“And did he say what he’s working on?”
“No. Just said that he’ll do some filming tomorrow night.”
“Oh my God, I wish I could come with you.”
I scrunched my nose. “As much as I love having you around, I think sitting there with you while others are having sex would be too strange.”
She thought about it for a moment, then scrunched her nose too. “When you put it like that, it does sound weird.”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t, anyway. My dad’s making me go to dinner with him tomorrow night. One of his ‘networking things.’ I have to sit through steak and business talk while pretending to care.”
“That sounds painful,” I said, sympathetic but amused.
“Itispainful. And you’ll be having the time of your life, surrounded by porn stars and fake moaning.”
I groaned. “Holland, don’t put it that way.”
“What? I’m jealous,” she said, laughing. “You’re getting firsthand insight into the psychology of pleasure or whatever fancy academic label you’ll slap on it. I’ll be stuck with my dad and his boring coworkers.”
“I’m sorry.” I pursed my lips and watched her on my screen. “We can hang out Friday night if you want.”
“Please. And when we do, you have to tell me every detail. Actually, no. Text me every detail tomorrow night. Doesn’t matter what time it is. I want every single detail.”
“You want me to turn research into gossip?”
“A hundred percent.”
I laughed quietly. “Okay. I’ll text you all the details.”
“Good.” She smiled sleepily. “Now go to bed, future porn scholar. You have to be fresh and ready for your “research” tomorrow night.”
I rolled my eyes at her calling me a porn scholar but couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “Okay. Goodnight, Holls.”
When the call ended, I set my phone down and stared at the ceiling. My thoughts were too restless to get them to quiet down.
Tomorrow night, I’d walk into that room and see Callan doing what he did best, while I sat there taking notes.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how strange it would feel. But I was determined, and in a way, I had a good feeling about this essay.
10
Callan
“I want everyone out,” I said, stepping back into the room after talking to Lana. “Everyone except you.”
“Me?” the redhead asked, pointing at herself with wide eyes. She looked too much like Lana.
And still, I wanted her there for something that wouldn’t be filmed.
“You need us later?” Trey, another one of my friends who helped with the camera work, asked.
“No, you can go home.”
“All right.” Trey looked at the redhead and winked. “Don’t be nervous, sweetheart. You’ve got talent. My man here will make sure you’re ready for tomorrow’s shoot.”
When he left the room with the others, I closed the door, then headed to the setup to turn off every camera and most of the lights.
