Page 140 of Let's Kiss and Tell

Everything feels like it’s falling into place. A little over a year ago, I was bitter, overworked, narrow-minded about practically everything. Maybe all those things in the past needed to happen to get me to this exact moment.

I know what Lucy and I agreed on…but I’m wondering if this actuallyhasto end? Things are not what they were when we met. Things are not what they were a week ago. As each second goes by, we’re both slowly opening ourselves to each other more and more.

I don’t want things to end.

Could He Be…the One?

By Lucy Reid

September 12

Let it be known for anyone new here that I have never been in a serious relationship. What qualifies as a “serious relationship”? In my eyes, that means having a mutual understanding with someone that the two of you are in a monogamous relationship. You’ve met the important people in their lives and you’ve had those late-night conversations talking about your hopes and dreams. Both of you have an understanding and mutual desire to explore the world together, live together, perhaps even spend the rest of your lives together.

The reason I’ve never succumbed to the idea of a “boyfriend” is because I can do all those things listed above on my own. I’m an only child and independent by nature. I’m capable of having a connection with someone for one night and then havinganother connection with someone another night. I think that ability is rare and beautiful. Multiple people fulfill different needs within me. But lately, it feels likeoneperson has been doing all of that. Now I’m wondering ifthisis what people talk about in movies and TV shows? If this feeling is what those love songs explain? Do I not need anyone else?

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Sex Work Is Lucrative…But to WHOM?

By Marshall Oakley

September 12

When environmental philanthropist Aditi Singh filed for divorce from Tango founder, Alf Olson, last month, the end of the marriage isn’t what turned heads. It’swhyshe’s ending the marriage. The divorce petition lists among the grounds “respondent has committed adultery” with multiple sex workers from a private escort service.

Since then, there has been a close eye on the business of sex work. In some states, sex work is deemed legal, depending on its nature. In recent discoveries, Olson’s close circle of male business leaders and political figures has been outed as being involved, now resulting in scrutiny of the sex workers, not their clients. What the private escort service is being investigated for is not the business that is run, but what happensaftera payment is made: getting caught when there is a nondisclosure agreement.

“People want sex,” sex writer Lucy Reid says. “Even for the richest men out there, you can have all the money in the world…but people want sex.”

The current lawsuit goes to trial next week, and it’s leading to a polarizing debate. Since ancient Greece, men have been using prostitution as a tool of power. As of late, women have taken control of the male-dominated industry—although it’s subjective as towhodominates it: the men running the industry or the women working in it? Women have now taken the profession used against them and garnered control over their clients.

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26

Lucy

I’m in the middle of packing for Palm Springs when Jonah texts me a link to Marsh’s story.

Jonah:

Okay!!! She’s officially on The Journal!

A text from Marsh also comes in sharing the same sentiment, and I click on the link. While Marsh also cited a professor from UCLA and a women’s rights activist, having my name inThe Journalis something important to me. Being seen as an expert in my field validates my career. I read through the first paragraph intrigued, and then my heart skips a beat.Sex writer Lucy Reid.The hairs on the back of my neck stand and nothing feels real. To be able to see my name printed in black and white in one of the most prestigious publications in the world is one of my greatest achievements. I want to show this article to every single person who toldme it was a pipe dream to write for a living or who sneered at my topic of choice.

I’m proud—really proud—of myself.

Marsh is waiting outside in his car the same way he’s done many times before. He has a pair of sunglasses on, his arm leaning out the open window, and my chest clenches tight. I already miss this view.

This weekend is what everything has been leading up to. I’ve completed more than enough articles to make a case for my column’s impact, and this weekend is the last time Marsh will ever have to see Julia. But I keep thinking about theafter.What will work look like? Do Marsh and I shake hands once he drops me off and call it a day? Do we not text anymore? Do we not hang out? Do I not get to spend my time with him, touch him, kiss him? All these logistics I knew would have to be dealt with eventually, but now it doesn’t seem so simple. I don’t want to go a daynotbeing with Marsh.

Marsh takes my luggage, placing it in the trunk of his car, then gives me a kiss. “You look beautiful,” he says against my lips, and I let out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re saying that like I’m not wearing an oversize dress shirt and jeans.”

“Your point?” He walks around the car to the driver’s side, and I get in the passenger seat.

“You better stop because I’m going to get used to hearing it.”