Page 70 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“I don’t know.” He steps back. “You just seem…off.”

I swallow. How can Marsh be this intuitive?

“It’s just nice you’re cooking dinner,” I say awkwardly.

He makes a face. “I wouldn’t really call this cooking.”

“Tell that to a guy I dated who thought ‘making me breakfast’ meant pouring me a bowl of cereal.”

Marsh frowns and his eyes travel across my face. I wish I was able to read him the way he can me.

“Well.” He inhales. “At least the bar is low.”

I let out a laugh. “Very low.”

There’s a split second where Marsh’s gaze lands on my mouth. He subtly licks his lips, and I swear I forget how to breathe.

“So.” He turns and heats up one of the burners. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Didn’t we already get the awkward conversation about last night out of the way?”

“Not that,” he says. “The story I’m working on.”

“Oh yeah.” I perk up, relieved. “What about it?”

“I read the notes that you shared from Christina Logan’s interview. They were insightful. How you practically dissected her thoughts and how it must feel for the woman to hold the power in the relationship.”

I don’t think I’ve shared my notes with anyone since the early days in my career. Nowadays, I have my process locked down and I share only my final product. To hear Marsh compliment the in-between portion of the journey feels highly vulnerable but also satisfying.

“I’m glad I was able to help,” I say.

“I’d like to use you as an expert on the story,” he says. “If you’re interested.”

Is he serious?

“Are you serious?” I stammer.

“Very much.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because you’re valuable,” he says like he knew this question was coming. “You’re a woman who objectively knows more about sex than the average person. You understand this world—having to use your body, your looks, your sexuality as a tool to move forward and be someone. You’re a strong writer and this story can benefit from a woman’s POV,” he says. “And I think when it comes to this story, I can learn a lot from you.”

This is the most serious I’ve seen Marsh, and he’s seriousprobably ninety-six percent of the time. Saying what he just said, asking for what he’s asking, isn’t easy. In this industry, it’s hard to find a man admitting hecan’tdo all the things a woman can. Once, I had a male editor tell me that he could’ve written my G-spot story better than I could have. I wish I was joking.

“Wow, thank you, Marsh. You’re right, a lot of stories would benefit from a female perspective,” I say. “So, what do you need from me?”

“I would do an interview with you, you’d give your perspective on the case, escort services in general, and I can use any of your quotes in the story.”

Suddenly this feels a lot more real. An expert credit on a story published inThe Journal.With a credit like that, this could only help my case for a promotion.

“You trust me to be an expert on a feature?” I ask, making sure that I’m not dreaming this.

Marsh nods. “There is no ulterior motive, no catch. I think that between the two of us, we can make this story the best it can be, and isn’t that all that matters?”

“Wait, does this change anything about our arrangement?” As much as I want to help Marsh with this story, I still absolutely need to completemystories, and I need him.

“The only thing that would change is we’d probably be spending more time together,” Marsh says.