Felicia

Walking into work together feels strange but wonderful at the same time. The fact that no one caught us getting out of the same car is good since I don’t want any flack from the other women. Rex looks amazing in his black Italian suit and light tan shirt. The shirt really accentuates his gorgeous brown eyes. I have to smile as I think back to the intensity of his orgasm the night before. I know he wasn’t expecting anything like that since we had already had sex a couple of times earlier on. I can’t believe what I would be missing out on if I hadn’t seen that catalog in Mom’s garbage. If there would’ve been a picture of women’s fashions on the cover, I never would’ve taken a second look. Maybe I shouldn’t be so judgmental toward the Bettergasms.com catalog. I never would’ve dreamed that those toys would be so much fun. I wonder how many of my friends use them but never talk about it. Becca is the only one who has ever talked about it. I have to call her and thank her for fucking around with Kip. That was what finally pushed me outside the comfort zone where I had lived my entire life. She really did me a favor whether she knows it or not.

“You two really suck at being discreet,” Sally chides us the second we step out of the elevator.

“What?” Rex snaps defensively.

“Don’t you check your business email when you’re out of the office?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips.

“Sometimes.” He shrugs with a relaxed smile. “Why?”

“Oh, we all received a batch of photos that you two will find very interesting.” She furrows her brow. “Or maybe not.”

“Photos from whom?” I ask, immediately fearing the worst.

“From the bitch on wheels who was here yesterday,” she says, immediately confirming my fear. “It looked like you two had some beautiful weather out on the island.” She snickers before turning and leaving us to deal with our transgressions.

“There’s no way,” Rex spouts with rage in his eyes. “She doesn’t even know I have a place out there.”

“She probably just followed us,” I assume. “How hard is it to tail a shiny red Ferrari?”

Barb is on the phone as we enter the executive suite, so he heads immediately into his office and grabs his laptop. The longest ten seconds of my life pass, waiting for him to pull up his email. “Goddammit!” His expression says everything. “That bitch took pictures of us out on the deck.”

“See, this is why I’ve always been conservative,” I fume, instantly wanting to strangle the woman. “What can she do with them anyway?” I ask, not fully grasping her online stature.

“She’s threatening to upload them to Tumblr. Then she’ll share the links with her eleven and a half million Twitter and Instagram followers.” His expression only gets more intense as he continues to read the email. “She’s threatening to tell everyone that she’s pregnant with my baby and now I’m out fucking around behind her back. This is so fucked up. I’m going to forward this to my attorney.”

“Do you really think he needs the pictures?” I counter, wanting as few people as possible to see them.

“He’s cool. I want him to have everything in context. This is concrete evidence that she is blackmailing me. It’s not even about child support at this point. It’s plain old extortion,” he says, pressing the button and forwarding all of it to him.

I blow out a long breath. “Wow, this is quite a way to start a day. I don’t think I can work now, but if I go home I’ll just sit around and dwell on it. I honestly can’t believe this is happening.” My stomach is in knots and I feel like I could throw up at any second.

Rex’s phone rings so he pulls it from his pocket. “It’s my attorney.” That didn’t take long. I’m sure it’s not every day he receives an email like that. “She’s actually my new intern,” he says hesitantly as they get right into it. I think both of us have moved past the fact that I’m an intern at his company. I can hear his attorney’s voice on the other end of the line but can’t make out the words. “Yeah, I realize how it will look,” he says, rolling his eyes and looking distraught. “She saw her in the office yesterday, but I’m sure she doesn’t know that she’s actually working for me,” he says, offering a little more wishful thinking. “Okay, let me know if he comes up with any good news. I could use some.”

“Fuck . . .” is all I can say after he hangs up the phone.

“Yeah, this isn’t good. We need to come up with something concrete that proves she’s framing me, otherwise I’m going to look like a total asshole. I’m out selling clones of my dick and fucking around on my baby momma. Could it get any worse?” he asks, raking his fingers through his hair.

“Never ask that question because the answer is always yes. He can obviously see that you’re being blackmailed. What did he say about that?” I ask after not being able to hear his side of the conversation.

“Oh, he didn’t even mention that. He was so wrapped up in the fact that you’re my intern. It’s not like it’s illegal to sleep with an employee, is it?”

“I know it’s frowned upon, and most companies have fraternization policies, but I doubt there are any actual laws against it. Now is probably a bad time to tell you that I’m really only seventeen,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re right, things could be worse.” He laughs and slaps me on the ass just as Barb pops her head into the room.

“Do you two need some privacy?” she asks, glaring over her reading glasses.

“No, it’s all good,” Rex replies, closing his laptop and easing back into his chair. “So, you got the pictures too?”

“Oh yeah, that was a nice way to start my morning. I hadn’t even had my first cup of coffee yet.” She stands there looking as if she’s still trying to process it. “Everything is on schedule for Friday,” she says, immediately changing the topic. “There will be thirty cases of the RH Signature models and a thousand of the new catalogs waiting for you when you get there.”

