The Bachelor Auction, Part IX

Oh my God, I did not just say that…I did not just THINK that…

Calvin, not seeming to notice my inner turmoil, just frowned down at me, obviously intrigued.

“Really? What’s wrong with the eyebrows?”

“They look like caterpillars about to mate,” I sighed, and when he looked more affronted than receptive, I took matters into my own hands. “Here,” I said. “If you just did this…” I reached up and pulled off the offending brows as easily as I might have ripped off a couple of band-aids. Fortunately, most of his actual eyebrow hair stayed in place, a miracle with the amount of glue he’d used.

I stepped back and surveyed my handiwork. And despite the bleeding, which really wasn’t very bad, I was even more pleasantly surprised at what I saw. Calvin Seersucker, beneath the layers of costumed geekiness, was definitely not an ugly duckling anymore.

“Now for the ears and cape,” I said, ignoring the mulish expression he gave me in return. “Come on. Hand them over. You can’t be a Vulcan Zorro starship captain.”

“Hey, this is fantasy,” he reminded me, crossing his arms over a chest that I tried really hard not to notice had spent some serious time at the gym lately.

I did my best to look down my nose at him, despite the height difference. It failed miserably, but I think I got the point across.

“What you’re wearing is not fantasy,” I pointed out. “What you’re wearing is some kind of bad Trekkie acid trip. You do want to get bid on, right?”

Calvin cocked his head at me, considering, a question in his eyes. But before he could say anything, another hand gripped my arm, and a warm, familiar voice whispered in my ear.

“You are going to bid on me…aren’t you?”