Time.
Shoshana using that word reminds me that Tori has her final pitch meeting with us in a little over two weeks. Cynthia will be back from Europe by then. Elissa will be there. And, of course, I’ll be there, looking across a table at the girl I just fake broke up with—even though it feels like a pretty real break up to me.
“Well, thanks anyway, Shoshana. You’re a strange bird, but I like you.”
“Awww,” she says, clutching her heart. “See, if it wasn’t for Tori, you could have been one of my ex boyfriends. Oh well. Twists of fate and all that.”
I smile at the cartoon character that is Shoshana. It’s the only thing I’ve smiled at since Tori walked out on me. “Go get your nails done. Hopefully Tori will change her mind.”
“Stranger things have happened. Goodbye for now, Cormac.”
“Bye.”
She walks out and my head starts spinning. I don’t know how I’m going to handle this whole situation, but I do know that I’m dreading that meeting.
Cormac
Saturday, July 22nd
Fuck this computer.
It’s not the computer’s fault, I know this, but fuck it anyway!
Fuck these blank pages, fuck this empty screen that’s practically calling me a pussy.
I smile thinking about that conversation with Tori. I smile thinking about Tori in general, but I’m guessing that I won’t be seeing her again in person until that meeting, and whatever I thought we might have had is definitely over. It is what it is. If I told Tori I just had that thought she’d probably tell me I was being a typical man—unable to express my feelings and going all sour grapes on something meaningful. Maybe she’d be right. But what else can I do? Mope around the house? Take a vacation from hygiene again? I’ve got to move on. Clearly, she has.
Looking back there is one thing Tori did to change my mind—not about her book, but about the woman herself—she helped inspire me to finish this damn book. I’ve always hated that word—inspire. It always rang of artistic pretension to me, but I can’t think of anything better at the moment for what Tori did for me. She believed in me even though I had ripped her book to shreds right in front of her—almost literally—and she had every right to laugh mine down that crowded city street when I told her what I was writing.
But she didn’t. Not even a little bit.
Instead she propped me up, told me I could do it, took me someplace I’d never been before to kickstart my brain, and gave me some techniques of how to get out of my own way. Whatever we had, and whatever we lost, I still have that. And I’m not going to waste it.
I get up, make a cup of coffee, tell myself to stop being such a. . . to stop being such a pair of balls, and sit down, ready to fuck this laptop up in the fight we’re about to have with one another.
But for the first time in months I think I have the advantage, because all of a sudden, I have an idea of the story I want to tell.
Cormac
Two Weeks Later
I should not go out with my brothers.
Strike that, I should not go out with Conor.
Aidan can be a wild man like the rest of us, but he’s also got the maturity to know when to turn it off and slow down the crazy. Conor is missing that gene. He wanted to celebrate me finishing my book, so he took me and Aidan to a bar that was truly a hole in the wall. Calling it a ‘dive’ doesn’t do it justice. Think of a meth lab, only they serve drinks. I don’t know how Conor found that place and I don’t think I want to know.
Now we’re sharing an Uber. I live closest to the bar, so I’m the first drop off. It’s only six blocks away, but in Manhattan-traffic-time, that’s a good half hour of driving, accompanied by horns and middle fingers and possibly an accident if our driver is as bad as he looks. Next time, I’ll let Aidan plan any celebrations.
“I can’t believe my older bro is going to be a published author! That’s sick!”
Conor’s wild, but he’s a good guy, and genuinely happy for me. “Thanks, dude. I don’t know what came over me in the last couple weeks, but once I started hitting those keys I was busting out a chapter or two a night.”
“I know what came over you,” Aidan says. “You finally got away from all the crazy women in your life—Maryanne, and that Tori chick. Freed your mind to do its work.”
I smile even though he’s dead wrong. I don’t have the time or energy to explain that it was Tori who kicked me in the ass to finish the book in the first place. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t even care what it was, I have a book now.”
“Oh, shit,” Conor says. “I just realized I didn’t even ask you, what’s it called?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Lie number one. “I’m playing around with some different titles.” Lie number two. “But I’ll let you know when I settle on one.” Finally, the truth.
“Cool, bro. Or maybe I’ll just see it at the bookstore.”
Aidan bursts out laughing. “Bookstore? Who are you lying to right now? Your ass hasn’t read a book since high school, and even then, you always got some girl to read it for you and tell you what it was about.”
“Yeah, true. That trick worked in college, too. But I’ll read this one for sure.” Aidan and I both shoot him the side eye. “Alright, I’ll read that little paragraph on the back at least. Maybe even a chapter or two.”
I reach over and put my hands on his shoulder. “Coming from my half illiterate brother that means a hell of a lot.”
“Thanks. Hey, wait a second. . .”
“God, you’re slow,” Aidan jokes.
“Not as slow as this traffic. My place is literally a block away, I think I’m gonna jump out and walk, I’ll get there faster.”
“You sure? I read SuperFreakonomics. They said in there that you’re more likely to die drunk walking than drunk driving.”
