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“Are you looking to get into journalism?”
“Not exactly.”
She waits.
I say nothing.
“Not exactly?” she repeats, encouraging me to elaborate.
“More writing stuff.”
“Oh, what about copywriting? We need people to write ad copy, corporate literature, stuff like that.”
“I mean, I could… I’ve done a bit of that but I’m actually looking at fiction-writing,” I say and feel like my face is on fire suddenly. I haven’t talked about this to anybody. Not a soul. And I realize how crazy it sounds.
“Really? That’s amazing. I read constantly.”
“It feels like a bit of a pipe dream but, yeah, it’s the longer game goal. I was working for Aiden, doing nearly full-time at a coffee cart as a barista, and I had another personal shopping client for a little while, but that ended just before the gig with you and Aiden did. And then something went wrong there and the coffee cart guy didn’t pay me – the cart just up and disappeared and that messed me up and got me evicted. All I have right now is the writing gigs I do for a freelance website and it’s not super-steady.”
“What kinds of gigs?”
“Random stuff people ask for. I have a profile set up and people approach me, or I bid on jobs in the marketplace. A couple people have paid me to write business letters, love letters, product descriptions for online stores, a few obituaries. Some guy had me write his mother’s obit and then offered me a gig to write some kinky stuff and …”
Her eyes widen.
Here goes nothing. “Aiden’s not in earshot is he?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “He’s napping. I’m out by the pool by myself. Nobody’s around.”
“Well,” I drawl, and Carly has moved in closer to her screen, like the plot has thickened.
“Well, so, I almost turned the gig down but decided to just try it – the whole site is anonymous, I just have a screen name. And it was kind of fun, so then he paid me to do two more of these short erotic stories and it stirred something up in me, so I want to see about expanding on that. It was fun and I’ve done a bit of research. I think there’s a market for it.”
Carly is smiling. “Erotica.”
I shrug. “Is that crazy? I looked online and I’m thinking about self-publishing. It seems like there’s an audience for it.”
“It’s awesome. Own your sexuality, girlfriend.”
I laugh. “All I’ve got for sexuality are the things I write down. Not exactly any real action happening in my life, so…”
“Well, never say never. Look at me. I went to San Diego right after getting dumped for being too boring, looking to start fresh and here I am just months later with a great career and a sexy husband who loves me. And girlie, I’m getting all kinds of action. Amazing action.”
I bark out a laugh. “I bet you are.”
God, it’s been a long time since I’ve laughed.
“Gotta say, I had a huge crush on him while I worked for him, before you… obviously now that’s over.”
“That was obvious,” she says, smiling. “The first time we met, I knew. And I mean, how can you not find him at least attractive? Aiden is nice to look at, even if he sometimes ruins it by opening his mouth.”
I cough out another laugh, doubling over. She laughs too.
“It’s what I do. Carry torches, have crushes, and never do anything about them.” I shrug. “I haven’t had a serious boyfriend in three years.”
“What happened? What ended it?”
“He died,” I say softly.
And then my chin wobbles.
I manage to push it back before I break into ugly sobs.
She gasps.
“Car accident,” I explain. “He just got a new car. A fast one. He died in a head-on collision late one night after sneaking out of my room. He was driving too fast, lost control of the car. The person in the other car died, too.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I shrug. “Me too. We dated for three years. We dated in semi-secret because a) he was friends with my brother and a couple years older than me but that was for the first two years. The last year, Shane knew and seemed okay after an initial blow-up. And b) because he was black, and my father is a racist, so Dad had no idea the whole time.”
She swallows and shakes her head, her eyes brimming with sadness.
“It was hard. All that sneaking around. He was sweet and so smart, and I felt like he loved me. And then I couldn’t hide my pain when he died, and my brother was there for me, but Dad was less than supportive while I grieved. My father was so awful about it, so disappointed in me. Even hit Shane for letting me and Josh happen. I moved out. And because I moved out and had to support myself, I had to quit school temporarily. Temporarily two and a half years ago.” I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be this long. Ugh. Sorry, I’m a bummer.”
