Chapter 11
brODY
I’m in a nightmare.
Erica’s biting her bottom lip anxiously, Marv’s face is set with fury, Cara is as white as a sheet, and Piper’s staring at me, unblinking, her expression frozen.
Meanwhile, Mia is snapping photos at a mile a minute, and I’m surrounded by excited women who are acting like Christmas has come early. Multiple times. With squirting.
I can’t run. There’s nowhere to hide. I have to pull up my big-boy pants and turn lemons into lemonade.
If only I could add vodka. And a Xanax. I always knew sobriety was going to be a challenge, but this is harder than a Hollywood party where you’re forced to smile at everyone, knowing half of them are stabbing you in the back.
I reach my free hand toward Lola. “Great to meet you. Is this your store?”
“Sure is.” She gives me a nod and a firm handshake, which is oddly reassuring. Lola Monroe may look like a cross between a mermaid and a ’50s sex siren, but she’s also a professional with a business to run.
She then extends her hand to Piper. “I’m Lola. Nice to meet you. I know your mom, of course. And Harper. She’s told me all about you.”
“She has?”
“Yes. I’ve been helping her look for a space for her perfume store, and she showed me your art. You’re incredibly talented.” She smiles at me. “You must be very proud.”
I glance at Piper. Her cheeks are bright red. I don’t have the first clue about her art. But I want to know everything. I want to know if she’s still drawing dragons and elves, and the cartoon-style doodles she used to make in the margins of her math homework when she got bored.
She doesn’t have math homework anymore, idiot.
Lola is staring at me, expecting an answer.
“She’s way more talented than I am, always has been,” I reply quickly.
“I’m sure your talents extend beyond the screen,” Lola says, giving Piper a wink.
It may be only twenty degrees out here, but Piper’s cheeks could heat the whole block right now.
“Let’s go in,” Lola says to us, then addresses the surrounding crowds.
“Ladies, give us five minutes for me to show Brody around, then I’ll bring everyone in for hot glogg, the grand reveal of today’s date, and the raffle drawing, where one of you will win a gift bag guaranteed to jingle your bells. ”
The crowd oohs and giggles, and someone calls out, “Just stick a bow on Brody and I’ll take him home now!”
I’ve never been inside an “adult shop” before, but as the door closes behind us, I take in the space and my shoulders relax slightly.
If I don’t look too closely at the items on sale, it could pass for a high-end boutique, where customers are made to feel at ease before handing over their cash.
Plush velvet sofas and chairs are dotted around between glass cabinets.
There’s soft lighting, a wall of gold-framed pictures of women, and phrases painted in calligraphy around the other walls, reading: “Consent Is Sexy,” “Pleasure Is Your Birthright,” and “Own Your Yes.”
There’s even a Christmas tree.
I move closer, fingering the oddly shaped ornaments. They’re identical in shape but cast in resin, and in all different colors and sparkles. They look a bit like wishbones, but I have no clue what they’re actually meant to represent.
“They’re anatomical models of the clitoris,” Lola says, then laughs as my hand drops away.
In the background, Marv’s having a coughing fit, and Erica’s slapping his back. I know Piper’s beside me, but I can’t look at her right now.
Lola takes one from the tree and points out the different parts, like I’m in science class.
“The first full anatomical map of the clitoris was only published in 2005,” she says.
“By Professor Helen O’Connell, an Australian urologist. Her picture is on our wall of icons over there.
She literally changed the way science understands female anatomy.
Did you know the clitoris has approximately eight thousand nerve endings? ”
I shake my head.
“More than any other part of the human body,” Lola continues. “And its only purpose is for pleasure. See this bit? It’s the glans, where most of the nerve endings are. It’s the area you’re probably familiar with?”
Yes, I know where that bit is. My face is prickling with sweat, and I tug my scarf off, then nod at her questioning gaze.
She gives Piper a quick glance and smiles, seemingly reassured that I know how to make her come.
Even though I’m in public, with my soon-to-be-ex agent and Piper’s mom watching our every move, my mind suddenly gives me an image of my head between Piper’s thighs, my—
Shut up! What the hell is wrong with you?
I tug my coat open, uncomfortably hot. I need to roll around in the snow right now. That, or jump in the frigid sea.
“This bit is the body, or shaft,” Lola continues, “and it extends inward beneath the skin. The legs, known as crura, are about three and a half to five inches long and anchor the clitoris to the pelvic bone, transmitting sensations of vibration.”
For fuck’s sake, stop talking about a clitoris!
“These parts are the vestibular bulbs, which engorge when you’re turned on and hug the vaginal opening. I cast them as keychains.”
“Huh?”
