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“Oh, I’m glad we did this,” she exclaims, stretching her legs out under the table so that they pass in between mine. “I was ready to kill Arnauld, and now I barely give a fuck about him and his agenda.”
“Agenda?” I ask, too curious to stay quiet.
She rubs her hands over her face and moans.
I take a long sip of my drink before setting it back on the table near hers. “What did he do? It must have been bad to get you so upset.”
She plops a green olive in her mouth and watches me as if she’s trying to decide whether to tell me a secret or not.
“He tried to whore me out.”
I grip the edge of the table and my back goes rigid. “What? Did I hear you right? You have to explain what you mean by that.”
“Okay, I’ve told you that we have an open relationship, right?”
“Yes.” That’s one bit of information I’ll never forget.
“Well, we had our network meeting today and they’ve been working us over hard, both with content and budgets. It’s so aggravating to always feel like you’re on your knees for them…at their mercy in every way.”
This is a side of the business I never hear about, and from the sounds of it I’m lucky to be shielded from it.
“So the key decision maker, Stephen, is this prick with a bad comb-over. And lucky girl that I am, Stephen seems to have a thing for me. The looks he gives me during meetings are so inappropriate. He’s even suggested that we go out a few times to ‘go over business’ but I always turn him down.” Her hands curl into fists and press into the table. “Arnauld knows all this; he knows how I feel about him.”
My stomach’s churning, and our waitress brings over our second round. I take another long sip, as does Brooke.
“So the meeting ends, and as I’m packing up, Stephen slithers over to me and asks me to lunch. I lie and tell him that I have a lunch meeting with Arnauld and our directors. The words have just left my mouth when Arnauld jumps in and assures me, in front of Stephen, that they will be fine without me and to go ahead and have a nice time with Stephen.”
“He threw you under the bus,” I say quietly, anger in my voice.
“And removed my panties before he did,” she agrees, disgustedly.
“So Stephen says he will meet me in the hallway after a pit stop, and Arnauld pulls me aside and encourages me to charm him into getting the deal through.”
“Hell no, what did you say?”
She leans forward into her drink and sighs. “I was so stu
“I understand,” I say sympathetically. “When I’m surprised I’m dumbstruck, that is my reaction more times than not.”
“And I got to spend the next two hours listening to Stephen talk about himself and avoiding his slimy advances.”
“Are you okay?” I ask, worry etched across my face.
“Yeah, but it was nasty. I had to abandon polite Brooke early on, but of course he liked that challenge. I did everything to dissuade him but kick him in the balls. That ass is persistent. And it’s beyond me how any of that could have helped Sketch Republic’s cause. The whole thing made me sick to my stomach. I will never be put in that position again.”
“I’m so sorry.” I look down and feel so frustrated that I can’t do anything to take that memory away. “So what are you going to do now to Arnauld? Let’s think of something deserving of the offense,” I say determinedly.
“Something really evil,” she agrees. But just then her phone vibrates telling her that she has a new text and I can see on the screen that it’s Arnauld trying to reach her.
“Where are you?” she reads off the screen. She laughs and then slowly types the answer. “Exactly where I want to be.” After hitting send, she looks at the phone and curses, “Fuck you, Arnauld.”
I smile, hoping she really means that. She turns and looks at me. “Have I ever told you that his real name isn’t Arnauld…it’s Arnold?”
“Arnold?” I choke out, almost spitting up my drink.
“Yeah, isn’t that rich? I discovered his high school yearbook once and found his picture. I called him Arnold once when we were having a fight and he stormed off like a big baby.” She grins.
A second later her phone prompts again.
She reads his response aloud. “What are you doing?” Her fingers fly over the text keys to respond. I imagine I can see the steam rising out of her ears like what happens to Yosemite Sam when Bugs Bu
“I thought you knew. I’m bending over. If he fucks me again I really think I’ll be able to close this deal.”
Why did she have to read that to me? It makes me sick and yet arouses me at the same time. I’m in pain, and I down the rest of my drink. The room tilts as a result.
She reads his response with a mock angry face. “That isn’t fu
“No, it really isn’t,” she types while reading aloud, then shuts off her phone. She waves for the waitress, who comes over warily. “Another round, please.”
You go, Buttercup!
I sit quietly wondering what to say. Finally I offer my best idea. “You want me to beat him up? My brother, who’s looks like the Incredible Hulk, would help and it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“You’re so thoughtful, and for the record that’s really hot.”
“I mean it,” I say. I want her to understand I mean business.
“I know you do and that means a lot to me. Still I have to say no, but thanks. Look, I’m a little loaded and enjoying venting, but for all my bitching I know he didn’t really want me to sleep with him. Charm him, yes, but not fuck him.”
“It’s still disgusting,” I insist.
“Yes, it is.” Her head drops and we sit silently for a minute before she looks back up. “Look, enough about me. What happened to you today?”
I realize that I shouldn’t tell this story drunk, but I’m overwhelmed with the urge to let out this gnawing frustration.
“Oh, I’m having envy issues. I’m so pathetic.”
“What happened?” she asks sympathetically.
“I had lunch with my brother today. After lunch we stopped at the comic book store, and I introduced him to my friend, Billie. She runs the place and is exceptionally good looking. And of course they had an instant love co
“But I thought you liked Dani, why does him liking Billie, and her liking him, bother you?”
“I don’t know, probably because they’re most likely in bed right now. Women always fall all over Curtis and drag him to bed. He has amazing sex all the time, and I don’t. Things never work out that way for me.”
“Really?” she asks, looking disappointed for me.
“Sorry,” I groan, letting my face falls into my open hands.
“You don’t? What do you mean you don’t? You make it sound like you’ve never had great sex or something.”
I look up at her and blanch as I watch the blood also drain from her face.
“Oh my God,” she chants. “You’re not a virgin, please tell me that you’re not a virgin.”
I’m already the worst kind of loser and I don’t even care how it looks anymore. Defeated I lean into my drink and take another long sip. “Well, technically I may as well be for the lack of fun I’ve had.”
“I don’t understand. Is something wrong with you physically? I would imagine not since you felt more than healthy when you were holding me last night.”
I’m horrified and dumbstruck. I can’t even look her in the eye. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable talking to you about sex, or I mean my lack of hot sex, Brooke. It’s so humiliating.”
“First of all Nathan, I love to talk about sex. It’s my favorite subject. So please don’t be shy.”
She scoots over closer to me and reaches over, putting her hand on my knee. “You have to understand, I was raised by free-love hippy parents who were very open. By the time I was in high school, my mom left a candy jar full of condoms by the front door and tried, to my horror, to show me the best way to perform fellatio on a banana. Hell, all she ever talked about was sex. So there’s nothing you could say that would change what I think of you. This is a subject I’m very comfortable with. Besides, I bet I can help you.”