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Authors: Juliet Rosetti
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little kennel. Then I banged on his cage and threatened to have him neutered.”
Mazie nodded. “A lot of guys need neutering.”
“I shocked his dog collar a couple of times,” Juju said, “but mostly I was bored out of my mind. The submissive must have gotten off on it, though; he tipped me fifty bucks.”
“You sound tired,” Mazie said.
“I am. And my throat hurts from yelling. Oh—I almost forgot—the reason I stopped in.” Juju fished a white T-shirt out of her handbag and flapped it in front of Mazie. “Get your pushup bra on, babes—we’re going to a pheromone party.”
“Oh, goodie. Because the last party you dragged me to went so well.”
“This one will be different. It’s called Phero-mates.” Juju brandished the T-shirt. “It’s a matchup event!”
“No matchups. No dating. I’m off men for the rest of my life.”
“But you want kids,” Juju pointed out. “How are you going to have kids?”
“Turkey baster.”
Magenta screwed up his face. “Eww. Is that what it sounds like?”
Juju grinned mischievously. “Women don’t really need guys anymore.”
Magenta groaned. “If only the same was true for gay guys.”
“You know about pheromones, right?” Juju said. “These chemicals people secrete that attract the opposite sex. It’s all very subconscious—”
“I know what pheromones are.” Mazie was convinced that it had been Ben Labeck’s pheromones that had originally attracted her to him. “And I’m not going to find a mate by sniffing his hairy armpit.”
“Nobody sniffs your pits. You just sleep in a T-shirt for three nights, then you stuff it in a baggie and bring it to the party. Which is tomorrow night at eight o’clock, by the way. You owe me ten bucks for the shirt and twenty-five for the admission fee.”
“Thirty-five dollars for some pseudo-scientific—”
“Come on, Maze—step out of your comfort zone.” Juju prodded the styling chair lever with her foot and spun Mazie in a circle. “Now that you’re unattached, you can try all kinds of new things. Show off that new haircut. Try different nail polish and makeup. Get a new outfit.”
Mazie’s clay masque cracked. “I think I’m about to hatch.”
“That’s right! You’re hatching out of your shell or cocoon or whatever those things are and emerging as this big, gorgeous, man-attracting butterfly.” Juju thrust the white T-shirt at her. “Wear this tonight. Let your pheromones rub off for a few hours.”
“I thought it took three nights.”
“So cheat. Everybody cheats. I’m dabbing a few drops of Chanel on mine.”
“No, no, no.” Magenta waved his arms. “Waste of perfume. You want to know what guys like?Pumpkin pie spice. I read it in
Cosmo
. Pumpkin pie spice—it slays guys dead. It increases sexual arousal in the human male by forty percent. And vanilla’s in second place.”
Juju looked outraged. “I’ve been spending a fortune on expensive perfume and stupid men just want me to smell like my mom’s kitchen?”
“You know the old expression,” Magenta said. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Turns out that the same is true for other parts of the male anatomy, too.”
Chapter Eleven
Ben edged over the speed limit on the drive back. It was a seven-hour drive to Milwaukee and he was worried that the ice in the chest would melt. Half a dozen black bass, caught shortly after dawn, were packed in the chest, all filleted, deboned, and wrapped in aluminum foil. There were frozen French fries, too, purchased at a convenience store along the highway. He’d go directly to Mazie’s place, he decided. She’d know how to roll the fish in cornmeal and fry them up in a little oil, while the fries crisped up in the oven.
Fish and fries and the Heineken Mazie always kept in her fridge for him—perfect! While they ate, he’d tell Mazie about his fishing expedition and then the evening would end in Mazie’s bed. The thought left his mouth dry and his
Mazie nodded. “A lot of guys need neutering.”
“I shocked his dog collar a couple of times,” Juju said, “but mostly I was bored out of my mind. The submissive must have gotten off on it, though; he tipped me fifty bucks.”
“You sound tired,” Mazie said.
“I am. And my throat hurts from yelling. Oh—I almost forgot—the reason I stopped in.” Juju fished a white T-shirt out of her handbag and flapped it in front of Mazie. “Get your pushup bra on, babes—we’re going to a pheromone party.”
“Oh, goodie. Because the last party you dragged me to went so well.”
“This one will be different. It’s called Phero-mates.” Juju brandished the T-shirt. “It’s a matchup event!”
“No matchups. No dating. I’m off men for the rest of my life.”
“But you want kids,” Juju pointed out. “How are you going to have kids?”
“Turkey baster.”
Magenta screwed up his face. “Eww. Is that what it sounds like?”
Juju grinned mischievously. “Women don’t really need guys anymore.”
Magenta groaned. “If only the same was true for gay guys.”
“You know about pheromones, right?” Juju said. “These chemicals people secrete that attract the opposite sex. It’s all very subconscious—”
“I know what pheromones are.” Mazie was convinced that it had been Ben Labeck’s pheromones that had originally attracted her to him. “And I’m not going to find a mate by sniffing his hairy armpit.”
“Nobody sniffs your pits. You just sleep in a T-shirt for three nights, then you stuff it in a baggie and bring it to the party. Which is tomorrow night at eight o’clock, by the way. You owe me ten bucks for the shirt and twenty-five for the admission fee.”
“Thirty-five dollars for some pseudo-scientific—”
“Come on, Maze—step out of your comfort zone.” Juju prodded the styling chair lever with her foot and spun Mazie in a circle. “Now that you’re unattached, you can try all kinds of new things. Show off that new haircut. Try different nail polish and makeup. Get a new outfit.”
Mazie’s clay masque cracked. “I think I’m about to hatch.”
“That’s right! You’re hatching out of your shell or cocoon or whatever those things are and emerging as this big, gorgeous, man-attracting butterfly.” Juju thrust the white T-shirt at her. “Wear this tonight. Let your pheromones rub off for a few hours.”
“I thought it took three nights.”
“So cheat. Everybody cheats. I’m dabbing a few drops of Chanel on mine.”
“No, no, no.” Magenta waved his arms. “Waste of perfume. You want to know what guys like?Pumpkin pie spice. I read it in
Cosmo
. Pumpkin pie spice—it slays guys dead. It increases sexual arousal in the human male by forty percent. And vanilla’s in second place.”
Juju looked outraged. “I’ve been spending a fortune on expensive perfume and stupid men just want me to smell like my mom’s kitchen?”
“You know the old expression,” Magenta said. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Turns out that the same is true for other parts of the male anatomy, too.”
Chapter Eleven
Ben edged over the speed limit on the drive back. It was a seven-hour drive to Milwaukee and he was worried that the ice in the chest would melt. Half a dozen black bass, caught shortly after dawn, were packed in the chest, all filleted, deboned, and wrapped in aluminum foil. There were frozen French fries, too, purchased at a convenience store along the highway. He’d go directly to Mazie’s place, he decided. She’d know how to roll the fish in cornmeal and fry them up in a little oil, while the fries crisped up in the oven.
Fish and fries and the Heineken Mazie always kept in her fridge for him—perfect! While they ate, he’d tell Mazie about his fishing expedition and then the evening would end in Mazie’s bed. The thought left his mouth dry and his
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