“Thrust hard,” she said. “God, it’s been so long.” Her eyes flew open. “I need this, Cade.”
As thrilling as it was to be on top of Selena, wielding a dildo in a harness felt as precise as a pick-up-a-toy game in a grocery store lobby. No one could pick up a plush Minion with that rickety claw. Cade hesitated.
Selena grasped Cade’s ass. “Please.”
With that Cade thrust into Selena with the strength of a crew team rower and the confidence of a blindfolded driver.
“Yes,” Selena sung out. “Right there.”
Cade thrust again.
Selena clutched Cade’s hips, holding Cade to her, undulating her own hips. Her whole face contorted. “Oh, my God, that’s fucking perfect.”
Then she came with a beautiful, hawklike cry.
It was the sexiest thing Cade had ever seen.
When Selena opened her eyes, she said, “Sorry. I told you I wouldn’t last.”
“I love it.” Cade laughed.
Why not use the word love? This was better than fries or the opera.
When they were curled up together under the Crown Royal blanket, Cade said, “I always thought toys would make sex feel…I don’t know…impersonal.”
“Did it?”
Sex toys were strewn across the bed. The bottle of lube was leaking on the bedside table. The scene looked triumphant.
“I feel like a winner,” Cade said.
Chapter 29
Becket pulled the last pin from the suit she’d tailored for Selena’s presentation to the Gender Abatement Coalition. She stuck the pin into a pin cushion on the sewing table that occupied a large corner of her living room.
“Put this on,” Becket said.
Selena rose from Becket’s couch and let Becket put the jacket on her. Becket had transformed the thirty-dollar Goodwill suit. Selena admired herself in the three-way mirror Becket used for fitting her burlesque troupe.
“I look like a CEO,” Selena said.
“Sexy but professional,” Becket agreed. “Professional for the committee. Sexy for Cade.”
Selena sat back down on Becket’s sagging sofa. Becket didn’t waste money on living room furniture.
“What if I mess it up?” Selena pulled at a bit of stuffing that was escaping the sofa cushion. “You heard my eulogy.” Her stomach clenched at the idea of speaking in front of a bunch of people, knowing that what she said would decide the fate of Satisfaction Guaranteed. It made her want to pass out.
“And I’ve seen you teach. You’re a great teacher, and you’re teaching them why Satisfaction Guaranteed is so important. You’ve got this.”
“But what if we don’t get the grant?”
Becket sat down next to Selena and put an arm around her.
“We have gone over this. You and Cade being long distance is not the end of the world. If she goes back to New York, you’ll make it work.”
“We’ll be three thousand miles apart.”
“You don’t have to take the Oregon Trail to visit her.”
But how long before Selena saved up enough money for an apartment, let alone plane tickets? Selena imagined Cade in New York, wearing her subtle gray sweaters at parties with other people who wore subtle gray cashmere and owned their own apartments, which they probably called flats. Selena was sexy and fun. She knew that. It wasn’t a life plan. And she had once been a great painter. And now she understood QuickBooks (at least the basics). But would that hold Cade’s interest when they saw each other a few times a year? When Cade had to pay for everything because Selena worked at a grocery store? When everywhere Cade went there were people like Cade? Cade wanted a partner, in business and in life. Someone she could count on. Someone responsible. As much as Selena wanted to throw herself at Cade’s feet and cry, Stay…or take me with you, that was not a life strategy, and not a way to keep a woman like Cade. People with their shit together didn’t go around clinging to their lovers’ ankles begging, Don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. People with their shit together said, I like you. I’d like to see where this goes. Let’s see what happens and be sure to communicate.
“Can I practice my presentation to you again?” Selena asked Becket.
Becket’s face said, Oh, god, not again.
“Of course,” Becket said.
“You look amazing,” Cade said, when Selena walked into the kitchen, her copy of the presentation in a folder tucked under her arm.
