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“No, Dave. I approached her first,” I admit. “I lied to you in the beginning about having a girlfriend and happened to run into Charlotte on the same day that I came up with the lie—who I actually do know from back home. After some careful manipulation, she agreed to the scam because it was ultimately helping her out with her mother.”
He nods in understanding. “I was wondering. From what I knew of you prior to Charlotte, it surprised me to hear that you were in a committed relationship.”
“I surprised myself by telling the lie,” I joke.
Dave shakes his head. “You know, this leaves me in a complicated position, Damien. You lied to get ahead.”
“I know. And I understand if you don’t want to allow me the opportunity to pitch anymore, but please don’t punish Jeffrey for my decisions.”
“But he went along with it…”
“I know, but he didn’t lie.”
Dave stays silent for a few moments, and I have no idea what is going through his mind. But then he says, “Let me ask you something…”
“Okay.”
“Did being with Charlotte—in whatever facet you were—change your view on women?”
I answer without hesitation. “Undoubtedly. Not only when it comes to dealing with a menstrual cycle—which is far more complicated than I ever realized—but more than that; it changed the way I valued companionship, in having a partner who felt equal to me, but also, that I felt protective over. Charlotte has been dealing with issues with her mom for years and pressure from society that I know men don’t experience in the same way. And watching her battle all that was difficult. I don’t know how she balances it all—her career, her friendships, her emotions—and still walks around with a smile on her face…”
“You love her,” he says, smiling over at me.
“I do. Fuck, I really fucking do.” I lean forward in my chair, bracing my forearms on my knees, struggling to come to grips with how horribly fucked up this all got. “But things didn’t end well in Hawaii, and right now, we’re not speaking.”
“Then I say you learned your lesson.” Dave stands, buttoning his coat back up. “Be ready for the pitch tomorrow. I can’t wait to see what you came up with.”
I look up at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yup. But do me a favor? When the pitch is over, go get your girl. Tell her what you just told me, and don’t let her go again.” He nods as he walks toward the door but then turns back around with an afterthought. “You know, Erin and I would really love to have you two over again once you figure everything out.”
I sit back in my chair, debating how honest I should be with him. “I appreciate that Dave, but I’m not sure that Charlotte and I are into the same things you and your wife are.”
His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Charlotte and I know about your extra-curricular activities, and I’m not one to judge, but that is not something we are open to. I mean, hell, I don’t even know if she still wants to be with me at this point.”
“I’m sorry, Damien, but I’m confused. What are you talking about?”
“The pineapples,” I say, widening my eyes.
“You and Charlotte don’t like pineapples?”
“No.” I breathe out before finally saying, “Charlotte and I aren’t interested in swinging with you and your wife, Dave.”
His eyes bug out, and then he leans forward slightly like he’s about to fall over from shock. “What? What on earth would make you think that?”
“Uh, you have a pineapple on your front porch, which is like the universal sign of swingers, and your wife was carrying around a pink dildo the second we left your house that night. We saw her through the window.” Dave continues to stand there, perplexed. “As I said, I’m not one to judge, but if you like that sort of thing…”
“Oh God, Damien! It’s not what you think! First of all, my wife just really likes pineapples. We got that stupid thing in Hawaii when we went a few years ago, and then she sort of just started collecting things with pineapples on it.” He tugs on his hair as he runs a hand through it. “Shit. Is that really true?”
“Yeah, that’s what Charlotte said.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters.
“Well, what about the dildo that Erin was holding then?”
“Erin started doing these passion parties—that’s what she calls them, at least. She sells sex toys to her friends and has to test them out first. I mean, it’s fun for me,” he says, bouncing his eyebrows, “but I’m sure that’s what you saw through the window when you guys left. She uses the front room to show the girls and likes to close the drapes for privacy, naturally. The guys and I just end up playing poker and drinking. We all have a good time and then go home, and everyone enjoys the stuff the girls buy from Erin.”
“Holy shit.” I slink back in my chair once more. “I am so fucking sorry, Dave.”
“Clearly, you got the wrong idea, and I’m sorry too, Damien. I swear, the only woman I have sex with is my wife.”
“Good to know.”
Uncomfortable silence descends upon my office as I wait to see what I should say next. That conversation just turned incredibly awkward in a hot minute.
“Okay, well, glad we got that squared away,” Dave says, shuffling on his feet toward the door. “As I said, make your pitch tomorrow as planned, and then go get your girl.”
“Will do. Thanks for being understanding.”
“Hey, I’m a man too. I know we do dumb shit all the time. It’s how we make up for it that matters.”
* * *
