock in him, but Gus seems more transparent than the others. He says what he thinks with no filter, and even though half the stuff he says is fucked beyond compare, it’s refreshing to hear someone talk about their family as though it’s not a political powerplay.

“So, what do you say? Want to be my little wife for the rest of eternity?”

“This is my first proposal, so I appreciate you taking the time to make it romantic.” Biting back a smile, I pat his thick arm, “But no. I’m going to pass on that one.”

He sighs, “The number of girls in this town is fucking pathetic. No wonder I ended up gay. I had no other option.”

“Again, I don’t think it works that way.”

Looking out at the couples dancing across the ballroom floor, I feel a pinch in my chest. If you ignore the drunk rambling andthe drugs being passed from shady areas, it looks just like the galas Arielle used to take me to.

We never lasted long. By the third or fourth song, my mother would be vibrating with so much inspiration that we would sneak out the back door and run for the closest taxi so she could make it home before the lyrics stopped flowing.

It’s hard to imagine her growing up in this town. From the little bits and pieces I’ve seen, I think it’s safe to say that Arielle St. James never belonged to this world.

She belonged to a brighter one.

“Ah, fuck. There’s Marlin.” Gus tugs uncomfortably at the collar of his polo shirt, “Don’t tell him I proposed to you, okay?”

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