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Shit. I never should have brought this up.
Lunch ends on a weird note, and I realize I’m just not cool enough to casually talk about sex. Let me hide behind a computer screen, and I can write volumes. But face to face?
I give Aunt Dede the obligatory peck on the cheek, leave our chic eatery, and stop at the first drugstore I pass. With a bag of Hershey Kisses in hand, I head back to the office.
I pop one kiss after the other into my mouth until I’m sick of the taste of milk chocolate and the surface of my desk is littered with little scraps of silver foil. I sweep them into the trash, like I wish I could sweep away lots of other things.
* * *
10
ETHAN
“Guys.I’m this close to throat punching the next douche who digs into my old hoop dreams,” I grouse, my fingers measuring an invisible inch.
“I promise not to ask if you take me to the next Knicks game,” Jasper chides.
I ignore him. He knows I can’t do that. Tickets are for clients. And me, of course. Although one particular client is getting really close to not being invited anymore.
“Dude, how would you feel if someone not only inquired about the single worst thing in your life, but kept digging for more information, even when you politely tried to change the subject? No wonder I have high blood pressure. Thirty-two-year-olds are not supposed to have high blood pressure.”
“Thirty-two-year-olds are not supposed to be as highly-strung as you are, either,” Jasper says.
I flip him off.
“Isn’t this your highest-spending ad account?” Leo asks while I take out my frustration on an elevator button.
We’d been waiting on our floor for way too long.
“These elevators are the worst,” I grumble. “One of the nicest office buildings in Manhattan, and they cheap out on the elevators.”
Jesus, what’s taking so damn long? Fucking lunchtime. Everyone and their brother is going in and out of the building, tying up the elevators. They should build a goddamn zipline.
Jasper knocks my hand away. “Easy, guy. If you break it, we’ll really be stuck.”
He and Leo laugh.
I do not.
“I’m fucking starving too,” I add. Low blood sugar and I do not get along well.
“We’ll get you some food momentarily,” Leo chants and the elevator doors ding open.
Finally.
We’re boarding, the crowd repositioning itself to make room, when I see Jasper turn to three young women. Three very attractive young women.
Probably fromGlisten Magazine. I don’t know what it is about women’s fashion magazines and whether being good-looking is some sort of requirement, but that place is rife with hotties.
Stuck-up hotties, I might add.
I turn back to face the elevator door and watch the floors tick by, counting the seconds until we reach the ground floor.
Someone taps my shoulder.
“Hey, Ethan, I’d like you to meet my roommate, Ava,” Jasper says.
Holy shit. The non-orgasmic sex columnist ofGlisten Magazine? No-orgasm Ava? The woman who can’t get off?
