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“OK,” I say, jumping up off the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Cupcake, you are in no way ignorable. Totally a word,” I say, fanning through her closet. “And it’s time you stopped trying to hide.”
“Seriously. What are you doing?” She reaches for my hand to stop. “You’re gonna mess it up. I have all my stuff color-coded.”
I take her hand, hold her wrist, and look her in the eye. “Hey. Trust me.” She draws her chin back into her neck. “Do you trust me?” She nods, slightly and warily. “Good. Will you let me pick out what you’re gonna wear tomorrow?”
“Why do you want to?”
I take a beat, stroke her cheek, and tell her, “Because. I love beautiful things.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – EDEN
“Good morning, ladies!” I sing out to Charlotte and Lynn at reception when I step off the elevator.
“Good morning, Eden!” they both chime back. But then Charlotte does a double-take and says, “Eden, what are you wearing?”
I twirl for her. Well, not quite twirl. This black pencil skirt Andrew chose for me is so tight at the knees, I have to take ridiculous little baby steps. It’s more of a hop than a twirl. “Do you like it?” I ask, pushing my glasses up my nose. “My boyfriend picked it out this morning.”
I feel justified in calling Andrew my boyfriend. I mean he stayed the night. We had ridiculously hot sex, and he was still there in the morning when I woke up.
Plus, picking an outfit from my closet… that’s reserved for boyfriends only. Casual hook-ups don’t do that.
“Oh, my God, girl,” Lynn says. “You are the sexiest librarian ever.”
“Thank you!” I say.
And it’s not even that far off my usual outfit, either. I mean, OK. The skirt is a bit much. But I have the curves to pull off a pencil skirt, that’s why I bought it in the first place. I just never had the nerve to wear it before. And I’m wearing a crisp, white, button-down shirt, just like I usually do. Except this one is just a little low-cut in the cupcake department.
I don’t normally wear heels but today I’m rocking those babies. They might not be Prada, but they are four inches high and make my calves look fantastic.
Today… I feel like a Sexpert.
I baby-step my way down the hallway, calling out my usual hellos. Sylvia is at the printer and does a double-take too. In fact, everyone is looking at me, and normally that would make me very self-conscious, but ya know what? Doing these Sexpert videos has really upped my self-confidence. I mean, none of it seems so scary anymore. I’ve always been outgoing but I never liked to flaunt my body. I think it goes back to middle school. I developed early, so I had perfect cupcakes by the time I was fourteen. And it was a real bummer back then. I was an athletic child. I did all those years of gymnastics and volleyball. I even ran track for a year. But then, of course, these ginormous mounds on my chest got in the way of everything. And all the boys made rude comments about them.
Until the Sexpert came along my breasts were always something I wanted to hide.
Not anymore.
I don’t want to show them off, exactly, but tastefully accentuating them doesn’t hurt.
I stow away my purse when I get to my desk, then log on and open my email.
“Oh,” I say, noticing I have something from Zoey.
Reminder! Stevie Is Turning One! the headline reads.
Oh, shit! I almost forgot about that. She sent out invitations weeks ago, so I wasn’t expecting another one in this reminder, but there’s a link to click.
When I do, a fabulous animation begins to play. With upbeat country music, and a little boy wearing cowboy boots line-dancing with a little cowgirl, and a whole bunch of confetti spilling across my screen.
And at the end there’s a message from Zoey. I know I already sent out those boring plain-text email invitations, but so many good things have happened to us since then, I wanted to resend and make it all spectacular! Please come to our party tomorrow at noon to celebrate Stevie’s first birthday!
Wow. She’s right. So many good things have happened to us. The Sexpert is going crazy. And the numbers haven’t stopped climbing. They just keep going up. Even the Kit-Kat video has almost half a million views now.
Hmmmm. I wonder… maybe Andrew would like to go to the party with me? I mean, Zoey is my BFF. If we’re going to be a thing, he should meet her. So I forward it to him and add a little message asking if he’d like to come along.
I don’t expect a quick answer, but less than five minutes later, he replies. Like he’s been waiting for me to email, or call, or text or something.
