Page 6 of Necessary Roughness

When I get to the hotel, I can tell the party is already in full swing. I park, and as I’m heading up the steps to the lobby, I see a cloud of bubbles and suds floating down from the roof deck. I duck out of their way, slip inside, and head for the elevators. I’m stopped by a big man wearing a black suit.

“Excuse me, miss,” he says. “Are you a guest at the hotel?”

“I’m a reporter,” I reply. “I have an interview with Bobby Brodeur.”

“One moment please.”

He turns and steps away from me while whispering something into his walkie-talkie, then turns back to me and nods.

“You’re good to go.”

“Thank you!” I say, a little snippily, as I step into the elevator and thumb the button for the roof. My stomach lurches as the lift moves, and I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. By the time the doors ding and open, I’m back in control, but when I see the scene in front of me—one of complete and utter debauchery, I wonder if I’m going to actually be able to go through with this.

4

Natalie

Bubbles. Bubbles everywhere. It’s like I just walked into the world’s largest bubble bath, only instead of it being a cute scene with a mom and her baby boy, it’s a bunch of jocks and a horde of screaming, cheering, giggling naked girls.

“Woow, ya, girl! Get it!” one of them screams as the other twerks the suds off her butt while standing on a table drinking champagne from a bottle. Three girls cheer and another joins her on the table, flashing her suds-covered fake-boobs around for anyone to see.

Fuck. I should just get out of here.

No, Natalie. You’re a professional! You can do this! And I can. I just have to find Bobby, get him to spill his guts, and get the hell out of here to write up something passable for Charles so I can get him off my back. But as I step out of the elevator, I realize it’s not going to be that easy.

“Wooo, more meat!” I hear a girl shriek and glance to my left just in time to see a completely naked blonde leap onto me. She’s soaked, covered in bubbles, wraps her legs around my waist and dumps a glass of champagne all over my head.

Sputtering, I stagger to the side and brace myself against the wall, but it’s not enough. She’s waving her arm in the air like a cowboy riding a bull, and my legs give out from under me. I brace myself for the impact, but it doesn’t come; instead, I feel a set of strong arms grab me beneath the arms, and when I look up, see Bobby Brodeur grinning down at me.

“See?” he smirks. “I knew you were a wild chick.”

“She jumped on me!” I protest as I get to my feet and wriggle out of the blonde’s grasp. My hair is completely ruined, and I thank God that I’m wearing black and not white. I shrug out of Bobby’s grip and spin around to face him. He’s not naked this time, but he might as well be; he’s wearing a man-thong with little eyes on it that make the gray fabric sheathing his dick look like an elephant’s trunk. It’s absurd, completely not classy, arrogant as hell and every feminist, independent-career-woman impulse me knows I should be repulsed by it…but am I?

“Do you know about the Kingsley scale?” he asks, throwing me off guard.

“You mean the Kinsey scale?” I correct him. He smirks and points a finger at me.

“That’s the one!”

“Yes, I know it,” I reply. “Why?”

“Well, what it says, is that girls are much more fluid with their sexuality than guys.” He grins.

“Yes…” I say. I know where he’s going with this.

“So if you want to lez it up with Barbara over there, feel free!” he replies. “No judgment here!”

I couldn’t roll my eyes harder if I tried. I do, and I make sure he sees it. But he seems completely unfazed and reaches out to give me a hearty pat on the arm.

“I’m just messing with you,” he tells me. “Relax. I’m not as bad as you seem to think I am.”

“I know,” I reply. “You’re obviously a lot worse.”

“Come on,” he protests. “You don’t like Derry?” he asks as he points down to his thong. “He’s an elephant.”

“Cute,” I reply sarcastically as I check inside my purse. Thankfully, I had it zipped up and the contents are still dry.

“Want somewhere to put that?” he asks. “Come on. I’ve got a private room over here.”

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