“It would. She’s just a damned stubborn woman with an independent streak. You PC feminists with your wild ideas.” I flashed her a grin.
“Did the hospital figure out who was responsible for taking the picture?”
“They did,” I sighed. “And the person was fired, which had to happen, but I don’t feel great about that either. But who does something like that?”
“No idea.”
“I’m sure I seem like a hypocrite for being this upset about an invasion of my privacy given the way we feed the media info and do stuff like this.” I subtly gestured between us. She didn’t have room to judge me since she was a willing participant in this charade too, but it was important to me to explain.
“It’s not hypocritical. That’s part of your industry. Like everything, it comes down to consent, right? You consent to share certain parts of your life, but feel violated when people take more than you’ve offered. It’s a boundary. It’s like me setting boundaries at work and having people say, well you’re a sex worker, what’s the problem? Just because I’m okay with something some of the time or with a certain client, doesn’t mean it’s an open book to do whatever you want.”
“That’s it exactly, but it’s so hard to convince people that while I’m a brand, I’m also a real person. It’s really tough to feel bad for someone who profits from the fame. People start to feel like I owe them my privacy. It gets tough to trust anyone.”
“Dammit, Mr. Chase, you’re going to make me like you. Quick, say something to piss me off.”
Before I could stop myself, I said, “You could’ve called.”
She rocked back in surprise, tilting her head as she stared at me. “The phone works both ways. I wanted to respect your need for space.”
I suddenly felt raw and exposed. “Forget it.”
The server brought our food to the table and when I noticed a pile of peas on her plate, I nodded to them with my fork. “Can I get those for you?”
She looked surprised, but slid her plate closer to me so I could remove them.
The awkward tension between us was back. We sat in silence for seconds that felt like hours, then Elena made an effort to break the tension.
She said in a low voice, “Wanna know what my superpower is?”
“Sure,” I said dismissively.
“I can guess people’s fetishes, their sexual preferences.”
I studied her, trying to decide whether she was messing with me.
“I’m serious. Not all people, but sometimes I know in a flash exactly what someone is into just from talking to them. Sometimes, it’s only a sense of whether they’re dominant or submissive…or maybe what their sexual archetype is. If they’re mostly vanilla I still sometimes have an idea of the power dynamic they like or whether they’re a giver or a receiver. But every so often I can nail their deepest fantasy before they’ve ever even spoken it aloud.”
“Prove it.”
“See, I knew you would say that, but it’s tough in a restaurant because you won’t know whether I’m right. Unless you plan on going table to table to confirm? ‘Sir, is it true you have a schoolgirl fetish?’”
I smiled without meaning to.
“For instance…” She leaned closer and lowered her voice again, giving me a thrill when she set her hand on my arm again, using it to subtly gesture. “The guy in the navy jacket right there? I’d lay money he wants to be infantilized. Can’t really explain why except that his vibe reminds me of a handful of infant clients I’ve had. Something about the way he holds himself and the way he looks at people. I know it sounds bonkers, but in interviews with new clients, I’ve gotten to test it over and over again and it’s never far off.”
“You realize I’m never going to be able to look at Jeff DeLuca the same way again, right?”
“No proof it’s true, so don’t go starting rumors.” She tapped my arm in mock censure and we both reacted to the touch.
“Okay, I’ve got one you can test it out with. Tony, the producer who was hardcore mansplaining, talked about his kinks over drinks with me one night. What’s he into?”
“That one’s too easy. He’s a foot guy. Not just feet, but feet with shoes. I’m less sure about this part, but I would guess a woman’s high heel dangling from her toes so he can see the arch of her foot would be his undoing.”
“You aren’t messing with me. I’m seriously impressed. What about Max?”
She was quiet for a moment like she was contemplating the question. “I can’t get a read on Max. It doesn’t work for everyone.”
I was in over my head, but couldn’t resist the pull to her flame. “What about me?” I challenged her with my gaze. “You could prove it with me. Pretty sure I know what I’m into.”
