Short story
Editorial
Discretion
“The
romance and emotions are amazing, but it’s like the person writing
these has never had sex before.”
I
stared at my agent, the one I had searched high and low for in trying
to get the best, as well as someone who would be GBLT-fiendly.
Everyone I asked and every bit of research suggested she was the
ultimate professional.
She
stared back, unruffled and somehow knowing. “It wouldn’t hurt to
draw from your own personal experience, even if you swear this
character is nothing like you.”
“Personal
experience, huh?” I tried to clear my throat by laughing, but my
editor did not look amused. If only she knew.
Suddenly,
her dark grey eyes narrowed and a light dawned in them or so my
paranoid intution screamed silently.
“Oh
my God!” She said, sounding like a teenage girl. “This whole
never had sex before is
your personal experience, isn’t it?” She couldn’t have sounded
more horrifed if I had just disclosed I was a serial killer.
I
mumbled something or other and looked away. We hardly knew each other
well enough for this kind of conversation. We had talked more than
usual in person this past year, but most of our communication had
always been by texting or email.
“You’re
the girl in your stories, the virgin who wants love and sex and
understanding then sex more than anything else and finally finds it
all? No wonder those parts read so painfully real.” For a flicker
of a second, her gaze seemed to soften. “Oh my.”
I
blushed so bad my face felt on fire. “I’d rather not talk about
it.”
“But
if it’s affecting your work, I think we do need to talk about it.”
“Talking
about it isn’t going to change my background. I’ll just rework
the scenes, use my imagination better and write until I get it
better.”
“I
don’t think that’s going to be enough.” She said, a weird look
coming over face, as she scrutizined me way beyond my comfort level.
“Well,
I’m certainly not going to go the other route.”
She
looked slightly amused. “And what route would that be?” She was
egging me on, she had to be.
“I’m
not going to spell it out.” I paused. “It’s too embarrassing.”
“Oh,
I don’t know about that. Personally, I think I’d like to see you
squirm a bit.”
At
that I stood up in a huff, proving myself to be a stuffy old virgin,
but not caring because she was starting to infuriate me.
Subconsciously, though, I might have been replacing the nerve she’d
hit with anger. Deep inside, I was squirming over her use
of…”squirming.” She was making fun of me when I secretly hoped
she’d mean it more suggestively.
Miranda
stopped laughing when she saw I was upset. She actually seemed to be
sorry and said so.
“That’s
alright. I shouldn’t take things so seriously.” I gathered my
papers together, though, and pretended to have a huge interest in my
briefcase.
“Holly,
I am sorry. I am.” Her voice sounded shockingly gentle and she
cautiously reached out her right hand to touch my shoulder. “I
shouldn’t be so insensitive to your plight.”
My
jaw dropped. She just kept the insults coming, didn’t she? “It’s
not a plight. Unlike my orientation, my virginity is something I
choose.”
“Any
why is that?”
I
don’t know why, but I found myself wanting to open up to her and
her change of heart. She sounded like she wanted to know, like she
cared. I plopped down in my chair. “You’ll just laugh.” I
whispered.
“Having
read your stories, I have some idea. But surely there’s more to it
than love and romance.”
“You’ll
laugh.” I insisted.
“Wow,
I really do come across as a dragon, don’t I?”
“I
wouldn’t say dragon.” I hedged. “More like ice queen who’s
never had trouble getting anyone she wanted. Some of us don’t know
what that’s like.”
“Is
that how you see your situation?” I couldn’t get over her switch
to kind and gentle. It made me want to cry.
“I
don’t think that I’m an ice queen. Uptight, yes, but-“
“No,
Holly.” She knew I knew what she meant. “The other thing. Do you
see your virginity as something no one wants?”
I swallowed hard, wondering where my outrage was…that she was asking me this, that she got right to the heart of the matter when she didn’t even know me. Did she moonlight as a therapist in her spare time?
I
didn’t want to answer, knew I shouldn’t if I wanted to hold on to
any shred of dignity, but I nodded. “Yes.” My voice came out
raspy and broken.
She
got up from behind her desk and came over to sit next to me, taking
my hands in hers. “Oh dear girl, I’m so sorry I’ve been
cavalier about all this. I just didn’t think anyone like you still
existed. It’s easy to joke at what you think is just a fairy tale.”
“A
fairy tale?” I didn’t understand.
“It
may seem to you that you’ve been thrown to the wolves, but someday
someone is going to love you very much and she’ll understand and
want what you have to offer. You’ll be someone’s fairy tale come
true.”
I
rolled my eyes at her. “I’ve heard that before…from the women
who didn’t want me or understand.”
“Well,
those women are just the ones who aren’t right for you.” She
leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “Now why don’t we look
at what we can do to jazz up the sex scenes up some on my computer.
I’ll help you fill in the holes.”
My
phone rang early the next afternoon as I sat at my computer, in the
midst of the worst writer’s block I’d ever known. Not so much
because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I had too
much…so maybe it was more like writer’s flood.
I
picked up the phone very reluctantly.
“Hello?”
Miranda’s
sultry, commanding voice greeted my ears and I shivered slightly,
though I had no clue why.
“Holly,
I have some news that I hope is good for both of us.”
“You
do?”
