Page 19 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Totally agree.” He’s wise beyond his years. “Any other burning questions for me?”

“Tons. Heaps. Multitudes.”

Ugh. I love talking to him, but I keep waiting for him to ask me my bra size like everyone else does.

I brace myself for the inevitable. “Go ahead.”

He takes a moment, then asks, “Favorite movie?”

“The Princess Bride.” Is there another choice? My dad would say Star Wars, but he’s wrong. Fucking Ewan McGregor. Dad also loves movies and all things Scottish, hence my name, Kaitlin Eóghann MacGregor, and yes, Eóghann is pronounced the same as Ewan. He got away with it because my mom isn’t into movie stars. I could have been Kaitlin Leia MacGregor, but noooooo, couldn’t do that. Had to get cute. Ugh.

“Good choice, Kait. Favorite brand of peanut butter? There is a correct answer here.” There’s relief when I accept that he’s not judging me. Never really has, as far as I can tell. I can cope with these questions.

“Jif. Preferably crunchy.”

“Well, we certainly can be friends.”

Indignant, I reply, “You help a guy sleep for months and months, and peanut butter is why we can be friends?” It’s my most offended voice, affront oozing from my words, but I’m amused. “Freaking peanut butter?”

“Of course I think of you as a friend,” he says. He knows I’m giving him a hard time from the levity in his tone. “Take tonight, as an example. I’m sleepy, I could fall asleep in ten minutes if I closed the curtains, but I’m standing here enjoying a magnificent view of the Eiffel Tower glowing against the night sky and talking to you because you make this better. I thought I’d learn to fall asleep on my own and we’d talk less, but I enjoy our conversations too much. The City of Lights, like everything else, is better with you.”

For a second—maybe the first time in my entire existence—I’m speechless and struggle to respond. “That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Henry.” It may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

“If that’s the case, I’ll do better. Thank you for taking such good care of me. You’re not just a welcome addition to my life, but a friend. You’re wonderful.” Swoony McSwoonsalot shall be my new phone ho name.

“Henry Sterling, you’re the sweetest unicorn I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.”

“Is the sweetest unicorn synonymous with only unicorn?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Nope. Finest, bestest, number uno unicorn. It’s not a quality measure; it’s a rarity thing. We have one guy who likes to call and moan when we say hello, then hang up like fifty times in a row because actual humans answer our phones, so he’s unique but not someone I hope will call. You, on the other hand, are pure gold. Or should I say Sterling silver? You’re my favorite.”

“I’m your favorite unicorn? That’s kind.”

“No, favorite caller.” I haven’t thought about it in those terms before, but it’s true. He does get special treatment. Henry never waits for his turn in line. Even if he’s third, I talk to him first. Owner’s privilege. “Although that might change. I have an important question for you. Well, two, actually.”

His footsteps are quiet in the background. Pacing? “Okay, I’ve braced myself. Lay it on me.”

“One, what’s your middle name, and two, Miracle Whip or mayonnaise? There is a correct answer.”

He stops pacing. “Uh, no, and mayonnaise?”

“You officially remain my favorite caller.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment, starts, then stops.

“I’ve never had a favorite caller before, yet here we are,” I say, glad he can’t see my face pinking up.

“I’ve never had a favorite phone sex operator before, but here we are. There’s no one I’d rather spend hours talking to than you. Julian, closest friend and the other half of my office, says my voicemail message should be ‘why are you calling when an email or text will do?’”

I pretend I’m not all atwitter at his words. “That’s all quite interesting, Mr. Sterling, but again with the avoidance. Your honor, the witness is avoiding the question. Permission to treat the witness as hostile?”

“Hate to break it to you, babes, but it’s frowned upon to treat your own witness as hostile. It can be done, but it’s a little unusual.”

Babes. I like it.

“Why won’t you tell me? Is it a terrible name, like Henry Gertrude Sterling? Or Henry Booger-Fart Sterling? Hyphenated, of course.”

He lets out a bark of laughter. “No, it’s more you always get your way, and I’m doing men everywhere a service by depriving you of something you want for a change.”