Page 51 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

He smiles when he sees me pointing at his tea, a snack that I paid for and he fetched during business hours because I let him do whatever he wants. He’s far more efficient than I am, his work is always done and correct the first time, and he makes me look good to our corporate overlords in Ireland, so much so they almost never visit, so why wouldn’t I?

“Despite my undying loyalty, I’ve never been granted access to do more than play Prince Harry’s playlists.”

Again with the nodding and smiling. “Yes, Prince Harry’s real name is Henry. I’m impressed with your knowledge of British royalty.” He does look pleased. I snort and mumble “suck-up” under my breath, and Julian gives me the finger. “I didn’t realize TikTok was a study guide for the aristocracy, but clearly, it worked for you.”

Julian beams, thrilled to be talking to her. Given that he’s an absolute lady-killer, it’s delightful to see him wrapped around her finger like an oversized sock puppet. He doesn’t even put up a fight; he lets her have her way. I’m more than familiar with the phenomenon.

“Anyway, Spotify playlists. Sir Henry has decreed that I’m only good enough to select and play said playlists. I’ve been given the ability to skip a song here and there, but nothing else. No real power. It’s such a sadness for me. Deep, deep lingering pain.”

She must be responding because he nods.

“Kait, you’re my new favorite human. Henry has had a significant demotion.” He’s pointedly ignoring me now. “You can guess how I felt when I found out that Henry granted you total access to his playlists. You might think I would be jealous, but I’m not.” Julian leans against the corner of his side of the desk. He whispers conspiratorially, “I almost died, Kait. He fired up the official Henry Sterling’s Best of Britain playlist, and I heard Wham!” Big, muscular, manly, kickboxing Julian giggles. Giggles. Not only that, but it’s contagious, and I try to hide mine behind my hand. Kait’s superpower is spreading happiness, one tiny laugh at a time.

“If only one of us was good enough to be the chosen one, I’m glad it was you, because that was fantastic.”

They are never, ever allowed to have any serious bonding time, or they’ll make my life miserable. I get a cold shiver when I picture Julian, Kait, and Saoirse having a fun night out and planning fresh and creative ways to make my life into a living hell.

“I thought our Henry was going to slip into convulsions. Conniptions.”

They think this is hilarious. More giggling. It’s downright unmanly when a six-foot-three martial artist giggles, but he seems quite comfortable. Delighted even. Dick.

Julian looks at me, smiles an oversized pleased-with-himself smile, and winks. Bloody winking British bastard. I say nothing. I show nothing. I don’t frown or glare; I restack my papers to make them neater than they already are, which is perfectly neat.

“Henry’s thrilled.” Julian oozes sarcasm. Thrilled, my ass. “He’s eager to discover more enhancements to his previously unadulterated Spotify playlists.”

He listens and nods, smiling like this is the best day of his life. I guess talking to Kait has that effect on him too. “I love you, Kait. Thank you for making my day.” He looks directly at me so I know he sees me making the give-me-the-phone sign. “Byyeeeee!”

I’m not jealous that he says he loves her. They barely know each other. Julian smirks as he replaces the receiver on the charging base. Not jealous in the slightest.

“Hey, didn’t she want to speak to me?”

“Noooooope.” Ouch. “Before I forget, give me your credit card if you want me to buy our concert tickets for the British Invasion Music Festival.” I watch as he picks out our tickets, mumbling as he types. “I hear there are lots of interesting duets on Spotify.”

He says it with a cackle before his smile fades into something more serious. “Henry,” he says, hesitating for a moment before speaking again, “Kait seems delightful.”

“She is,” I say with a nod.

“As I said, she sounds delightful, she truly does, but anyone can be anything by phone, can’t they?”

I imagine it’s hard for him to castigate his boss, so he goes gentle. It still feels like having salt rubbed in a wound I didn’t know I had. I nod. It’s not like I can tell him the truth. I can’t just say that Kait is a great phone sex operator and I’m experiencing a tiny bit of limerence. So I say nothing.

“Take care, you. Please,” Julian says, his words concerned and his expression too serious. “I rather like you at least half the time and wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”

No chance of that. It’s not a real relationship. It’s not like I’m dating Kait and she has the ability to break my heart. I can stop calling anytime.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

KAITLIN

RULE #8: DON’T GET ATTACHED TO A CALLER.

I have a fruit bowl due for still-life class—yawn—but I can’t be bothered when there’s an idea tickling my brain. Inspiration struck during my pathology class; the cardiac system has been our focus this week. I start with a barely-there pencil outline of an anatomically correct human heart. I envision the final heart being a mosaic of brilliant, bold colors, like Lily Pulitzer colors but a smidge less neon, with silver accents. It’s a nice change of pace from the dirty winter city snow of January.

In my mind’s eye, it’ll be a heart bursting with happiness, with the softest colors of creamy calla lilies and Parisian macarons. Capturing pure joy will be a challenge but fun.

Henry doesn’t know my school of choice is the University of Illinois at Chicago. I’ve kept that to myself despite all of the hours we spend together. UIC vaulted to the top of my wish list before I finished undergrad and has remained there while I’ve been taking prerequisites and working a ton. So it’s not a Henry thing; I don’t want to move to Chicago because of him. I decided well in advance of hearing his voice that this was the star I would aim for.

It’d be logical—responsible even—to get a master’s in counseling. Or continue with phone sex and make a ton of money without the pesky tuition bills, but the heart wants what it wants. I love painting, and there is something about the complexity of anatomy and physiology that intrigues me. I could spend a lifetime studying the human body—especially the brain—and still want more.