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Like that, it’ssettled.
The principal thanks me and says we should meet again in amonth.
And I think I just got a taste for how Terry Crawford got where heis.
11
Rena
“Who actually publishes this?”Kendall holds up the book, and I raise abrow.
“They probably made a lot of money on it back in theday.”
“Yeah, but who stood by the printing presses, on quality control, cranking out a thousand copies ofTop Positions for Stimulation and Closenessevery day?” sheasks.
“That’s the point. They didn’t. It’s a limited run. Everything in this storeis.”
“No pictures of themerchandise.”
We both turn toward the voice coming from the end of therow.
“Kidding. It’s our best advertising.” The owner of the tantric bookstore points at the sign with theirhashtag.
I glance at the shelf in front of me. If I ever thought I thought about sex a lot? I’m humbled to say this puts me to shame. There’s everything from the straight-up physics of it—gravity-defying positions, angles, lubrication—to the relational side ofit.
And it’s organized by year, with the rare stuff at theback.
Because it’s not like they can put the smutty stuff in theback.
Kendall shelves the book and continues down the row, reaching for another. “All AboutOral?”
“They should make that an e-book and distribute it free to every man. As a publicservice.”
Kendall laughs. “If the way men achieved sexual satisfaction was through pleasuring women, you can be sure they’d figure that out.” She nods at the book. “I’m buyingthis.”
“Big weekend plans?” Iask.
“Yep. Rory and I are going to Brooklyn for a festival. As for this book? It’ll live in my nightstand, on top of the condoms that never get used, as part of the shrine to the sex life I don’t have,” she decides, flipping it over. Her jaw drops. “This is fortybucks?”
The owner appears again. “It’s signed by theauthor.”
“The author’s a nurse practitioner from Tallahassee,” Kendallcounters.
They haggle over the price, and my friend strikes abargain.
“You’ve been dodging my pottery class invitations,” she says once they’veagreed.
“Not dodging. I’ve been busy helping Wes sell his app. Not through Closer. Justme.”
Kendall lifts a well-groomed brow, slow. “So you’remoonlighting?”
“It’s more like a favor. Plus, he has a huge research sample. If this works it’d be great for my portfolio.” And proving I can do my job. “The idea of genetic compatibility has been around forever, but it’s only recently gotten more attention with the cost of ancestry and DNA tests going down. Plus, there are databanks people can contribute their genetic code to in order to help with research like Wes’s. At first, I thought it was super sketchy because anything to do with sorting people based on their genetics seems shady. But it’s cool—they actually match people based ondiversity.”
I lead the way toward theregister.
“How do you even look for someone based on literal chemistry?” Kendallasks.
“Blurry faces so you don’t swipe people away based on theirlooks.”