Cade was dressed in her everyday clothes which, of course, meant she was dressed to give a make-or-break business presentation.
“Are you ready?” Cade asked.
Twenty-three run-throughs had made Selena feel as ready as she was going to be.
It was dark by the time they got to the Gentrification Abatement Coalition. The Coalition was housed in a small brick building beside a park.
“This used to be a schoolhouse,” the head of the selection committee told them as he led them into the conference room. “The Coalition actually started because we wanted to save the park and this building from development. Now we work with all sorts of landmark buildings and businesses.”
Three people waited for them in the conference room, two other men and a woman in a colorful knitted scarf. They looked like classic Portlanders, all wearing fleece, with frowzy hair and travel mugs sitting in front of them, each one printed with the good cause that had given it to them or sold it at a fundraiser. Selena saw the Pride House, something about whales, and two for a past mayoral candidate. She knew this crowd.
They sat down, and everyone introduced themselves.
After a little bit of conversation about the rain, the head of the committee said, “You can understand why we asked for an additional presentation beyond our usual grant application.”
The committee shifted in their seats. The room suddenly felt tense. The woman frowned. The men sipped their coffee in unison, which would have been funny except that Selena’s heart was racing. This was it. Their one chance to save Satisfaction Guaranteed. If they didn’t get the grant or they didn’t get enough, the creditors got the house. Cade had said they’d have to sell everything in the store, even the shelves, and give whatever they made to the vendors.
“Satisfaction Guaranteed is a very different kind of store,” the head of the committee added.
They’d anticipated this comment. Cade gave Selena an encouraging nod.
“It’s actually not,” Selena said. “I can understand why a lot of people would say that. My co-owner”—Cade was so much more than a co-owner—“definitely had that feeling when she learned what she’d inherited.”
“True that,” Cade said. “I was hoping to get some teacups.”
“Ruth has those teacups with the naked Greek goddesses on them,” Selena said.
Cade chuckled ruefully. Selena shrugged. They were perfectly in sync.
“But the fact is Satisfaction Guaranteed sells a product that makes one aspect of people’s lives more interesting, hopefully happier,” Selena went on. “It’s like selling succulents. Someone lives in a small apartment. They miss being outside. They want to bring a little bit of nature into their space. They buy an arrangement of succulents, and it brightens their life.”
She and Cade exchanged a smile.
“Satisfaction Guaranteed does that for a different aspect of people’s lives, and we need stores like this because our society makes it hard to talk about sex in an open, comfortable way.”
She went on to talk about Ruth’s vision, the charity work Ruth had done, the value of pleasure education. The committee relaxed. They laughed at her jokes. The woman nodded as Selena described the pleasure gap and how important it was to educate women about their bodies. Cade presented the store’s financial situation. She made it a story about hope and dreams.
“My aunt was a visionary,” Cade said in conclusion, “but like many visionaries, her vision didn’t extend to smart inventory management…or paying bills. But Selena and I have both vision and accounting skills. This store
is a gift to the community. It’s been a gift to me. And if it goes under, it’s quite likely that Portland will never have another store like this.”
“We were good,” Cade said, when they were on the street.
“Do you think so?” Selena clasped Cade’s hand.
“If we didn’t win them over, no one could,” Cade said, but her eyes were dark. “I don’t know if it’s going to be enough though.”
Chapter 30
The following evening,Selena found herself climbing out of an Uber into the bustle of the Portland Art Walk. “I haven’t been to the Art Walk in years,” she said.
It looked just like she remembered. The area had once been warehouses. Now the old brick buildings glowed with gallery lights. Lofts graced the upper stories of old factories. Sleek, LEED-certified highrises boasted windmills on their rooftops. And now she was here with Cade. On a real date. Like normal people. Not like two people whose lives were soon to be determined by a grant committee.
The rain had stopped. A few bistros had set up tables outside. Everything glittered.