“Well,
before I say anything about the news, I want you to know I have a
reason for it, a reason I hope you’ll like…or at least consider.”
She paused. “I’m no longer your agent.”
“What?” I said it louder than I meant, but I was shocked and disappointed. She was, after all, the best in the business.
“What?” I said it louder than I meant, but I was shocked and disappointed. She was, after all, the best in the business.
“Your
new agent’s just as good as me, if not better, and he’ll take
very good care of you.”
“But,
Miranda, I-“
“I
like you, Holly. I know I haven’t always led you to believe that,
that I’ve been tough on you, but I like you.”
“I
like you, too, Miranda.”
“No,
Holly, I _like_ you. I’ve been as professional as possible about
it, but yesterday I could tell I was slipping and you having
confirmed what I’d begun to suspect only made me like you more.”
“I
don’t understand.” I didn’t and I knew it only made more that
much more idiotic.
She
laughed, but it was a warm, kind sound and I felt a lump rise to my
throat. “My dear girl, I can’t be your agent any more because I
want to ask you out.”
“You
do?”
She
laughed again. “Yes. I do. Is that so hard to believe?”
I
couldn’t speak for a second. I had never entertained for one second
that Miranda might like me. Assuming she was straight and completely
off limits, I had been very successful in shutting down my own
attraction to her. “Actually, it is.”
“Would
you like to meet for coffee so I can convince you in person?” Never
had she sounded so vulnerable and open.
“Today?”
“As
soon as you can meet me, if that’s alright.”
“Why
don’t you just come here now? I can make us a snack and put a pot
of coffee on. Unless-“
“No!”
Her emphatic exclamation made me smile. “That would be fine.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Again, I smiled at her nervousness. Who would have ever thought
Miranda Hilton could get so rattled?
When
she knocked on my door and I opened it. I felt incredibly shy and
speechless. I just gaped at her, knowing I must look like a fish, but
not able to help it.
“Can
I come in?” She asked quietly.
In
the short time I’d had between hanging up and her arrival, the
thought had crossed my mind that she had her own purposes for this.
I
nodded, then spoke up. “But if you’re doing this just to help
with my story, I’d rather you just tell me now.”
She
blinked. “What? Of course not! Of course not. I. Like. You. Can I
come in so we can talk about it?”
“Sure.
Gee, where are my manners?” I gestured her in.
“Despite
the differences in our experiences, I can’t help but be absolutely
charmed by your take on love and sex.”
“Don’t
you mean amused?”
We
were sitting in my living room and neither of us had touched the
coffee and cookies I had set out.
Her
eyes widened with what seemed like hurt. “Amused?” She paused,
then added in a very quiet voice: “No. Not at all. Charmed and, may
I add, quite smitten.”
“By
someone like me?” I laughed. “Really?”
There
was no doubt now I’d hurt Miranda’s feelings. “Yes, by someone
like you. Do you not think I’m capable of genuine emotion, of
liking someone kind and sweet and smart like you?”
“What
I think is not meant to reflect on you, honest.” I paused. “You
have to understand…most women run far, far away when I share that
about myself. And you…well, you…”
“Yes?” She quirked an eyebrow.
“You’re
too good for someone like me.”
“I
could say the same thing about you. I can
say the same thing, only more. You are definitely too good for me.”
“And
why do you think that?”
She
looked away for a second. I couldn’t remember her ever evading a
situation. “I’ve not always been a good person. I’ve not always
been kind to to the women with whom I’ve been.”
“And
I’ve never been with any woman. Which of us is the sadder case?”
I tried to soften my cynicism with a laugh, but failed miserably.
“Why
are you so hard on yourself about being a virgin?” She asked it
matter of factly, no judgement or disdain in her voice at all. “It’s
a wonderful gift for whomever’s lucky enough to receive it.”
“I
know all the advice columns say it’s not good to admit how lonely
you are, that it reeks of desperation and scares people away, but
that’s what I am. And I didn’t feel this way or try and date so
much until…”
“Until?”
“Until
I met you.”
Miranda
blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Have
you ever been at that stage of your life where you’ve just managed
to convince yourself you don’t need another person to be happy and
then you meet someone and you know right away you’re going to like
her, only there’s no point in all that because she’s straight and
already has someone and could never like you back that way?” I had
been looking down at my hands, but when I turned my face up to meet
hers she was staring at me.
“Yes.”
She whispered. “I have. Are you…are you saying you felt that way
when you met me? Or am I misreading the situation?”
“Of
course I’m talking about you, Miranda. Jeez, I thought I was the
one with the confidence problem. You’re that person. You’re the
person that makes everyone else seem dull, that makes going on as if
everything is still normal almost impossible.”
“Holly,
I’m not straight. And I’m single. And I like you. Can’t we
start with that?”
“But…”
I trailed off, struggling for the right words, for any words.
“But
what?” she asked gently as she got up and moved carefully next to
me, as if I were something she could startle easily.
“Why
me? You could have anyone in the world, why me?”
“Why
you?” Miranda leaned in close, her right hand carressing my cheek
as she grew ever near. “Because you are you. Because you’re just
what I’m lookng for.” And when her lips were on mine I forgot
everything else. Because she was what I was looking for too.