Aidan always worries about me. Sometimes I wonder who’s really the older brother. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m not drunk, and my place is literally right there. You guys get home safe. Text me, alright.”
“We will. And congrats, man!”
“Congrats, bro!”
I leave them behind and weave in between the barely moving cars. About thirty strong steps later I’m at the front door of my apartment building. When I get to my door there’s a package waiting for me. I wonder what it is because the only thing I ordered recently was a copy of my book that I’d had bound, but it’s too soon to be that.
Inside, I grab a cold water from my fridge and use the edge of my keys to slit the tape open. Inside is a fresh copy of Tori’s book, and a hand-written note.
“Cormac,
I haven’t been ignoring you. I mean, I have been ignoring you, but not because I don’t want to talk to you, but because I just needed time to let things settle. I know that I probably over reacted to what happened. You don’t seem like the type to do what I thought you did, and if I made assumptions about you, I’m so sorry.
I need some time to myself. This whole experiment was for me to get to know men better, but I think maybe I learned more about myself than I did about men. I learned that I have some thoughts that need examining, and some viewpoints that need questioning. You helped to show me that, and because of that I’ll withdraw my application to have my book published, just like we agreed to. Maybe the book shouldn’t be published.
I know that you’re probably really busy with your job and your book and, well, life, but if you want you can read the revised chapters I’ve sent. It’s the same book, but I took out some of the gross generalizations that were wrong from the start. Our experiment is over, and you were right.
On the personal side of things, I’m not sure where we go from here. We started out as an experiment—as a fake couple—and along the way we became. . . something. I don’t have a name for it, but I know that what I felt when I was in your arms is as real as anything I’ve ever felt. I don’t know where you were emotionally through the whole thing, but I’m sure you’ll move on from me to other girls who won’t g
ive you such a hard time along the way.
Thank you for showing me that I can be wrong—sometimes, anyway.
XoXo—Tori”
So many thoughts are running through my mind when I read that. First, I’m super happy to hear from Tori, even if it is in a weird package instead of her returning my numerous (really numerous—like, embarrassingly numerous) calls and texts. Even so, I’m not mad, I’m. . . something. Happy at first, then a little melancholy that she thinks I didn’t feel the same way as her about everything.
If she doesn’t want to be with me because I’m not the guy for her, then I understand. But I don’t want it to be because of a misunderstanding. That’s not okay with me. But besides us, there’s something else in that letter that doesn’t sit right with me. I take out my phone to send yet another text that I know she’s not going to respond to—but it doesn’t matter. I just need her to read it.
Me: Got your package, and I’m going to read your entire book this time. I read your letter also, and, no matter what else happens, I refuse your withdrawal. I want you to come to that last meeting. It’s why we did all this. It’s the least I owe you. I’ll see you back in my office. I hope you’re well.
I hope you’re well! I sound like some sap in a bad movie. I don’t know what I was thinking writing that, but the rest I meant. There’s no way she’s pulling out of this last meeting. I’m going to make myself a cup of coffee, and then I’ve got some reading to do.
As the smell of sweet, sweet caffeine fills the room, I start to think of Tori.
Despite what happened, I can’t wait to see her.
I have a few things to say to her also.
But even more than that, I have something really important that I need to give her.
Tori
Four Days Later
I might vomit. I haven’t decided yet.
That would be a bad look, right? Blowing chunks all over the publisher’s floor while you’re here practically begging one of the partners to give your book a shot.
I actually have enough natural adrenaline right now to last a while. I think this is the first time in years that I haven’t started the day with a few cups of coffee. I’m not sure what I’m so nervous about, I know how this is going to go. They’re going to go through the motions, just to be polite, but I know that Cormac is going to vote no.
I hurt his feelings. I probably hurt his pride. Now this is his chance to get back at me.
I think that for about two seconds, and then I hear Shoshana’s voice—which, trust me, is an alarming thing to hear in your head first thing in the morning! She’s nuts, but she’s also really wise, and she has way more experience than me when it comes to guys and relationships. She’s told me this whole time—no, actually, she’s told me as long as I’ve known her—that all guys aren’t bad, and she seemed to really like Cormac.
I mean, what’s there not to like about him? He’s great. He’s sexy. And after all, he chased away the spiders in my vagina.
Here goes nothing.
I have that awkward moment where I have to walk inside the room last. They’re all sitting there—Cynthia, Elissa, and of course, my fake ex boyfriend. It’s the first time that I’ve seen him since that night a few weeks ago, and there’s no escaping the situation any longer.
I walk in and he makes eye contact with me right away. If it’s even possible, I forgot how deep and how blue his eyes are, and for a second, I forget books and contracts and meetings, and I’m just stuck in place.
He stands up and fidgets a little, like a kid trying on new clothes. I guess that’s what he does when he’s nervous. “Hi Tori. Thank you for coming.”
“Hi.”
I sit down, and so does he, and for a second, I forget that there are two other people in the room.
“Tori, it’s so good to see you again. And I trust that we won’t have any shenanigans like last time?” I’m always team Elissa. I love her.
