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But how do I ease my way out?
Cami’s finishing up her second martini. If I don’t call it a night, a third martini will be ordered, the night will go super-late, I’ll have to listen to Cami bitch about her husband even more, and we’ll both feel like shit at work tomorrow.
“Hey, before we go, what’s up with you?” she asks.
I’ve been wanting to tell her so badly. So I do. Sort of.
“I… have had an interesting last couple weeks.”
She slaps her hand on the table. “Oh my God. Which Craigslist guy did you get together with? Is that who sent you the flowers?”
Her eyes are wide, begging for the story.
I decide to keep details to a minimum. “Well… I’ve actually been withthreeguys.”
“No. Fucking. Way.”
I nod.
“And… the results?” she demands.
I give her a thumbs up. “Victory.”
She screams so loudly the entire bar looks our way. “That’s… oh my God! You’re going to fall in love. Mark my words.”
Her crazy theory aside, I nod proudly. Itisa relief. Seriously. Now all I have to do is put the finishing touches on my column. No one will ever know my first Big O was had only a couple weeks ago. The world will continue to believe I am the orgasmic creature I’ve always pretended to be.
Cami grabs my hands. “Was it everything you hoped it would be?”
Where to begin?
I just smile. There really are no words. Well, aside from the words I put on the page forGlistenmagazine.
“It was freaking awesome,” I finally say.
“Are you gonna see them again? Oh my God, I’m so jealous. Why did I get married?” she whines.
Here comes the sticky part. The less she knows, the better it will be for everyone.
“Um, I might see them again. You never know,” I lie.
Of course, I will see them again. We work for the same parent company, and I freaking live with one of them. But, will Ireallysee them again? Like naked? Erect? Sweating? Groaning? Calling my name…?
* * *
39
AVA
I don’t knowhow to break up with someone.
I’ve never done it before.
Some street cred I’ve got, being a sex and relationship guru. God, I’m just as much a phony as Danny was.
At least he landed a job, I heard through the grapevine. Martha Stewart’s team was so flattered he was stealing their shit that they hired him. Guess there’s no one left to copy once you’re working for her.
So while I don’t knowpreciselyhow to proceed, I’m figuring it out on the fly. Or trying to.
