Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Wow, that’s very impressive,” I murmur.
Trevor nods.
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? That’s why I’m not even sure what I’m doing here, or why I’m doing this.”
Okay, this night is going downhill fast. Even the best-looking guy can turn into a dud when he has a bad attitude. Frankly, there’s no amount of money that can make up for a deficient personality, but I resign myself to at least making it through the night. There’s no sense in having my manager yell at me when there’s a new client on the line.
But then, something so awful happens that I sit in stunned horror as my eyes bug out. I thought Trevor had a bad personality, but at least he’s good to look at. But suddenly the mystery of his teeth reveals itself. With a nonchalant gesture, my date reaches into his mouth and pops out his top dentures before placing them delicately onto the bar’s shiny surface.
Then to my added horror, he reaches back into his mouth to remove his bottom dentures and sits them beside the others, directly on the bar top. Gross!
“Um, do you need a napkin for that?” I ask, eyeing the glistening, slimy mess.
“No, no!” Trevor says, his pronunciation odd now that he’s lacking teeth. “This is a wood bar so they can just wipe it off with a rag afterwards. It won’t damage the surface or anything.”
I stare at him, unable to contain my horror as he gives me the creepiest, toothless smile. OMG, this is a nightmare come true, and I literally grip my seat to keep myself from running off right then. Everything I found attractive about this man is gone now. His cheeks and mouth area are sunken into his face, making him look decades older. Those lips that looked masculine and mobile now just look shriveled, like he’s been sucking on something sour for hours. I swear, Trevor resembles a creature crawling out of the crypt, and all he needs is a black cape and a gnarled staff to complete the look. But honestly, the worst part is the fact that his dentures are just sitting in front of us on the bar, for everyone around us to see. Clearly, he has no shame even as I shrink into myself with embarrassment.
But my date’s clueless. His eyes move from me to his saliva-coated dentures on the bar top, and then back to me. He bares that toothless grin once again and it’s hard to suppress the disgusted shiver lancing down my spine.
“The dentures are no big deal,” he giggles, pointing at his false teeth. “They know me here at Miriam’s, so they’re used to seeing my ah … appendages out in the open.”
“Oh really,” I manage in a weak voice. “Is that so?”
He nods.
“Plus, I love bar nuts, but they’re hard to eat with false teeth. Little pieces of nut creep beneath my gum line and irritate the soft tissue, so I take them out.”
Normal people would just floss afterwards, but clearly, Trevor isn’t normal at all. I nod.
“Oh wow,” I manage in a wan voice. “I had no idea a toothless person could even eat nuts.”
Trevor beams.
“Oh that’s easy. Here, let me show you.”
He winks and then reaches forward to pick up an almond from the complimentary bowl of warm nuts in front of us. Then, to my horror, he tosses the almond in the air before opening his mouth like a gawping seal and catching it whole. His cheeks cave in as he sucks, and is it my imagination, but does he swallow the nut whole?
“See?” he asks with a satisfied smack of his lips. “No problem.”
To my horror, Trevor tosses a few more almonds into his mouth as I stare, my mouth in a frozen grimace. I’m going to give the agency hell for this because this behavior goes beyond the pale. What the hell? I’m supposed to be paired with billionaires and rock stars, and not a toothless circus clown pitching nuts at himself for fun. I’m so embarrassed to be here, and pray that this date ends sooner rather than later. At the moment, it feels like everyone’s staring at Trevor’s antics, and yet there’s nothing I can do and I’m utterly helpless. The bartender shoots me a sympathetic smile as my shoulders sag in on themselves.
Fortunately, things become a blur from that point on. Trevor tries to make conversation, but it’s hard to focus between the sounds of him sucking on bar nuts, and the gagging in my head. I merely nod and smile here and there, hoping I’m doing enough to appear reasonable while praying that that I never lay eyes on Trevor again. Even worse, the whole time his dentures sit on the bar top like an icky prize, gleaming and sticky with his saliva. Gross.