I turned to see them and saw them looking in our direction, blushing and stealing glances at Gia. I turned back to the menu with a giggle. “You are something else, woman. If I would’ve known that you were going to be all fancy, I would’ve worn something better than this,” I complained, pulling at the wool material of my sweater.
Gia rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. “Arianna, you look good in anything. You don’t even have to try to look nice. Besides, once I leave here, I have to go to the office. I have a good bit of couples coming in today for therapy,” she said. From all of the stories she would tell me about some of her sessions, she could write her own erotic novel. Her eyes suddenly lit up with excitement as she focused on me. “Oh! Speaking of sex, how was Julius last night?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.
I sighed. Because Gia had come up with the idea in the first place, I should have been prepared for her question. I really wished that I had something positive to tell her because she looked so excited and hopeful as she waited for my answer.
Before I could respond, a small elderly woman came to our table with a coffee pot. “Welcome to Forest Hills Bagels, ladies. Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. Gia ordered an Earl Grey tea, and I chose to go with a French vanilla cappuccino.
Once the waitress was gone, Gia turned back to me. “So? How’d it go last night?”
I sighed. “He didn’t like it,” I replied bitterly. Gia raised an eyebrow in confusion and shook her head as if she didn’t hear me correctly.
“What? What do you mean he didn’t like it?”
“I mean that he didn’t like it. None of it. Nothing.”
“How could he not like it? You did so much!” she said, her voice rising slightly. I nervously looked around to make sure she hadn’t caught anyone’s attention.
“Gia, lower your voice. I was just as upset. I don’t even know what happened. I did everything you said, and when he came home, he just started bitching about everything.”
“Did he say anything about the lingerie at least?”
“The only thing he said to me was that I needed to put some clothes on because I looked like a whore.”
“WHAT? He’s such a DICK! The guy is obviously just as blind as he is stupid. I saw what you looked like with that lingerie on, and had I come home and saw you in that, I would’ve FUCKED YOU!” she all but screamed.
The customers at the surrounding tables were now looking at us as Gia fumed across the table from me. Once she noticed that we had an audience, she giggled nervously and shrugged.
“You know … I would have, if I were into girls like that. I worship the pole, I don’t play in the valley,” she reassured them, causing me to sink down deeper into the booth. I could feel my cheeks burning as the murmuring began. At that very moment, I prayed that a hole would open up in the ground and swallow me whole.
Gia rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “You can sit up now, you nun. It’s just sex, I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed about something so natural,” she chided, taking a sip of her tea that had just arrived. I didn’t respond, hoping that my lack of words would move us to a different subject.
When the waitress came back to take our orders, she couldn’t look either one of us in the eye. She was nervously wiping her hands on her grease-stained apron and kept her eyes glued to her notepad as we rattled off our order. When she left again, an awkward silence began to build between the two of us.
“Something’s not right about him, Arianna,” Gia finally said. I stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate. “He’s either getting sex from someone else, or he’s gay,” she stated matter-of-factly.
I quickly shook my head. “Whoa, those are pretty strong accusations. It was late when he came in last night. He was tired, irritated, and just wanted to go to bed—”
“When was the last time you two have even had sex? And sober sex, at that,” she asked, waiting for my response with a smirk.
I bit the inside of my cheek as I thought. No matter how far I thought back, I couldn’t think of a time when he was fully aware of what was going on. I’m sure it probably happened in the beginning of our relationship, but not lately. The realization of it hit me like a brick. I shook my head in disbelief.
“We’ve both been very busy. I’ve been trying to meet my deadline with this new book, and he’s been working hard to meet his quota each month—”
“Arianna, most men need sex just as much as they need food and water. They need it to survive. For him to go months without even touching you is pretty suspect to me.”
“So, because he’s not interested in having sex with me, you automatically assume that he’s gay?”
“Or cheating. If he’s not getting it from you, he’s getting it from someone else. No man wants to be with Palmela Handerson for the rest of their life.”
“Who?”
“Oh God, you’re so naive sometimes. It’s just a nickname that some guys have when their hand is their girlfriend,” she stated, stirring sugar into her tea. When I continue to stare at her blankly, she exhaled loudly and rolled her eyes. “Masturbation, Arianna. Palm, Palmela?” she suggested, pointing to her palm. Attention from the other customers was now on us again, causing my cheeks to burn with embarrassment for the second time in the last 10 minutes. There was never a dull moment with Gia.
I was so relieved when our food finally arrived, not only because I was starving at this point, but also at least I knew that Gia would shut up with her sex talk for a while.
“So glad I can eat a bagel with you and not feel guilty about it,” I said, spreading a little butter on the toasted bread before taking an eager bite from it.
Gia raised an eyebrow as she paused in cutting into her omelet. “Did Julius say more bullshit about your weight again?”
I shrugged and took another bite. After telling Gia the aftermath of the lingerie fiasco, you would think I would have enough common sense to not mention him again. He was already on her shit list, and I wasn’t making the situation any better by constantly telling her what he did wrong.
