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“… he was a beautiful man. He really was, a sort of combination of James Bond mixed with Fabio. You know, tall, dark, and dangerously sexy. Rich, so very rich. And his accent, oh my! I never did find out where he was from, but oh, did he love me. He showered me with gifts, including my very first Louis Vuitton bag. And of course, many, many orgasms.”
She puts her hand over her heart and pulls the bag out from behind her, turning it so we can view it from all sides like a rotating display in a museum.
Cami and I ooh and aah, because that’s clearly what she’s shooting for, even though I’ve never understood the appeal of Louis Vuitton bags, with their poop-brown colors and plasticky feel. And yet everyone in New York has them.
“So pretty,” I say to be polite. “Sounds like a nice guy.”
Her gaze snaps in my direction, her eyes narrowing. “Nice? No, never use that word for a man. He was as good-looking as Adonis, and his penis was—”
I hold my hands up. “Lan, I really don’t think we need to hear about your man’s junk—”
“Nonsense!” she sings, drowning out my protest. “God, he was good, and he could last for hours. I would orgasm a dozen, even two-dozen times…”
Holy shit? Is that even possible?
What aboutme, universe? Don’t I deserve some of this pleasure?
The rapt attention we’re paying her only eggs her on. “So, we just finished the photo shoot for this little lady,” she says, caressing the curves of her poop-brown plastic bag. “They captured her perfectly. She’s still young at heart, with just a little wear and tear. Just like we will be someday, ladies, right?”
* * *
14
AVA
After Lana wanders off,dreaming of her erstwhile lover, Cami and I get back down to business while I scroll absentmindedly through email and fight off a pang of self-pity. I wouldn’t having minded getting back to work, but when Cami is focused on something, there’s no redirecting her.
“You know, Av,” she says slowly, “you have that handsome roommate, not to mention his friends. And did you see how the one in the white button-down, who couldn’t take his eyes off you? I think his name is Ethan? God, that teeny bit of grey at his temples is so hot.”
Ugh. Still kicking myself for not thinking faster and blowing him off. He caught me so off-guard when he mentioned ‘elderly,’ that I sort-of agreed before I could even think. I mean, how could I turn my back on getting together with elderly people? I would have come off as the world’s biggest creep.
But he sure is good-looking, she’s not wrong. Almost more handsome than Jasper, who seems to melt the panties off every woman he meets. And their other friend. What was his name, the one with the perfect Harry Styles hair?
Leo?
“Cam, you know those guys who work down atSports Inc. are just a bunch of jocks.Sonot my type. And Jasper thinks he’s all that with that stupid motorcycle.”
She grabs my upper arm. Hard. “That’s just the thing, Av, they’re low-hanging fruit. Easy. You don’t have to do any work. They’re right there in front of you, ripe for the picking. You can get in and get out, andpoof!Problem solved. Never talk to them again. You’re pretty and have a vagina. That’s all guys like that require.”
She has a point.
“If I get together with one of them and don’t get my Big O, think what a mess that will be. All awkward and stuff.”
“Nonsense,” she insists. “Times are different now. If a woman wants to get laid, she has the right to go out, pick a guy, and get her rocks off, just like men have been doing since—well, forever. See, you’re not looking to get married. You just need someone to fuck you properly.”
Right.
The ugly truth of what she’s saying is a wakeup call. No sense overthinking it. Just line up some guy andboom, I’m back in business. Or should be, God willing.
“And you know, those guys aren’t quite the bottom dwellers you make them out to be. They’re nice looking, have good jobs. Decent manners. The whole nine yards. I think you’re ruling them out because you’re going to ruleanyguy out.”
“That’s not true,” I say defensively. “It’s just that if I mess around with my roommate, it will be so weird. We’re not friends, and honestly, I don’t like him all that much. He’s pretty much just a big old dudebro man-whore.”
“Oh, Ava, live a little. Who knows, maybe sparks will fly. Maybe you’ll have your Big O and fall in love.”
I roll my eyes dramatically. “Dating roommates, or sleeping with them, is a bad idea. It’s like playing Russian roulette with your living situation. Just what I need, a conflict with the person I share one of the best apartment deals in all of Manhattan with. I can’t jeopardize that.”
No, I don’t want to be friends with Jasper, never mind getting sexy with him.
