Gotham's Apocalypse (A Joke Story [Sequel to Cruel])

28: Trophy Wife

When I exited the lady's room after having a slight panic attack, I gave a short smile to those who looked at me before going back to my place at the window. I cleared my throat, grabbing a champagne flute on my way there.

Once I placed myself beside the clean glass, I gazed at the buildings and their shadows as the sun started to set, the sky a beautiful orange hue, calming enough for even my tortured mind. I watched as the sun made its slow but steady descent. 

I let out a sigh, and was about to smile a genuine smile until I was stopped by the voice of the blonde man who had laughed when I told him I was a bodyguard. "Hey, erm, I didn't realize you were serious when you told me you were a bodyguard," He stated, scratching the back of his head nervously, his face in a sort-of ashamed, yet impressed grimace. 

I snorted. "Yeah, a girl can't possibly protect anyone."

He winced at my words before chuckling nervously. "I mean, to be fair, you're a relatively small woman, and you're in a dress and heels. Most people would need a bulky vest or more weapons."

I bit my lip. I still didn't meet his gaze, I glanced away to watch the setting sky. "I'm not most people."

He took a step closer, walking into my field of vision. When I looked up, our gazes met. He was smiling at me, a soft, gentle smile. "No, you're not."

I felt a burning in the back of my throat as I puked a little. I didn't want what he had to offer. Actually, to be real, I didn't need any of what he had to offer. I wasn't going to be some little housewife named Barbara with her three kids and a poodle, who drives a Mercedes around and has a pair of fake boobs, and has a Pilates instructor she sees a little too often because he's a younger, stronger male than her working stiff of a husband. I didn't want to grow old and be one of those snobby fucks who boasts, "Oh, yeah my daughter went to Harvard and my oldest son is going to Yale, but my youngest boy is going to travel the world before he's set on a college. My kids are so amazing, so much better than other kids."

God, that lifestyle was so stupid and petty, it made me sick to my stomach. 

"I get where your end game is, and truly I'm flattered, but I'm not interested." I took a sip of my champagne.

He looked startled. "W-why?"

"I don't need a reason to not want to date a person. But if I'd have to choose one, it's the fact that this lifestyle isn't for me, and it's clearly for you. Also, I'm not looking to be with anyone, as I just got out of a long relationship." I gulped down the champagne and placed it on the small table next to me.

"Look, I'm a nice guy."

I let out an aggravated sigh, rolling my eyes while simultaneously rolling my head to look up at him with a pained expression. "Buddy, I'm not a woman you can make into a housewife, or a mother. I'm not subservient. I'm hard to tame. I'm sure there's plenty of women looking to bag a rich man so they can avoid going to school and actually making something of themselves. In fact, there's more of them than there are of me. Now if you don't get out of my face, you're going to have a really hard time picking up chicks on account of your face being bashed in." 

He pursed his lips and let out a huff before stomping away from me. Aw, he didn't get what he wanted, boohoo.

I let out a small chuckle. "Damn," I heard Bruce's voice after a moment of desired, beautiful silence. God, damn it what now? He let out a whistle. "You really do turn them down hard, don't you?"

"Women aren't an object you can buy, Bruce. If a woman wants to be someone's little housewife, or a neurosurgeon, they have the freedom to choose. Men can't force a decisions on us." 

Bruce nodded. "I respect that. Charlie over there is a big investor in my company. Might not be sticking around for long."

"Well, I don't know how businesses work, but all I gotta say is I'd rather have genuine shareholders than skeevy men that try to sleep with the women who work for you. Number one, less skeevy men, and number two, less lawsuits. Find genuine people. Not scum. Scum shouldn't be rewarded with business." 

Bruce smiled now. "Hey, do you wanna get out of here? Grab dinner? Alfred will make sure everything goes smooth from here, looks like you chased Joker away so there shouldn't be any problems tonight."

I pursed my lips. I wasn't really interested in getting dinner with this man, but I was definitely interested in leaving this god awful charity event. "Yeah, sure." I shrugged as I followed him to the elevator. 

"Meet me at the front?" He asked. "I have to make my big speech, and then I'll be downstairs," he handed me his car keys. "I won't be longer than five minutes."

I frowned, eyeing the keys, then him. "You seriously trust me to hold onto these?"

He shrugged. "You said so yourself, 'Jean.' You don't care for this lifestyle. Why would you want my car?"

I nodded with a smirk. "Ah, a man who listens. That's admirable." I walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the bottom floor, I bit my lip and sighed. Might as well call Charlotte. I was, in fact, alone in the elevator.

I took my phone out and found her contact. I pressed the device to my ear after pressing send.

"Hello?" She asked after the second ring.

"So I didn't do this intentionally, but I think I'm on a date with Bruce Wayne." I sighed.

"What?" She screamed. "The billionaire?"

"Yeah, I'm not interested, but he gave me an offer to be his bodyguard at this stupid charity event, I said yes, and then he asked if I wanted to leave the lame event after Joker came in and tried to mess the party up. I got him to leave, though. So. . . .Job well done, and I guess Bruce was impressed. So. Yeah. He knows I'm not interested."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I turned down this rich bitch because of his money. Bruce saw. I explained why I didn't like him to Bruce, too. So. Yeah."

Charlotte chuckled. "Wow, that's a new one."

"Well," I leaned against the wall. "He was arrogant." I pursed my lips. "When this is all over, Char, I'm going back to Joker." 

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

"I've thought about it, and yes. I love him. In his fucked up mind, what he did was justified. But I'm not going to go back until he does something to show me that I'm not just a trophy for him. I'm no one's trophy. I'm my own trophy."

"Preach, girl. Well, I gotta go. Edward's making me dinner, and it sounds like he's angry at the oven," she started giggling. "He hates not knowing how things work."

"Oh, trust me, him and I have definitely gotten into a few scuffles," I spoke, then snickered. "Oh, ask him about the time he tried to steal the jeweled cat from Catwoman at The Lynx Museum and History Center. I happened to be there for the ruby crown." I started to laugh at the memory, remembering Catwoman ferociously clawing at Nigma as he squeaked in surprise and tried whacking her on the face with his cane. God, it was a circus in there. The doors of the elevator opened. "I gotta go as well. See you!"

"I'll definitely ask him about that story. See you, have fun!" 

I smiled and hung up, I gave the valet the car keys as he went to go fetch Bruce's vehicle, and leaned against a planter as I waited for Bruce.

I wondered if I should tell Joker I'm looking for a sign, or if it'd be wiser to just wait for one.