Lola gestures to a glass bowl on a counter filled with them.
“Keychains. I include them free with every purchase. I want all women to understand their own anatomy. The clitoris is an organ that has been hugely underrepresented and misunderstood in medicine, education, and the media for millennia, and I want to change that.”
“I’ve got one!” Erica calls over, jiggling a sparkly pink clitoris in the air to prove her point. “I had no idea they were this big in real life! I’ve got lots of spares and wanted to give them to you and Piper as gifts, but I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
Jesus Christ.
Piper makes a noise that’s half wheeze and half strangled cry, and I’m wondering if she’s also thinking of the lube her mom left in the nightstand.
There’s a knock at the door, and an older woman pokes her head into the shop. “I’ve got the calendar. Can I bring it in?”
“Of course, Miriam. Come in. We’re just setting up.”
Miriam wheels in a trolley carrying a large wooden board with the words “Hideaway Harbor Christmas Countdown,” painted in red and green at the top. Attached via hooks is a huge pad of paper, the number sixteen painted on the top sheet.
“Hello, Erica, hello all,” Miriam says, then turns to me. “You must be the famous actor who’s pinched Dorothy’s spot today.”
I cringe. Dorothy is more than welcome to it. I’d rather be anywhere else than here right now.
“I’m sorry, I—”
She pats my arm. “Not a bother, young man. Lola’s soothing her ruffled feathers with a goodie bag, so we won’t be seeing her for a few days … if you catch my drift?”
Erica laughs loudly, and Mia snorts. Even Piper’s mouth twitches.
Fuck it. I need to embrace this moment. If I resist, then it’s uncomfortable for everyone, and the world will have a field day when they see the photos.
So, I smile at Miriam. “But when we do see Dorothy again, she’s going to have the biggest smile in Hideaway Harbor on her face?”
Miriam hoots and slaps my arm. “That’s the truth. Now, can you give me a hand with the calendar? It’s heavier than it looks.” She glances at Lola. “Where do you want it, honey? On the counter in front of the icons?”
“That would be perfect,” Lola replies, as Marv steps forward and helps me lift the calendar off the trolley and into place, unfolding a wooden brace hidden behind it to prop it upright.
Erica takes out her phone and snaps a picture. “Doesn’t that look good?”
“I’m just going to get the glogg,” Lola says. “And the raffle tickets. Erica, can you give me a hand?”
“I can help,” Cara says.
Mia puts her camera down. “Me too.”
Miriam joins them as they follow Lola out the back, leaving me, Piper, and Marv.
“Bro,” Marv says under his breath, “I had no freaking clue about this.”
“It’s okay,” I reply. “Honestly, it shows I don’t take myself that seriously, which is the message I want out there. And if you want me in the media, this is more likely to get me there than an appearance at a cupcake shop or Mom and Pop store.”
Marv frowns. “But this … a fucking dildo shop?” He glances at Piper. “Sorry.”
What the hell have I dragged her into?
“You okay with this?” I ask her. “You can leave if you want.”
She smiles, and it’s like pop rocks are going off in my stomach.
“I’ve decided to lean into it,” she says. “Pretend I’m totally cool with my mom shopping here more times than she’s had kids. Remind me to murder Mia, though, for not giving us the heads up.”
“I’ve got a veto on all photos,” Marv says. “Don’t worry. I won’t release any that look like Brody’s got a stick up his butt.”
Piper giggles. “I’m sure Lola sells sparkly ones for that explicit purpose.”
I huff out a laugh. “Thanks for being so cool about this.”
She gives me a quick curtsy. “That’s what fake girlfriends are for.”
A smile hovers in the air between us, like it’s ours and it’s precious.
I break away, going to the back of the store as the women return with glasses, jugs of steaming glogg, and a book of raffle tickets.
“Please, let me help.”
Two cats follow the women into the room, then spring onto one of the sofas and curl up next to each other.
“Clitopatra and Meowyoncé,” Lola says with a twinkle in her eye. “This is, after all, a place that celebrates the pussy.”
Piper laughs. “They’re beautiful.”
“They certainly are. Regal, self-assured, and used to being worshipped. Just like every woman should be.” She smiles at me. “It’s nearly ten. You ready?”
“As much as I’ll ever be.”
“Awesome, I’ll let them in. Erica, Cara, Miriam, please, could you help me serve the glogg?”
“Has it got alcohol in it?” Marv asks.
“Yes, aquavit,” Lola replies.
He presses a hand over his lined forehead. “Great. I’ll take two.”
“There’s also a non-alcoholic one in the green jug, if anyone would prefer that.”
“Not today, ma’am,” Marv says. “But Brody’ll have it.”