The Sexpert

“What are you doing on my floor?” she asks.

“I was up with Pierce. You hear the announcement?” She nods. “I convinced him that being conciliatory is way better than being litigious.” She shrinks back in her chair.

“I wondered if that was you.”

“Whattayou mean?”

“It sounded like somebody was coaching him on what to say. Figure you’re the only one he listens to, so…”

She trails off. I see the sculpture on her desk.

“Oh, good. It came.”

“Oh,” she says, looking at it. “Yeah. Just now. Andrew, I don’t—”

I put up my hand to stop her. “I want you to have it. It meant something to you. It touched you when you saw it. Well, now you can touch it.” She looks like she’s stuck in between smiling and crying. “Besides, you need an interior décor upgrade, and this feels like a good start. Enjoy.”

She reaches out tentatively and touches the piece. Her fingers trace the lines of the bodies emerging from the granite.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I watch her for a second, then say, “What do you think is going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“You think anybody is going to come forward to Pierce?” She stops touching the piece and sinks back into her chair again. “To, y’know, claim a partnership deal with Le Man? I dunno, seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.” Your honor, leading the witness. Yeah, I know.

“How…? How can he be so sure that it’s someone here? I mean seriously? Have you…?”

“Have I what?”

“Have you done your voice…thing?”

“Well, no. If I had done that already then Pierce wouldn’t be making the offer. But even I have to admit that the evidence is starting to look pretty solid that whoever stole the idea stole it from within.”

“What? Stole? What evidence? What are you talking about?”

“Know what? Don’t worry about it. It’s not your problem.” God, this sucks. “What was that on the phone when I came up?”

“What?”

“The phone. You said, ‘Now what do I do?’ What do you do about what?”

“About what?”

“Yeah. About what?”

“Who?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“What do I do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“About what?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

“What—?”

“Yeah. Pop-Tart? I enjoy Abbott and Costello as much as the next guy, but I’m not sure our version of Who’s On First is that crisp.”

She lets out a nervous laugh and says, “Oh, uh, it’s just…” She looks around like the answer is down the hall somewhere. “Uh, my boss. I’m just having a hard time with my boss.”

“Gretchen?”

She looks up at me. “Yeah…”

“Yeah, she just popped into Pierce’s office as I was leaving.”

“She did?”

I nod. “Yep. Came in to say that she thinks she knows who it is.”

“Knows who what is?”

“The Sexpert.”

“She did?” I’ve never seen Eden’s nostrils flare before. It’s cute. I like it.

“Why?” I ask her. “What’s up?”

“Did you hear her say who she thinks it is?”

She opens a bottle of water on her desk and drinks down the whole thing in one gulp.

“Good. It’s hot outside. Important to stay hydrated.”

“Did she say who she thinks it is?”

I nod slowly, my lips pursed. “She did.”

She swallows. “Who?”

“She said she thinks it’s Myrtle.”

I swear to God her eyes go bigger than the frames of her glasses. “She what?”

“She said that at first she couldn’t be sure, but then she started thinking about it, and that it has to be someone … how did she say it? Oh. ‘Playing against type.’ And that that’s what led her to Myrtle. Because she said no one would think to suspect Myrtle since she’s all leather and chains and the Sexpert is all frosting and … y’know … cupcakes.”

I let it hang in the air.

Here’s the thing: It’s not even about Eden being the Sexpert anymore. Honestly, apart from the fact that it’s making Pierce an insane obsessive, I could give a shit. This is not my fight. Or at least it wasn’t. But now it’s about this girl that I really like—like, really, really like—lying to me. Repeatedly. To my face.

And all I want—all I want—is for her to just cop to it and make it go away so that I can understand why she lied, hope to get over it, and keep on hanging out with her and putting my penis inside her. It’s that simple. That’s all I’m after.

But trust, man. Fuckin’ trust. I need it.

I’ve tee’d her up perfectly. If she’s been worried about the repercussions, I have taken that away. I’ve gotten Pierce to agree to not only not be a lunatic but to reward her. I mean, I did that partially because it’s the right thing to do, but mostly because it’ll actually help Eden. It’s a win/win. Or technically, a win/win/win. Because this way I don’t have to choose between lying to my best friend or torpedoing any chance I have with this girl who just… She’s moved into my heart, man. Like, real, real fast and real, real hard. And if she’s gonna be living there, I want her to let me help decorate the space.