Page 11 of Fun Together
“You’re twenty-six, not ninety.”
“Okay, but you’ll have to help me. I haven’t had to make come-hither eyes at someone from across the bar since . . . well, ever.”
I met Andrew when I was twenty years old. He was my first real relationship, unless you count my two-month-long courtship with Tanner Davis in tenth grade. I have no idea how to even begin seducing someone.
“Saying ‘come-hither eyes’ does make you sound elderly.”
“Fine, we’ll go out next weekend. But I’m making no promises.”
“I told Minnie about your breakup, and she said that you’ve already been in—” She holds up air quotes. “—good vibration with another man.” She shakes her head. “Although, she told me I was going to marry my high school boyfriend’s older brother, which isdefinitelynot happening, so take it for what it’s worth.”
Her Grandma Minnie’s mild clairvoyance has always been one of those things Rett and I joke about—but nine times out of ten, she’s been spot on. Last year, she told Rett that she was going to come into an influx of cash, and two weeks later, Rett found an old wallet that had a twenty-dollar bill in it.
She opens the bag of chips and grabs a handful. “Had anygood vibrationswith anyone lately?”
My eyes automatically move to my tote bag hanging on the back of a dining chair. I can almost see the vibrator through the package in glowing neon x-ray vision. “Well, technically. . .”
She sits up. “Okay. Spill.”
I tell her about my conversation with Eli after running into him in the elevator. And then about the whole vibrator situation.
“You’ve been sitting on this information all night?”
I swat her away. “It’s not really anything. He’s Andrew’s best friend.”
“Is he hot?”
“He’s Andrew’s best friend,” I repeat.
“So, he is hot.”
I roll my eyes and refuse to neither confirm nor deny Eli’s attractiveness. I’ve been willing my own brain to stop thinking about him since I drove home earlier.
“Maybe Minnie’s right. Seems like you’ve been given a gift from the fun gods.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Why squander their blessing?”
I’ve been havinga face-off with the vibrator on my coffee table since Rett left.
What could it hurt, really? Sure, it was given to me by my boss, but I’m still not convinced it wasn’t all some big mistake. But what if Alexis asks me to report on it on Monday?
I try to get my wine-fogged brain to rationalize the wild idea that Alexis will ask me to give her my opinion on how this product might be good for our employees. I need to be able to be honest about its capabilities, right?
I tear it from the plastic packaging and hold it in my hand. It looks a little bigger than it did before when Eli was holding it. This is easily the nicest one I’ve ever owned. My last one sputtered out its last dying buzz over a year ago.
I lay back on my couch, settling a pillow comfortably behind my back. Phone in one hand and vibrator in the other, I pull up Pornhub. An alert pops up asking for my name and address because of some law that requires that information to enter the site.
There’s no way I’m putting my information in there, so I decide to do this the old-fashioned way. Surely, I can conjure up a good fantasy all on my own.
I close my eyes and try to think of something that turns me on. But my mind is blank, nothing but pure static.
Come on, Faye.
What do I like? Why is my brain not allowing this to happen easily? My god, I’ve had so much wine, this should be easy.
Oh, hands! I really like hands.
But then all I manage to come up with are some detached hands floating in a blank space. That’s horrifying.
The hands need to be connected to a body. But who? I need a fantasy man.
