Questions roll around in my psyche and yet, here in his arms, I feel safe.
Too tired for this conversation . . . What does that even mean?
It’s like I’m swimming out to sea with no sight of land. I know it’s dangerous, but I can’t get out of the rip tide as I get swept along. Perhaps I wouldn’t, even if I could.
The water is dark, but it’s too late. I’m too far from the shore to turn back.
My dearest Pinkie,
Tell me something interesting, my day is dull.
Ed
X
I smirk and look guiltily around my office. I really shouldn’t be speaking to Ed while I’m working, but my day is pretty dull too. We’ve got into the habit of speaking numerous times a day. Completely platonic of course, but fun nevertheless. If it wasn’t for the sarky sense of humor, I couldn’t reconcile that he and Elliot are the same person at all.
Dearest Ed,
There are two body parts on a human that never stop growing.
The nose and the ears.
Pinkie
X
A reply bounces straight back.
Pinkie,
I must say, I’m let down with your so-called interesting fact. Another mundane piece of information I didn’t need to hear.
Thankfully I’m blessed with perfection. Unfortunately I know that I can’t say the same for you.
Perhaps you should update your profile picture from a cat to an elephant now to evade catfishing more poor unsuspecting suitors.
I giggle. “You idiot.”
I type:
My dearest Pinocchio,
I am a very busy woman, doing a very important job.
Stop annoying me and go and tend to your garbage.
I smile and click out of my email. Edgar Moffatt, my sweet distraction.
Saturday night, Andrew drives through London; Elliot and I in the backseat.
“Do we really have to go?” I sigh. “I hate the thought of walking into this thing alone.” I’m dressed in a long, black, fitted evening gown, my hair is curled, and my makeup is natural. Elliot approves—I had to fight him off before we even left home.
“I told you already”—Elliot picks up my hand and kisses the back of it—“Miles Media have made a very generous donation and I have to be there for the presentation.”
“I guess.” I exhale heavily as I stare out of the window.
“I’ve arranged for us to be seated at the same table and we can leave as soon as the speeches are over.” He leans over and kisses me just below my ear to try and sweeten the blow. “Then we can go to your favorite restaurant.”
“You mean, your favorite restaurant,” I whisper. We’ve been to the private dining room twice, and each time I’ve ended up giving Casanova Miles a lap dance with a happy ending. Something about that place makes me putty in his hands.
Elliot gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Well, you do seem to enjoy yourself there.”
My eyes flick to Andrew—can he hear us?
I slide my hand up Elliot’s thick quad and dust my fingers over his crotch. His eyes hold mine and I feel a twinge beneath my touch as he flexes his dick.
“Why can’t we walk in together?” I whisper.
“You know why.” He kisses me softly.
“How long is this going to go on for?” I murmur into his mouth.