I wobbled in my heels, shocked by how easily he’d stolen my upper hand.
“That’s not what I meant,” I managed.
Mal smiled. “I know,” he said, just as my driver pulled in front of the restaurant. His thumb swept over my knuckles, and I thought of what he’d said earlier, how a touch like this could be better than sex. Then, after confirming the identity of my driver, he opened the back door. “Have a good night, Jo.”
Chapter Ten
Mal
A week before Portia graced him with a formal goodbye, Mal returned from a trip to Missouri City to visit his parents to find that his girlfriend had disappeared. Her side of the closet cleared, her endless pomades and lotions and conditioners gone from the bathroom, her phone going straight to voicemail and then disconnecting altogether. Her existence in his life scrubbed so thoroughly that, for the first few days, he’d thought he might have just imagined the past ten years of their life together. The only evidence of his new reality was a note written on a Post-it and left on the coffee table. I’m sorry. I’m a coward. I can’t do this anymore.He’d picked it up so many times that the paper grew waterlogged with his sweat. Portia had left him before, but usually explosively, impulsively. Within hours she was back at their door, begging for another chance that he invariably gave.
This time was different. This time, when she left, it was for good.
Portia’s biggest complaint had been his lack of focus. To Portia, the time Mal spent tinkering with the story he’d started beforethey met ought to have gone into networking, scheduling more shoots, amassing more clients. If only she’d stuck around for six months longer. She would have seen him sell his “waste of time” to a major publisher. If she’d given him two years after that, she would have watched him settle at a long conference table in a glass high-rise with the CEO of a production company, her executive producer, and (over a video call) his literary agent to discuss adapting his “waste of time” for the screen. To think said CEO was Renata Kovalenko, whom Portia had only ever seen staring back at her through the pages of an editorial magazine and had once dubbed the “most beautiful human on earth.”
To think that he was doing all of this while surreptitiously messaging a different woman about a potential photoshoot under the guise of taking notes.
The subject is a bit unorthodox,Jo qualified.So before I tell you what it is, you have to say you’ll do the shoot for me.
Suspicious, but I’m intrigued, so sure,Mal typed back, just as Amelia asked whether En Garde envisionedDuskas more of a film or a limited series.
I’ll take that as a yes. Let me send you the brief.
“We want to make sure we give this project enough breathing room to do it justice,” Renata’s executive producer, Rudy, a man with impeccable posture and an even better fashion sense, was saying. “So definitely more of a limited series.”
“Unless you have your heart set on a film,” Renata interjected. It took Mal a few seconds to understand that she was waiting for his response.
“Um...” he said, looking from Renata to Rudy, then at his laptop screen at Amelia, whose eyes were narrowed ever so slightly. “I don’t think I mind. Whatever you guys think is best.”
A message from Jo appeared on his screen: a photograph. Mal’s eyes widened, and he resisted the impulse to slap his laptop shut.
“Everything all right?” Rudy asked, peering over his thin-framed glasses to give Mal a look.
“Yes,” Mal said a bit too quickly. “Sorry. I just can’t believe we’re having this conversation at all, actually. Just need to shake myself off.”
Another message appeared on his screen, this time a private one from Amelia:Dude, you are so distracted.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” Renata said from the head of the table. Ironic, Mal thought, considering she’d probably been leaving people tongue-tied for most of her life. “We’re celebrating your work.”
“I’ll try not to be,” Mal said. The image Jo had sent him was seared into his brain. It was just so...big. Unwieldy, really. The moment attention shifted away from him, he opened up her message again, staring at the image of the ten-inch curved vibrator that Jo had sent him.
Read the brief and let me know what you think,she said.
The brief was short: the company, Heavenly Vibes, wanted a professional-quality video, a carousel of photographs, and six months of ad rights of Jointeracting withtheir newest product. In a separate tab, Mal looked up the company, then quickly clicked out when a video of a woman, um,testinga product popped up on his page.
I don’t think I’m the best person to do this,Mal confessed.I’ve done boudoir photography before, but I think this is out of my comfort zone.
Oh my. Where is your mind going?Jo typed back.You really are a pervert.
Amelia and Rudy were starting to talk money.
“I’ll be honest. We’re getting a lot of interest right now,” Amelia was saying. “When can we expect you to be ready with an offer?”
Mal closed his messenger app, forcing himself to pay attention. He fielded questions about the cast—the main character, Iris, was a young Black woman with albinism, and it was important to Mal that they found an actress with the same condition—and tried to stem his excitement when Rudy announced that they would be in contact within a week with the paperwork.
“Wonderful,” Renata said, standing. Then, smoothing down the front of her dress, added, “Well, this is when I must kick you all out. My son is bringing me lunch and will be here any minute.”
Rudy stood as well, waving to Amelia on his laptop screen.