“I love this,” Selena said. “Everyone at McLaughlin used to go. They’d all complain about it. It was all boxed wine and string quartets. If I hear one more Pachelbel’s Canon…” She affected a snooty accent. “Back in Tristess, you didn’t complain about free booze, and if someone picked up a fiddle or their old guitar and played you something, that was a gift.” Selena turned and gave Cade a quick kiss. “But if we see Alex will you still pretend to be my fiancée?”
Cade smiled.
“Yes, but I get to choose the monogrammed napkins.”
If only. Selena caught herself. She’d been with a lot of people. Some she cared about deeply, some she had had fun with for a night, some not so much fun. But she’d never thought, Sure, you can choose the napkins.
“You can have anything you want,” she said.
“I can think of a lot of things I want,” Cade said.
Selena linked her arm around Cade’s, leaning into her as they set off down the sidewalk.
“When I first got to Portland, I’d ridden my motorcycle in,” Selena said. “I went to the Art Walk. The day before I’d been on the road. I’d had lunch in Brothers. If you think Tristess is the end of the world, Brothers has fallen off the map. But they had sandwiches and gas. That was cool. Then I got to Portland, and I was…It was like nothing I’d ever seen.”
“You’d never been to Portland?”
“Biggest city I’d been to was Burns. That’s about three thousand people,” Selena said. “You probably go to things like this all the time, openings and shows and stuff.”
“It’s just free Chardonnay and cheese cubes without you.”
Cade stopped them on a street corner, swept Selena up in her arms, and kissed her on the lips. Selena kept her eyes open while they kissed so she could experience everything: the taste of Cade’s mouth, the glimpse of Cade’s hair as it swept her cheek, the bistro diners watching them. It felt like everyone on the street was happy for them, although realistically some of them were probably annoyed that she and Cade were taking up the sidewalk. Selena didn’t care.
“This is wonderful,” Selena said when they stopped kissing. “A perfect date.”
Cade took Selena’s arm again, and they continued down the street.
“So you haven’t been to New York,” Cade said.
“No.”
“I’d like to take you.”
Was she offering in a casual way? Did she mean it? Would you ask me to stay there?
“I’d love that,” Selena said.
“I’ll take you to all the tourist stuff,” Cade said. “We’ll take pictures in front of wax sculptures of Bill Clinton. We’ll go to the Stonewall Inn.”
“I’ll wear an I Heart New York thong,” Selena said.
“You will be the most beautiful person to ever wear New York tourist gear.”
They turned into a gallery at random. A caterer came by with flutes of white wine. They stood in front of a painting of daisies, sipping their box wine. Selena didn’t see the art. She was just enjoying Cade’s presence. They were about to move on to the next painting when Selena heard an unmistakable voice.
“I wouldn’t say that Derrick had an influence over my creative process. I wouldn’t give him that much power, but our marriage created a space of normativity.”
Alex. Why? Selena was having a perfect date with a woman she adored, and Alex had to be here.
Cade must have felt her stiffen. Cade glanced over her shoulder.
“Alex,” Cade confirmed.
“Let’s go,” Selena said. “I don’t want to deal with her.”
“She’s such a douche. Space of normativity. We can go. Anyway, I have a present I want to give you while we’re downtown.”
But a voice behind them said, “Is that the brilliant Ms. Mathis?”
It was one of the older professors.
“Want to run?” Cade asked.
“No,” Selena said with a sigh and turned around. “Hello, Professor Rutherford.”
Alex stood with old Professor Rutherford and a younger woman Selena didn’t recognize.
“Ms. Mathis, where have you been hiding?” Rutherford said. “Off to bigger and better things, I’m guessing.” To the younger woman, he added, “Ms. Mathis was one of our best students.” And to Selena he said, “This is our new dean, a wonderful leader for our ship of fools.”
“When did you graduate? I just took the job at McLaughlin. I probably missed you,” the dean asked conversationally.
“She dropped out,” Alex said under her breath.