Cynthia is right next to her—a woman I’ve never met before, but who I feel a tremendous amount of guilt towards for not screaming out that I had crazy sex in her bed. It was crazy, God! His tongue was like. . . Shit, focus!
“Shenanigans?” she asks.
“Nothing,” Cormac says, jumping in to defend himself. “Tori and I just had a little. . . spirited back and forth, you could say.”
“Ah. Well, I’m only back from Europe a day and I still feel pretty jet lagged, so I don’t have any time for shenanigans. Let’s do this. Elissa, you want to lead off?”
“Certainly. Tori, first of all, how are you doing?”
“I’m nervous,” I tell them. “Very nervous, if I’m being honest. But I’m happy to be here.”
“I understand. This is important to you. I’d be worried if you weren’t at least a little bit nervous, but you’re among friends.”
More than friends, Elissa. If you only knew what he did with BOB, you’d turn bright red just like I did.
“Thanks, Elissa.”
“How this works is kind of like a reality show—we each say a little piece about how we interpret your work, followed by our vote of yes or no. As you already know, the vote has to be unanimous.”
I know, Elissa. I concocted a whole experiment because of it.
“Yes, I’m aware, thank you. So which one of you is the Simon Cowell of the group?”
I secretly die inside when they both look at Cormac. We all know he’s Simon Cowell on steroids. Luckily for me, Elissa goes first.
“I’ll begin. As I said last time, Tori, I think that your work is progressive and highly appropriate in the era of the #metoo movement. While it’s not without its issues, I believe that they can be worked out in editing. That said, you have the same vote of ‘yes’ that you had from me at the initial meeting. I’d be happy to count this among our books.”
Deep breath. “Thank you so much, Elissa. I really appreciate it.”
Cynthia goes next. “Tori, first off it’s great to finally meet in you in person. I have to admit that I was on vacation when I received the initial copy of your book.”
“I know, I really appreciate you reading it when you were off trying to relax.”
“It was my pleasure,” she says. “And anyone who knows me knows that I’m never truly off of work, even when I’m walking the streets of Hamburg and Dublin. I had a copy of your material in my backpack at all times.”
“Really?”
“Well, my husband did. He carried the backpack, but I’m taking full credit.”
I laugh. It’s a little strained because I’m still too nervous to really laugh at anything, but this woman has my fate in her hands, so I’ll smile like the Joker if I have to. “You really didn’t have to read it, so thank you.”
“No, thank you, Tori. Not only do I love your social media presence and message, I loved every bit of this book. I loved seeing a written version of your podcast, plus your own thoughts on these issues. I loved it, and it’s a solid ‘yes’ for me. Which leaves our last partner, the sole ‘no’ in our last vote. Cormac, it’s your turn.”
Here we go.
“My turn, huh?” He stands up. It kind of freaks me out. It looks like he’s about to accept his party’s nomination for the presidency of the United States. But damn, does he look good in that suit! He walks around to the other side of the conference table and sits next to me. I can smell him from that chair—that musk that comes off of him. I lose my concentration for a second as I wait for him to speak.
“Tori, as you know, I was. . . pretty harsh on you last time. You didn’t deserve that, but I did have some questions that needed answering. One, in particular. Do you remember what it was?”
What the hell is he doing? “I remember. You asked me how I could speak about a subject that I didn’t have a lot of personal experience with, if I remember correctly.”
He turns back to Elissa and Cynthia. “I don’t think you two have this.” In his hands he has the new edition of my book that I sent to him, with my little post it notes
still attached to the revised sections. He passes it to Elissa and she starts paging through it. “It’s a revised version of her book, one that she sent to me.”
“Revised?” Elissa asks. “Revised how?”
“I. . . made some changes, based on the feedback that I got from Cormac. We spent some time over the past couple of weeks discussing the pros and cons of the book—what he found convincing and what was putting up a barrier to him saying yes. It’s pretty much the same book, only now I added a new foreword where I’m a little less general about all guys being such pigs.”
I still have no idea what he’s thinking, and I’m still expecting a hard no. After putting him through all the experiment stuff, where he still played along even though he didn’t have to. And then I walked out on him He’s got to be pissed.
“Alright,” Elissa says. “Well we’ll definitely need time to see the changes in the book as well, but right now it’s time for you to tell her what you’ve decided, Cormac.”
He looks right at me, and I swear that I can see that look he gave me back at the house—he doesn’t look angry, he looks like he wants me still. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking, I still have to wait and see what he’s about to say.
“I started this process a month ago, not knowing who you were or what your message was about. I thought a lot of things about you, Tori. That you were a man hating feminist, that you had an agenda, that you were just doing this to get more followers on your social media pages. I’m really happy to say that after spending some time with you. . . talking like we did over coffee a few times, that I couldn’t have been more wrong about you. You’re not a man hater, and you don’t have any agenda other than trying to give women a voice to talk about very real issues. This book—like your podcast, like your vlog, and like you, are there to help other women out, and I think that’s beautiful. So, Tori, I guess what I’m trying to say is that my vote has changed from a no to a yes, and I’m thrilled to publish this under our banner.”
The Three Kiss CLause Page 21
