Page 161 of Things We Left Behind
Knox:Wait a second. Weren’t you in Knockemout this weekend? Neecey said you called in a pizza order Sunday.
Nash:Don’t tell me you finally gave in to Mrs. Tweedy’s advances.
Lucian:What Mrs. Tweedy and I do or don’t do is none of your business.
Nash:I’m begging you. Please don’t drive some poor, unsuspecting Knockemout woman crazy enough to start stalking you. I don’t have the manpower to deal with it.
Sloane:I’ve had three patrons tell me I’m glowing. I had to start telling people I found a new foundation so they wouldn’t know it was orgasmic. How’s your day? Destroy the economies of any small countries yet?
Me:Petula has a medical team on standby because I smiled. Lina wants to know why I’m not frowning enough. And Nolan thinks that I secretly love him. I hate everything.
Sloane:On the bright side, your penis will have time to heal since you won’t be shoving it inside me any time soon.
Me:Just to clarify for the official documents my lawyer is drawing up, we’re no longer having sex, correct?
Sloane:I believe that is what was discussed somewhere between orgasms and your snoring when we took a nap on my couch.
Me:That was a coma, not a nap. So we’re done then. Never to be mentioned again. You’re off to focus on finding Mr. Perfect to build your gigantic, unruly family and I’m free to continue my capitalistic pillaging.
Sloane:Yep. Have fun pillaging!
Me:Have fun finding a husband who isn’t incredibly disappointing in bed.
Sloane:It’s going to take hours upon hours of exhaustive, naked research on my part.
Me:Are you sure your endurance is up for the task? Perhaps you should consider a training program to improve your cardiovascular baseline.
Sloane:Are you offering to sex coach me?
Me:Are you considering the offer?
Sloane:What about the official documents your lawyer is drawing up? I’d hate for you to waste all that money by having sex with me again.
Me:I can have the contract postdated. What are you doing Friday?
Sloane:Friday as in Valentine’s Day?
Me:Friday as in Friday.
Sloane:I’m hosting an erotic author for a sexy, adults-only event at the library.
Me:And after?
Sloane:I guess after I’ll be training on your very large penis.
Me:For science.
Emry:Sacha said yes to the symphony.
Me:Congratulations. You’re one step closer to ending your bachelorhood.
Emry:I don’t know how to date in this day and age. Do I bring her flowers or wine? Is a corsage acceptable? If she texts me should I respond with an emoji or a gif? How much body hair is acceptable on a man these days?
The image consultants on the screen on the wall above the conference table were annoying me with their inability to agree on how best to begin championing Sheila Chandra to the national media. I was about to tell them so when Petula signaled me from the door.
I gestured for Nolan to take over.
“Look, folks. We’re not trying to turn her into a completely different person and alienate her from the following she’s already built,” he began more politely than I would have.