“Hey, at least something is going right,” he says, punching the numbers into his calculator. “If we sell all of them it would be almost fifty grand in profit. But that’s kind of a stretch.”

“You’ll probably get plenty of foot traffic if Jessica tells her eleven million followers to go visit the asshole who’s fucking her over,” she says bluntly. “But they probably won’t be big buyers.”

“Oh, that would be nice. Face to face with a bunch of angry women.” He pounds his head against the back of the chair. “We need a few things to go right between now and Friday.”

“Yeah, you need a bona-fide miracle,” Barb adds before turning to answer a ringing phone.

Left alone with our thoughts, the loudest sound in the room is my stomach doing flip flops. Rex opens his laptop again and pulls up the email. He remains silent while clicking through the various pictures. “She had to have been on one of the neighbor’s decks to get these pictures. I know for sure that no one was outside on the ones closest to us,” he says, turning the screen toward me.

“Don’t show me.” I close my eyes and turn away, not wanting to see how graphic they are. I’m sure I’ll have enough opportunities to see them after they are posted online.

“You look gorgeous in all of them,” he says, not understanding my distress. “If she leaks these, I think you’ll be famous overnight.” He continues to click through them.

“Seriously? You think I want to be that kind of famous?” I sneer, feeling totally appalled.

“I’m sorry. All I’m saying is that’s the worst case.” He looks up at me with those warm brown eyes. “Kim Kardashian, Paris Hilton, and even J Lo have thrived after leaked sex tapes. I should reply to her email and ask if she happens to have a video.”

Felicia

In this split second, I make the decision that I need to call my mom and tell her everything that is happening. Granted, I don’t really want any of my friends seeing this, but she’s the only one who really matters. Also, I think it’s a good idea for him to send that reply. There is probably a better chance of her not releasing anything if she thinks we actually want her to.

“Do it,” I tell him, feeling a moment of bravado. “Tell her I’ve been looking for a break into the fashion world, and since several others have pulled it off, I’m willing to try a leaked sex tape. Then I’m going to go call Mom and confess everything. She would be totally crushed if she found out secondhand.”

“Good idea. I’m going to have a discussion with that PI and see if there is anything I can do to help him speed up his investigation.” He clicks the Forward button, types the one-line question, and presses Send.

“I’m going to my office to call Mom.”

My fingers tremble as I pull the phone from my purse and unlock it. I click on my favorites and hesitate while looking down at the word Mom. It’s right above the word Becca. I click the i next to Becca’s name and click the button to send her a text. I’m not ready to talk to her.

Me: I just wanted to say thank you for sleeping with Kip. Seeing that definitely pushed me outside the safe little bubble I had been living in. Incredible things are happening now.

I press Send. I tell myself that I didn’t lie. Incredible things are happening. I never said they were all good things. I want to procrastinate for a few more minutes before calling Mom, so I sit back in my desk chair and try to imagine what it would be like to be famous for something as vile as a sex tape. Since my imagination sucks, I don’t get much of a picture, but I do get a stabbing pain in my stomach at the thought of going to my ten-year class reunion. I look down after my phone buzzes.

Becca: I’m sorry you had to see that. I was totally pissed at Kip for posting it.

I read her words several times. She’s not sorry, just sorry that I found out about it. I swallow hard, fighting back tears, thinking about how many years we’ve been friends. I met her after starting private school in third grade. She was the only one who talked to me the first day and took me into her small group of friends. If it hadn’t been for her, I would’ve probably eaten lunch alone, which was my worst fear in those days. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks as I think about no longer having her as a friend. She’s done some bad things to me, but I’ll always consider her one of my best friends growing up.

I must be overtired. I pull a few tissues from the box and think about what I want to say.

Me: I forgive you. But I have to let you go from my life. I will never forget what a great friend you once were and I will always cherish the memories. Take care.

I completely break down as I press Send. How could she do such a thing? The fact that she’s a bit morally misguided doesn’t make up for it. The fact that she didn’t immediately apologize only enforces the fact that she has no respect for me. She’s not a good friend, much less a best friend. My phone buzzes again and I see her name and number flash across the screen, but I don’t want to talk to her right now. I send it to voicemail before finally pressing the button to call Mom. I can feel my heartbeat in my throat as I wait for her to answer.

“It’s barely past eight,” she says groggily. “What’s wrong?” Tears immediately burst from my eyes again and I’m too choked up to reply. “Okay, now you’re scaring the hell out of me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I manage to squeak out, reaching for another wad of tissues. “I’m sorry, I’m having a really emotional morning,” I whisper, still not able to talk. I take a deep breath and clear my throat. “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

“That’s fine, but don’t ever scare me like that again. You know how I tend to jump to the worst conclusions,” she says, breathing a sigh of relief. “As long as you’re okay, nothing else is that big of a deal. That’s one thing I’ve learned from my therapist.” She’s been through a lot of therapy since Dad abandoned us, and she’s become a better, more caring person as a result.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m fine, but you remember that job I took a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah,” she replies hesitantly. “You got fired?” she guesses after waiting impatiently for my next sentence.

