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On one level I’ve always admired Lana’s audaciousness, her talent for diving headfirst into whatever life throws her way, yet still managing to come up roses. But sometimes I just don’t get her.
Actually, I just don’t get anyone who’s that enthusiastic about sex. I mean, it’s nice and all, but what’s thebig fucking deal?
“Wipe that judgmental look off your face, Ava Sterling,” Lana laughs, pulling on her floral Jimmy Choo platforms.
I consider pointing out she forgot to put on panties and a bra, but then I realize that’s the point.
“I… well, you guys, you know what my… issue is.”
Lana slings an arm around my shoulders while we head out, leaving the Italian stallion on his own. “Look, honey. Sex is like wine. You have to develop a taste for it.”
“Av, we know you’re the only sex columnist in the world who really isn’t into sex. And your secret is safe with us. But girl, what are you gonna do about it? Just keep… living this double life?”
Yeah, no. She has a point. Thisdouble life, as she calls it, is not cutting it.
“Honey, why don’t you make use of one of those vibrators the sex toy companies send you all the time? They’re free, for Christ’s sake!” Lana says.
“I… I don’t… know,” I stammer.
We squeeze into the backseat of a cab. The driver has a hard time taking his eyes off Lana, but she doesn’t notice. In fact, she doesn’t even lower her voice, speaking as if the three of us were in the cab alone.
She lectures me in her usual booming voice. “It’s very nice how you share the sex toys with the rest of the office, Av, leaving them in the break room next to the coffee and donuts, but it’s time for you to take one or two of them for yourself. You gotta get yourself off, girl,” she says like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
The cabbie swerves. Lana still does not notice.
“If you wanna surf, you gotta get in the ocean, honey,” she says, patting my knee. “I suggest you pick out the vibe you like best, take it home, and see what happens. Oh, and turn on some porn. That’s where I learned all about pegging…”
While Lana drones on about her sexual prowess, I know what I need to do. I’ve known for a long time. But I still don’t understand why everyone places so much importance on sex. It’s nice and all, but people are justsoobsessed with it.
Lana would say I don’t understand because I haven’t experienced a mind-blowing orgasm that will surely get me hooked.
What she doesn’t know is that I haven’t had an orgasm at all.
It’s true. I’ve never had my own Big O.
Not even a little O.
My deepest shame and darkest secret.
I mean, how the hell can I advise others when I don’t know what I’m doing?
And for how much longer can I fake it? Both literally and figuratively… especially after I saw what happened to Danny.
* * *
3
AVA
Glisten’sglass-walled conference room is buzzing with a predictably attractive mix of fashion writers, beauty editors, and a host of others who contribute their creativity and wise words to the magazine. We greet each other politely as we clamor for the best seat, arranging ourselves with notepads and pens poised to take notes on the wise words that come out of Glenda’s mouth.
For as long as I’ve been here, it’s been an unwritten rule that the chair next to the head of the table, where Glenda sits, is reserved for the most senior member of staff. But today, that seat, normally Danny’s, sits glaringly empty. No one’s even looking at it, never mind sitting in it, as if his dismissal is some sort of catching virus that might infect the rest of us.
Glenda whirlwinds into the room with fresh lipstick and a great flourish, smiling brightly at the team that, as she says, ‘putGlistenon the map,’ and oh, by the way, has made her a fortune.
She doesn’t say that last part about the fortune. It’s just something we all know.
“Hello, everyone,” she says graciously, as if the meeting were optional but we figured we’d attend for the hell of it. “Lana, glad you could make it. Your cheeks are bright and pink! I knew you needed chicken soup.”
