Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Shit, am I actually considering this?
Am I out of my mind. "And that's why he won't start this business? Because he thinks you’re irresponsible and you spend all your time sleeping around?" I ask.
"One of the reasons," he says.
"What are you not telling me?" There's something I'm missing. There always is with families.
He knows there is. It's all over his face. But he doesn't say it.
And I, well—
I get a little distracted by the whole not wearing a shirt thing. He really is sculpted. Shoulders like a swimmer. The arms of a uh, well, a person who really works on their arms a lot. The strong pecs. And abs.
Not so much that he looks ridiculous.
Enough.
He is sexy.
Maybe I should focus less on his reasons and more on what I get out of this.
I can practically hear Meredith, the angel and devil on my shoulder.
We need material, Ivy!
Have some good sex, girl!
What do you care about his twisted family dynamics? Get laid!
"We didn't grow up with money," he says. "But when I was a teenager, my father's aunt married a rich man. A very generous, very rich man. All of a sudden, the family had everything. It changed us. Daniel became stiffer, more uptight. I went the other way. Ever since, he's seen me as this lazy playboy. My mother too, though she has more respect for it. The Italian culture of pleasure."
"And you can't use your boutique business as an example of your business savvy," I say.
"But if I show up with a serious girlfriend, who wants to share stories from my 'real' career, then they won't see me as a fuck-up anymore."
I take another sip of tea. I channel Meredith. What do I want? What can I get out of this? Sex. Companionship. Content for the podcast. I need that. We need that. Mer may play cool, but she’s not swimming in extra cash or opportunity. Neither of us are. "And how would this work?"
"The wedding is at my mom's place. It's a small ceremony. Family and a few friends. They’re doing some pre-wedding retreat at my mother’s house. A combination of preparation and games, to celebrate love, make sure they’re ready. Something like that. It should be a few days. A week max.”
That's different. But something I should be able to navigate, professionally at least.
"And they'll probably need help, with planning. Cynthia will need someone to hold her hand. She always gets cold feet. Daniel, too. They're both neurotic messes. They're perfect for each other that way," he says.
"Why would Cynthia want my help and not a friend’s?" I ask.
“She’ll trust you to see the situation with clear eyes,” he says.
That’s not a bad reason, but it still doesn’t explain why she doesn’t want the counsel of a friend. “I don’t know.”
“Just meet her. See how you connect. If it’s not happening, you don’t have to push it,” he says.
That’s fair enough. "You're not a planner, huh?" I ask.
"You can't plan human relationships," he says.
He has a point there. But then why is he trying to trick his way to this?
Even if it's about this business.
I'm missing something, I am.
Not your problem, Ives.
Content. Extra subscribers. Rent money for this really, really good tea. That is your problem.
Or do you want to have to buy whatever Trader Joe's has available this week?
"And what do I get out of it?"
He smiles and sits up straighter. "Now we're getting somewhere. What do you want?"
Content for my podcast, but I can't say that. Meredith and I swore when we started—we'd stay anonymous, whatever it took, even if we got married.
Still. I can ask for that. Just not in so many words.
"I want to explore my sexuality," I say. "And I want to be able to tell whoever I want—the world, if I want to."
"Write Eat, Pray, Fuck?"
"Eat, Pray, Love is a very good book," I say.
"Mom didn't like it. Said it stereotyped Italians."
That… is probably true. "Did you read it?"
"The audiobook," he says. "I liked it. Though the author reminded me of my brother. She's neurotic the way he is."
"She's adventurous too. It's an interesting combination." Like my fake podcast persona.
"I tell you what. I'll take another look, as part of the deal. Or read any other divorce memoir that speaks to you."
That's such a strange and random offer. But considerate in the weirdest way. Since I am trying to explore myself post-divorce.
Is he trying to understand me in some way? Or at least meet me halfway?
That's a lot more than my ex did.
"You can stock up on material for Talk, Listen, Fuck," he says. "Just change my name."
"So, what? We play your game all day and mine all night?"
"I don't know, Ivy, do you have that kind of stamina?" A teasing tone drops into his voice.
It makes my cheeks flush and stomach flutter.