Page 37 of The Plus One Pact

"I want to explore my sexuality," I say. "And I want to be able to tell whoever I want—the world, if I want to."

"Write Eat, Pray, Fuck?"

"Eat, Pray, Love is a very good book," I say.

"Mom didn't like it. Said it stereotyped Italians."

That… is probably true. "Did you read it?"

"The audiobook," he says. "I liked it. Though the author reminded me of my brother. She's neurotic the way he is."

"She's adventurous too. It's an interesting combination." Like my fake podcast persona.

"I tell you what. I'll take another look, as part of the deal. Or read any other divorce memoir that speaks to you."

That's such a strange and random offer. But considerate in the weirdest way. Since I am trying to explore myself post-divorce.

Is he trying to understand me in some way? Or at least meet me halfway?

That's a lot more than my ex did.

"You can stock up on material for Talk, Listen, Fuck," he says. "Just change my name."

"So, what? We play your game all day and mine all night?"

"I don't know, Ivy, do you have that kind of stamina?" A teasing tone drops into his voice.

It makes my cheeks flush and stomach flutter.

I like it far too much.

I like him far too much.

But that's ridiculous. Where would he ever fit into my life?

No. This is perfect. We're two people whose paths will never cross again after this.

Meredith says that's the key to a successful casual thing.

There is one problem though.

Ahem. "I… I appreciate this was on my terms," I say. "And I do need that. Someone who will encourage my desires. But I don't want it to be the sort of thing I pay for."

"You want to have real sex," he says.

I nod. "If you're not really interested, I understand. I'm sure, you—"

"I'm interested." He says it matter-of-factly. As if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It won't be what you'd get with a boyfriend, but I can drop the pretense. Give you a more honest fling. No charge."

No charge as part of the deal or because he actually wants to have sex with me? I’m not sure I want to ask. Does it matter, really? I need the material and I want to have sex with him. I need to do what I tell clients to do: focus on what I want, not on other people’s motives. "Was there pretense last night?"

He doesn't answer. "I'll drop a little pretense each time, to ease you into a more honest dynamic."

He can tell I can't handle asking for what I want without encouragement. He's good. He should get into my line of work.

Or maybe we should collaborate. I handle the mental prep. He takes on the actual experience.

It's not a bad idea. In a world where people don't look down on sex workers. In this one, the law isn't on our side.