“Such a shame!” Rutherford said. “We old dogs do stifle your young minds, though. Better to get out while you can. What genius work have you been up to?”
“I believe she’s an entrepreneur now.” Alex’s thin smile said, Aren’t I good for saving you the embarrassment of telling them what you’re really doing?
Alex wasn’t good.
“I run a sex toy store,” Selena said. “Satisfaction Guaranteed in NoPo.”
Alex’s eyes traveled down her body.
“I trust you are still painting,” Rutherford said.
Cade rested her hand on Selena’s waist. The touch steadied her.
“I am,” she lied.
“Really?” Alex said.
“I’ve been trying to talk her into doing a show,” Cade said. “My parents and I own a little gallery. Selena’s way above our pay grade, but hope springs eternal.”
Cade sounded so calm. This was her world.
Professor Rutherford shook Cade’s hand.
“I am the ignoble Professor Rutherford. And besides escorting the talented Ms. Mathis to the Art Walk, you are?”
“Cade.”
Rutherford pursed his lips in a dramatic O. “Is it possible that you are…? Would it be presumptuous to guess that we were in the presence of the daughter of the famous Roger and Pepper?”
Cade shrugged as if to say, Yes, if you insist.
“My father owns a little gallery.” Rutherford laughed approvingly. “So, you’re thinking of showing Ms. Mathis’s paintings? I am not surprised.”
“If she agrees,” Cade said. “She hasn’t said.”
Alex stepped forward, edging out Professor Rutherford. “A little conflict of interest?” She looked from Cade to Selena.
“Alex?” The dean frowned.
“Anyone would be lucky to show Ms. Mathis’s work,” Rutherford said. “Ms. Mathis, when you have your next show, email the department and call the alumni office. We’ve been waiting with bated breath for your entrée into the light.”
“You should come back to McLaughlin,” the dean said. “We have some exciting programs starting in the fall. Why not finish your degree?”
“Yes. Why did you leave us?” Rutherford clasped his hand to his heart. “Except that the academy had nothing to offer a woman of your talent.”
“Selena had a problem with financial aid,” Alex said, a
warning in every word. “It can be hard for first-generation students to navigate that system.”
That was true. Many maxed-out credit cards attested to that.
“We can help you sort out financial aid,” the dean said. “I was first gen too. I get it.”
“I wasn’t great with money,” Selena said, “but I dropped out because Alex and I were lovers, and she dumped me.” She had said it. Out loud. She waited for the realization that this was yet one more time when she should have thought before she spoke, but that realization didn’t come. “I was young and dumb.” She held her hand to her forehead like a swooning debutante. “I was devastated.”
Rutherford’s mouth dropped open.
The dean said, “Alex?”
Alex’s eyes burned with rage.
“So now I own a sex toy store,” Selena said, and with that, she took Cade’s hand and whisked her away as though it was very important that they look at the display of topographical woodblock prints. She was not going to give Alex the satisfaction of running out of the gallery.
But she nestled close to Cade as they stood in front of the largest woodblock print, letting Cade’s strong, solid presence ground her. Cade put her arm around Selena.
“That was fantastic,” Cade said without moving her lips. “They are going to have the most awkward walk home.”
“I can’t believe I said that,” Selena whispered.
“I love it.” Cade squeezed Selena’s hand. “If she didn’t think it was wrong to sleep with you, she shouldn’t mind you saying it in front of her colleagues.”
“Do you think they’ll really disapprove?”
“It’s wrong. I’m sure it’s against college policy. And she might have broken the law. Even if they didn’t care that she slept with you, which they should, you dropped out because of her. They missed out on having the great Selena Mathis on their alumni list. If you had finished your degree, you’d have been on every promotional flyer. The website would be like, Hello. Selena Mathis went here.”
“Nobody cares about my paintings.”
“If you show at the Elgin Gallery, the whole world will care.” Cade looked around. “She’s gone.”
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