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They’ll cut him off if they find out he’s gay.”

“Gee, talk about loving parents,” I muttered.

“Not everyone’s as lucky as you and the little princess,” she said peevishly. Then almost immediately, “Sorry. I guess I’m still bitter about my own parents. Fucking drunks.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“Anyway, let’s get back to the happy stuff. So, Tasha. We’ve been on a couple of double dates, and things are moving along. I like her, and she likes me, but we have to be careful. So… it’s complicated. Good, but complicated.”

“Makes my life with Christy seem downright ordinary.”

“Well, you still have to tell her about your deep, dark secrets. How’s that going?”

“Fine on the nudist front. She isn’t ready to know about the swinging.”

“But you think she will be?”

“Yeah. She’s a lot… wilder than I ever imagined. Like, my kind of wild.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” I said. “Not exactly the same, but she has some deep, dark secrets too.”

“That’s probably why she isn’t freaked out by some of yours.”

“I hope so. Now I just have to find the right time to tell her about the swinging.”

“Yeah, about that…”

“Oh?”

“So… um… Tasha likes guys occasionally.”

I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she snapped.

“You. You always seem to find women who’re bi instead of pure lesbian.”

“Tell me about it!”

“So,” I ventured, “what’re you thinking?”

“Well, I asked if toys’ll do, but she says she likes the real thing. Not all the time, but every once in a while.”

“That explains why she has a husband.”

“Not really. He’s a hundred percent gay. He can’t even get it up for her.

They’ve tried. That’s where you come in.”

“Ah. You need a stand-in guy who won’t cause problems.”

“Right.”

“And lemme guess,” I laughed, “while this stand-in guy is fucking your girlfriend, you’ll be fucking his girlfriend.”

“You’re a quick one,” she said without a trace of irony. “I’m serious, though,” she added. “You’re the only guy I trust. You… know how I feel about men in general. Straight ones, at least.”

“I do,” I said. “And I’m flattered.”

“Yeah, well… don’t get all full of yourself. You aren’t anything special.”

“Yes, I am, and you know it. Just like you’re special to me.”

“I’ll kick your ass you if you make me cry. Asshole.”

“I love you too,” I shot back. I heard the front door slam and then the

sound of small shoes running up the stairs.

Christy appeared in the doorway. “I’m back!” she said, breathless. “Oh, sorry. Who’re you talking to?”

“Sara.”

“Is that the princess?” Sara asked. “Tell her hi.”

“Oh,” Christy said. “Okay. Say hello for me.”

I chuckled and passed along the reciprocal greetings.

“How’s she doing?” Christy asked. “How’re things with the gallery?”

“I was just about to ask,” I said.

“Ask what?” Sara said.

“Okay,” I told them both, “no offense, but I can only talk to one of you

—”

“It’s okay,” Christy said immediately. “Finish talking to her. I’ll be downstairs. I’m hungry. My stupid metabolism.” She bent and kissed my cheek. “I love you,” she said softly. Then, louder, “We love you, Sara. Hope things are going well. Sorry about Daphne, but you’ll find someone.”

She kissed my cheek again and disappeared through the door. She was humming to herself as she pattered down the stairs.

“She’s just nice, isn’t she?” Sara said. “Like, no shit, just a nice person.”

“She is,” I agreed.

“Then you’d better not fuck it up with her. I’ll kick your ass if you’re a jerk. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said faux-contritely.

“And think about what I said, the other thing. It’s way too early—for either of us—but you’re the only guy I’d ask.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “The chemistry has to be right. The timing too.”

“Well, you have more experience than me, so I’ll take your word for it.”

“Yeah. We’ll see. Anyway, how’s the rest of your life? Things going well with Max?”

“Yeah, they are,” she said, almost in surprise “She wants to show more of my work at her gallery. She has some buyers interested in some of my large-format prints. I enlarged a series of Daphne and you. Remember the ones where you’re wearing a dog collar?”

“How could I forget?”

“I showed her those and she loved ’em. She already sold a bunch of the smaller ones. You have no idea how much money people are willing to spend

on art out here. It’s crazy, Paul! It’s a lot, even after Max takes her commission.”

“I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘well.’ I never know how much it’s going to be. One week might be a thousand dollars; the next, a hundred. I don’t have to worry about making rent or paying for food, even now that Daphne’s moved out, but I’m not exactly rolling in it.”

“You will be, though, especially with your talent.”

“Thanks. I’m starting to think that myself. If things keep going the way they are, I’ll be able to save up enough to move out of this shithole dump of an apartment.”

“That’s the spirit!”

She laughed. “You’re always so fucking positive. You even make me feel hopeful sometimes.”

“Good. I like making women happy.”

“Watch it, buster. You aren’t my type.”

“I know,” I laughed. “I’m just teasing. I do like making you happy, though. Just not the way I’m used to.”

“Save it for Christy. And maybe Tasha. Anyway, let’s talk about you. I have to go soon, and we’ve been talking about me the whole time.”

“Well, big news here too,” I said. I told her about the ski trip and how Christy and I had decided to move in together.

“Holy shit. That is big news.”

Christy herself appeared.

I said, “Yeah, we’re both pretty happy with the arrangement so far. This is the first time I’ve ever lived with someone who isn’t ‘just a roommate,’ if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sara said. “It’s a big deal getting used to someone being there all the time. I think that’s what I miss most about Daphne.”

“What’s she think?” Christy asked. “About us living together?”

“Hold on a sec,” I said to Sara. Then I held out the handset to Christy.

“Ask her yourself.”

She took it and sat on the bed next to me. I scooted toward the center to give her room. She said hello to Sara and then silently shook her head when I urged her to move closer.

“Hold on,” she said to Sara when I persisted, “Paul’s being a pest.” She

covered the mouthpiece and glared. “Will you stop!”

“I’ll stop if you sit on my lap.”

Her eyes widened but then she sighed. “You promise?” She threw her leg over mine and settled on my hips. We were both fully clothed, but the implication was obvious. She put the phone back to her ear. “Sorry about that,” she said to Sara. “He’s a total horndog sometimes.” She laughed.

“Yeah, I know.” She listened for a moment and then dutifully repeated, “You think you’re God’s gift to women.”

“I am!” I proclaimed.

Christy rolled her eyes and tried not to grin as I smiled up at her. She chatted with Sara for several minutes and listened to the gallery story, minus the description of the pictures. Then Sara must have asked about us living together.