The Sexpert

CHAPTER NINETEEN – EDEN

Oh. My. God.

They’re talking about me.

What are they saying? Did Andrew figure something out? Does he know? Did he tell Pierce?

My heart is beating fast and my hands are starting to get grossly sticky.

He knows. They both know. I’m gonna get sued, and fired and… My life is over. Over. It’s just…

Get a fucking grip, Eden. If ever there was a time to play things cool, it’s now.

I turn my back to them and push my glasses up my nose. It’s hard to play cool when my whole body is suddenly a pool of nervous sweat. I want to take off this stupid button-down shirt and just wear my tank top, but I have a strict no-sexy policy for all things work-related and my boobies in a tank are a definite no-no.

Calm down. They don’t know. They can’t know. If they knew they’d confront me for sure. I might not know Pierce well, but he’s a loose cannon. You don’t need to work for him to know that.

Be brave. Be bold. Be… I want another B word to inspire me in this moment because I like alliteration, but I can’t think of one.

Bubbly. No, that’s stupid.

Beautiful. No, I laugh to myself. That’s absolutely the wrong direction. Beautiful is what got me into this whole Sexpert mess in the first place. I mean, I’m not anything special in the looks department. I’m no Myrtle, for fuck’s sake. But I have… qualities.

Two of them, to be exact.

Which makes me snort to myself. And that calms me down a little.

And then I find another B word.

“What are you doing?”

I spin around and say, “Brazen!” loudly. Too loudly.

“What?” Myrtle laughs. “Why is your face all red?” But just as those words are coming out of her mouth I look past her and see Andrew and Pierce heading this way. Straight for me. And yup, something is definitely up with those two.

“Oh, shit,” I mumble. “I gotta go.”

I whirl around just as I hear Andrew say, “Eden! Wait!”

Fuck that noise.

I spy the front door and I’m just about to make a run for it, but there’s now a whole bunch of Le Man employees, having given up on the wall and making straight for the snack table, blocking my way,

“Eden!” Andrew calls again. “Wait up!”

I make a sharp right, frantic, my eyes darting back and forth trying to find an escape plan, but all I see are indoor rock walls with all those colored handholds. To make matters worse, every one of them is crowded with Le Man employees trying to get their team-building in.

Every one of them… except one.

I don’t know what my feet are thinking because they don’t wait around for a discussion with my brain. They just head towards the empty rock wall.

When I reach it, I grab onto the little plastic handhold thingy and pull myself up. My foot scratches against the fake rock, seeking a place to plant itself. Finds one, and then I’m reaching for another handhold.

“Eden!” Andrew calls again.

Shit! Climb faster!

So I do. I might not look it because I have this whole nerdy librarian thing going at work, but I’m sporty. Totally sporty. I was captain of the volleyball team in high school and college. And I did gymnastics for like seven years before my breasts threw off my center of balance when I was fifteen and I had to give up my dream of Olympic glory.

So goddammit, I’m gonna climb this wall.

I find another handhold, then my foot finds a hold, and I’m pulling myself up.

“Eden! What are you doing?”

“I’m climbing,” I call back in my most cheerful voice. “Gonna have to catch you later!”

“But wait! You’re not wearing climbing shoes! You’re gonna—”

I don’t know if he finishes his sentence. I don’t have time to worry about him anymore because my foot slips. I’m at a weird angle or something and I feel like I’m bending backwards. Every time I reach for a handhold, my fucking boobs are in the way. I’m squished up against the wall and there’s nowhere to go but…

I look down. And that’s a huge mistake. Because somehow I got halfway up this stupid wall.

“Shit!” Andrew calls. His eyes are wide with worry as he stares up at me. “Don’t move! I’m coming up to get you!”

Oh, no, you’re not, buddy! Noooo. I’m not getting stuck on this wall with you. No, sir.

My fingers find another handhold. I contort my body, releasing the pressure on my chest, and swing my leg out—toe tapping, looking for a place to anchor myself…

But I miss it, and I slip.

”Oh, my God!” someone cries from down below. “Eden is gonna fall!”

Shit. I’m gonna fall. One foot is still searching for an anchor and my hands are sweating so bad now, they’re barely hanging on.

How far is that? Fifteen feet? Twenty at the most. I won’t die, right? There’s mats down there. People fall off climbing walls all the time and live.