“I toasted a bagel for breakfast this morning, and he took it. He said I didn’t need the carbs. Had you not texted me inviting me to breakfast, I probably wouldn’t have eaten anything,” I said, bitterly thinking back on the interaction. Gia sighed deeply and turned back to her food, signaling that she wasn’t going to talk about him again.
The rest of breakfast was rather quiet, both of us in our own thoughts. After a while, Gia’s phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen and sighed. “That’s the alarm that I set to ensure that I make it to the office on time. I’d love to stay longer, but sex calls! Maybe we can meet up for drinks tonight around your part of town if you’re not busy?” she suggested, shrugging on her trench coat.
I swallowed the bit of Italian omelet I had in my mouth and nodded. “Sure. It would be better than sitting around at home by myself. Actually, maybe you can come over for a little while? Julius won’t be home until late anyway,” I said. I wanted to be with her, but I wasn’t in the mood to hang out at a sleazy bar.
Gia shook her head. “No, I’m getting you out of the house. I’ll come to pick you up around 8:00. Make sure you’re sexy by the time I get there, and don’t make me wait!” she ordered, tossing a few bills on the table before blowing me a kiss and heading out the door before I could utter another word.
I watched her get into her car and drive away before turning back to my omelet. Maybe I did need some time out of the house. Spending too much time alone just gave me too many opportunities to think about how miserable my life was. I smiled to myself. At least I had plans for tonight.
I began shifting through my e-mail again as I continued eating and came across the one from Allison. Seeing the capital letters on the subject line sent anxiety through me once again as I reluctantly opened the message titled URGENT:
Arianna,
I definitely need to see you in my office ASAP. WE NEED TO TALK! THIS
IS VERY IMPORTANT!
-Allison
My mind began churning as I tried to figure out what we had to talk about. The deadline for my latest novel wasn’t until next week, so what could she possibly need from me? Allison could be very confusing. There were a few times when she would send a dramatic e-mail, and it would be something as simple as discussing marketing strategies, which would irritate me because I would be stressed out and anxious for no reason.
I was hoping that she would have some kind of idea how to get me on a bestseller list. When I first started writing, that was my main goal. I’m two books in, and I haven’t gotten anywhere near it. We’ve tried different marketing strategies, tried building my author brand, attended events to meet readers, and everything in between, but it just didn’t seem like it was enough. She tried to reassure me that it was because I was still considered a new author, so I’m still working hard at it. As long as I was doing something that I wanted to do and not something my parents forced upon me, I wouldn’t complain.
After sending Allison an e-mail to let her know I was en route, I quickly finished my breakfast and paid the tab. Had I known what I was in for when I met with her a few moments later, I probably would’ve eaten a little slower, driven the long way, and maybe even taken a while to get to her office. Little did I know that this meeting with my literary agent was going to change my entire life.
ON A SCALE FROM ONE TO EVEN … I CAN’T.
“GOOD IDEA, RIGHT?” Allison grinned, her sparkling grey eyes beaming at me with excitement.
I blinked a few times as I stared at my literary agent in disbelief. There had to have been some kind of mistake. There was no way I heard her correctly, especially if she was asking what I thought she was. My first instinct was to pick up my purse and walk out of her office as if this encounter didn’t happen. Allison sighed and leaned back in her plush leather chair.
“What’s the problem? It’s an excellent idea, and I believe it’ll take your career to the next level,” she reasoned, searching my face for approval. Unfortunately, I couldn’t give it to her. I was absolutely appalled by her request.
“You want me to write … porn?” I asked, slightly disgusted as the word left my lips. She rubbed her temples with a deep sigh.
“It’s erotica, Arianna, not porn. I think it would be a great idea for you to try your hand at writing an erotic novel,” she stated, leaning forward on her elbows.
I nibbled on my lower lip nervously. This project would be completely out of my league, and the thought of it made me extremely uncomfortable. It’s one thing to write romance, but to write something filled with sex? Yeah … no.
“But … I’m a romance author. I really don’t think I can pull that off.”
“And why not?”
“You’ve read the scenes I write in my romance. Those aren’t even steamy enough to be considered soft porn.”
“Those are romances. They’re not supposed to be focused on the sex aspect anyway.”
“I just don’t know, Allison,” I stated, running a shaky hand through my hair. She shuffled through a few papers on her desk before sliding a sheet over to me. I took a quick glance and saw a list of names and books that I wasn’t familiar with and looked up in confusion. “What is this?”
“This is the roster of authors I represent. They all have their own genres that they’re comfortable with, just like you. I also recommended them to write something out of their comfort zone, and look where it landed them,” she said, placing another piece of paper in front of me.
I read the names on the other page and compared them with the new sheet. All of the authors on the first sheet had made both New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to process my thoughts.
“So … if I write this, it could be a bestseller?” I asked softly. Allison nodded enthusiastically.
“It would be a bestseller. I wouldn’t recommend something that I didn’t think you were ready for. I just want to help you get to your main goal. You do remember what that goal is, right?” she asked.
