Page 33
ALEX: Damn, woman.
TESS: Grisham gets like 75k for an hour and a half Q&A. My appearance fee is laughable. But I’m grateful for it.
ALEX: How many more paid dates?
TESS: Why? Thinking of fucking me for my money?
ALEX: No. But I’m always thinking about fucking you.
23
Tess
I’m in a hotel lobby with a dreamy face and a need to get some relief from the throbbing between my legs. I can’t help but flirt. This can’t have longevity. But right now, I fall ass-backward into lust. November 9th is too far away, and our schedules are fucked. I’m afraid he might fade into an ‘almost was.’
TESS: I have to go.
ALEX: That’s your response to my morning wood?
But I can’t stop myself from pushing him.
TESS: I miss the view of your ass.
ALEX: That amazing mole between your tits.
TESS: Now I have morning wood, or is it daybreak dew?
ALEX: YOU DID NOT JUST NAME LADY MORNING WOOD?!
TESS: Morning moisture?
ALEX: EWW. Try again.
TESS: Slippery sunrise.
ALEX: Nailed it.
I laugh at our exchange. Someone passes by and waves at me a little. I pull my dress up a little bit to try and hide the flush on my chest. I’m wearing another navy-blue author uniform. I look down and realize I’m dressed like a Connecticut Presbyterian. Why church clothes? And not the good church with fanciful hats and vibrant print dresses. I’m drab. My underthings are currently a vivid purple. Why doesn’t my underneath match my overneath? Not a word. Let’s call it poetic license.
ALEX: Lunch, canvassing in Orange County, interviews with incumbents, then I’m doing Dax Shepard’s podcast.
TESS: Damn, that’s a day. I’m here for tonight and then Southeast for a bit.
I’m going shopping today. Not sure Alabama has exactly what I’m looking for, but I know I can find a bright flowery sundress of some sort here. Perhaps a Lily Pulitzer or something floatier. I barely know him, and I’ve already decided to ditch my wardrobe. Alex does things to my mind and soul I don’t want to think about. He turns me inside out.
24
Alex
Fuck it. I pull up a link and text it to her. My palms are a bit sweaty as I push send. I think she’s my girl, but she’s either into this, or it ends now. This dancing around our truth is fucking ridiculous. This way, I figure out how to work, and I’ll know where she is. I’ll know when I’m going to be back between her killer legs and sweet pussy.
ALEX: https://calendar.google.com/calendar/k?tb=oc
I toss my phone on the counter. This way, I restore the work–Tess balance to where it needs to be. 75% work, 25% Tess. Possibly 60/40. And then my phone rings.
“That’s a big step, Mr. Bishop. You sure?”
I smile as I answer, “Ms. McGuire, let’s stop pretending our little deal works.”