“For fuck’s sake, it’s a bloody washing-powder commercial. For washing your clothes. With powder. You would think we’re shooting an Oscar contender here. How’s everyone? I need a drink.” Charlie waved her hand in the air and summoned the waitress while we all listened to her work stories and consoled her, telling her she was the best talent agent any of us knew.
“What have I missed?” she asked.
“I’m thinking of going on a dating detox,” I said quickly.
Charlie eyed me while nodding her head, she had this habit of nodding while she thought. I loved it.
“This guy from work has decided to be single for a while and now he’s doing transcendental meditation and running all these marathons—so good for him.”
“God, that sounds fucking awful,” Frank groaned.
“He seems happy,” Charlie shot back.
“Anyone who’s running a marathon and doing transcendental meditation as a substitute for not having sex isnothappy,” Frank fired back and soon he and Charlie were having one of their very frequent debates. They had always done this with each other, like some kind of sibling bickering, but they always made up in the end.
I sat back and watched them all. God, I loved my friends. If it wasn’t for them, I don’t think I would have made it this far. They’d become my family over the years, which I was grateful for, since I was seriously lacking in the family department.
“I’m going for a quick stress vape round back,” Charlie announced, and stood up. Whenever she was stressed, she vaped, which was basically all the time. “And don’t you all look at me like that. I said I’ll give it up, just not now!” She raced off, not waiting to hear more of our objections.
“Maximillian Adam.”
I swung round at the sound of the familiar name. It was being spoken from a table in the corner, where two of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen were sitting. My curiosity was definitely piqued. I leaned back in my chair to listen and then gave my friends the “I’m eavesdropping” gesture we’d come up with years ago. They all nodded and lowered the volume of their conversations with each other. Frank, who was sitting next to me, was the only one who leaned along with me.
“Who we listening to?” he whispered.
“Gorgeous probably models in the corner.”
He nodded and adjusted his chair, casually creeping closer to them.
“Apparently he made Star come ten times!”
Frank and I clocked each other with wide eyes and I had to stifle a gasp. We both leaned back even more.
“Seriously?” the hot one with the amazing breasts said.
“She even said she squirted. She’s never squirted. Can you believe that?”
Frank turned and mouthed “Oh my God” to me.
“You know he also went out on a date with Bianca, right?” one of them said.
“Oh my God, what did Bianca say?”
“You can’t tell anyone this—she told me in confidence.”
“Of course I won’t.”
Frank and I rolled our eyes at each other knowingly. “Bianca said he made her pass out. Literally. She fell over and lost consciousness from all the orgasms, and then she had to beg him to stop!”
“Fuuuck!” the other one said.
“She said it was the best sex she’s ever had in her entire life, and we all know how much Bianca gets around. If anyone knows what good sex is, it’s her.” The girls at the table laughed cattily.
“I heard a rumor he was a tantric sex practitioner, or something like that.”
“Like Sting?” the one with the amazing breasts asked. “Doesn’t Sting do tantra? I think I read an article about that somewhere. It doesn’t surprise me, though. Star said he lasted hours, literal hours. She had a limp the next day on the catwalk.”
“Holy crap!”