I remembered my goal clearly. At our initial meeting, after she accepted my first manuscript, I told her that my only goal was to make some kind of bestseller list. I didn’t care if I didn’t become rich, I just wanted to make a list to prove to my parents that I could be successful as a writer. If writing this erotica stuff was going to get me on a list, it was something that I would really need to consider.
“But why erotica, though? I could write a spicy romance or … ”
“No, no, no. It has to be erotica coming from you. The market is demanding it now that readers are in the post--50 Shades of Grey phase. They want something sexy, gritty, something that will have them on the edge of their seats. Think about those moms or housewives who aren’t getting much action in the bedroom. This is your target audience. A spicy romance won’t work,” she stated matter-of-factly, tossing her dark chestnut brown hair over her shoulder.
Hell, there’s no action in my own bedroom, I thought with a sigh. I had confidence in my writing, but I wasn’t so sure that I could write erotica. . I had never even read an erotic novel in my life! I remember walking into a bookstore and feeling slightly disgusted to know that my pure, clean romance books were next to porn titles.
Allison was still watching me, waiting for me to answer. I felt a pang of embarrassment as I thought about my lack of experience with sex. Julius is the only guy I’ve ever been with, and we haven’t been intimate in months. How on earth was I going to write about something exciting when fireworks were nowhere near my bedroom? Hell, even old people couldn’t get off on my personal sex stories if I were to tell them. To put it simply, I had no sex life at the moment and had no idea what I was going to do for content. If people wanted to read things after 50 Shades of Grey, I’m pretty sure they’d want a lot more than the basic stuff.
“How do I go about gaining the experience to write a scene? Julius is the only guy I’ve been with and we … we’ve had a dry spell lately,” I mumbled, picking at a loose thread on my sweater.
I could feel Allison’s eyes on me as I kept my head low, too embarrassed to look up at her. “That’s why I got you this,” she said, opening a drawer in her desk and pulling out a black leather journal. My eyebrows raised in surprise when I saw a pink silhouette of a naked woman stamped on the front of it.
“What the … how in the hell is this going to help me?” I asked, flipping through the journal to see a bunch of blank sheets of paper. Allison looked at me with a playful smirk on her face that I wished I could slap off. She was obviously enjoying my discomfort, which was annoying me to no end.
“I figured that you would need to conduct a little research. If you’re going through a dry spell, I’m sure you have thoughts or fantasies that you have in the recesses of your mind. Maybe you’ll see something or someone out in public that will ignite your imagination. That journal is to write down everything that could be used in your book, so carry it with you at all times.”
“People aren’t having sex in public, Allison. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I didn’t say write about people having sex. Write about how certain things make you feel if they trigger you sexually. If you see a cute couple interacting with each other, write about it. See a hot guy on the subway? Write about what you’d do to him on the subway if the two of you were alone. Use your imagination! Don’t you have that one friend who’s a bona fide pervert or something? I’m sure she’d love to help you,” she suggested.
I stifled a giggle at the reference she used for Gia. This would definitely be something she’d be interested in being a part of. The possible perks would be nice if I wrote this book the right way. It would be a dream come true to finally write a bestseller. If Allison thought this was a good idea, I would give it a try. Although it would take a ton of research, I’m sure it would be worth it in the end.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” I mumbled, turning my attention to the naked silh
ouette on my journal.
“What was that? You have to speak up, dear,” she teased with that stupid smirk on her face again. I exhaled loudly and looked her directly in the eyes.
“I said I’ll do it. If you think it will help me reach my goal, I’ll do it. I just pray I don’t regret this,” I said, immediately wondering what my parents would think about this project.
If this book wasn’t successful, I knew I would never hear the end of it from them. Hell, they’d probably disown me completely. To them, it’s one thing to be a writer, but I’d be considered a complete disgrace if I were a writer known for writing about sex. Allison sensed my distress and reached over to pat my hand gently.
“Everything will be fine, Arianna. I have a lot of faith in this project, and you will do amazing. I promise to make sure you don’t put out anything trashy. Do you trust me?”
“Do I have much of a choice?”
“You do, but I guess the real question is, do you still want to write a best-seller?”
“Yes.”
“Then trust me,” she urged with an encouraging smile, her gaze boring into mine. I sighed and nodded meekly. What was the worst that could happen?
My mind was churning as Allison babbled on about why erotica was a good idea right now. While she was talking about how the recession caused lower sex drives, I was trying to figure out how I was going to find content for this book. I didn’t find porn too appealing to write about, and I couldn’t go home to Julius and say, “Hey, Allison said I should write an erotica, so we need to have sex.” He’d look at me like I was crazy or probably laugh in my face. I would definitely need Gia’s help on what to do about this problem.
“Do you understand now?” I heard Allison say when I finally returned to her conversation. I nodded blankly, having no idea what she had been talking about for the past few minutes. She knowingly grinned at me as she shook her head. “Well, that’s all I had to talk about. I suggest you start plotting out some ideas on a storyline. Speaking of story lines, you have a deadline coming up soon,” she reminded me. I nodded as I absently gathered my purse, dropping the leather journal inside of it. I don’t even remember saying good-bye to her as I walked out of her office and shut the door behind me.
The Daring Assignment Page 2