“No.” I sigh. “Kind of the opposite.”

“You fell for him and he hurt you.” She says, taking another stab at it.

“No, he’s amazing.” A smile breaks through the pain at the thought of him.

“Please just tell me what’s wrong,” she says as I try to figure out the best place to start.

“Kip and Becca got together,” I announce bluntly. “He posted a picture of them together online.”

“Oh, that slut,” she says, instantly blaming Becca since she has caused more than her fair share of problems over the years. “Virginia Thompson did that to me when we were in college. I haven’t spoken to her to this day.”

“Yeah, I told Becca that we can’t hang out anymore,” I squeak, breaking down again.

“Oh, honey, you’ll meet new people,” she says, sounding like she’s getting out of bed. “There are much better people in this world to hang out with,” she says, sounding breathless.

“Are you okay?” My thoughts immediately turn from sorrow to concern.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’ve just been a little winded ever since I was sick this winter. I need to make an appointment to get my lungs checked,” she assures me. “All that coughing probably scarred them or something.”

“Yeah, please get them checked.” I wipe the remaining tears from my eyes and clear my throat again, determined to tell her the whole story. “I was so upset after seeing Becca and Kip together that my boss, Rex, invited me to his place for dinner.”

“And a few glasses of wine later, one thing led to another,” Mom says, guessing that part of the story.

“Yeah, but we have an amazing connection,” I gush, shaking my head silently. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone.”

“I knew something was going on with you at the wedding.” She pauses momentarily and I can hear her sitting down in her favorite squeaky chair. “It’s not like you to not have any snarky comments about the bride or groom.”

“Yeah, I think I finally understand how they feel about each other.”

“Oh, don’t go off the deep end right away,” she says. “Guys can fool you in the short run. A year down the road, you’ll start seeing his true colors.” I know she’s right, but she’s more than a bit jaded so I always take relationship advice with a grain of salt.

“I know. We’re not getting married or anything.” I laugh and take a deep breath. “But we were out on Camano Island yesterday and we got a little carried away out on the deck. It was such a beautiful day. And an ex-client of his took pictures of us,” I confess.

“An ex-client?” she asks, making me realize that I haven’t shared his past profession with her either.

“Oh, did I say client? Ex-girlfriend I mean.” I giggle, hoping she will just move past it.

“He has a place on Camano? It’s gorgeous out there,” she says, much to my relief.

“Yeah, it’s absolutely beautiful, right on the water. It was such a beautiful day and I didn’t have a swimsuit along,” I start explaining.

“I get the picture. Your father and I did some crazy things in the early days,” she says, making it a little easier. “So now the ex-girlfriend or whoever has pictures of the two of you?”

“Yeah, she sent them to Rex and two other co-workers this morning,” I tell her. “She’s threatening to release them online. So I wanted you to know just in case.”

“Thank you for telling me. I never would’ve told my mother,” she replies with a laugh. “I would’ve denied it to the grave. But then, I never had legs like you.”

“Thanks for being so understanding,” I whisper, still feeling overly emotional.

“What’s done is done. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she says, transitioning to her motherly tone. “Is this Rex a good guy or just another playboy with a big wallet?”

“No, he’s a good guy. You’re going to like him,” I assure her, still a little concerned about what she will think of his past. She might be more open-minded than I give her credit for, but I think we’ve covered enough ground for one call.

“What’s his website again? I want to see a picture of him,” she says. I can actually picture her pulling out her iPad. “It was on that sex catalog. I think that’s still in the drawer in the kitchen.”

“It’s Bettergasms.com,” I tell her, knowing I’m going to have to spell it out.

“It’s what?” She giggles and sounds distracted like she’s typing it in.

“Better . . . gasms . . . so g-a-s-m-s dot com,” I spell out.

“Oh my, yes, this is what I remember seeing the first time.” There is a long pause, leaving me wondering if she’s searching for the About Us button or checking out the products. “Oh, he’s definitely a playboy,” she says after finally stumbling across his picture. “I can see why you wouldn’t turn that down, but don’t fall too hard. It’s only a matter of time before a guy like that rips your heart out.”

“I want you to meet him in person. I think you might like him,” I counter, knowing that he would be able to charm her instantly. “You liked Kip, for God’s sake, and he was an asshole.”

“Hey, he was a big, strapping athlete who had a ten-million-dollar, four-year deal,” she says defensively. “Who wouldn’t want that kind of security for their daughter?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re going to like Rex a lot better,” I inform her just as he comes walking through my office door. “Speak of the devil—he just walked through my door. I’ll call you later.” I lower my phone, a little embarrassed that he heard the tail end of my conversation. I wipe my tear-stained eyes and try to smile. Regardless of what happens in the coming weeks, I’m still hopeful that everything will work out between us.