“I was waiting until I knew what it was that I was telling her.”
“That you’ve made an arrangement to meet Swagger Spice in various cities around the world and have sex with him.” She’d said it with a wry smile, but the reality of it deflated me.
“I’m going to need a better explanation than that.”
She was quiet for a moment, contemplating. “Is he kind?”
“Kind? Yes.”
“And you like him? Not all the hoopla that accompanies him.” She waved her arms in the air—her gesture for “hoopla,” I gathered. “Buthim.”
I nodded.
“And he makes you happy?”
“Very.”
She smiled then, easy, her brown eyes squinting. “Then I don’t think it’s a bad thing. You deserve to be happy, Solène. Go get your rock star.”
“Thank you.” I did not need Lulit’s approval, per se. I’d already decided that I would not be thwarted regardless of her opinion. But it was nice to know I had it.
“You’re welcome,” she said, rising from the floor. And then as she was heading back into the gallery, she added, “I assume there are others.”
“What?”
“Other women…” She had said it offhandedly, but boy, did it land.
I had not assumed so. I assumed there were several before. I assumed there would be several after. But I had not allowed myself to imagine that there were others concurrently. And the realization that I had not even considered it made me suddenly ill. When? How? Where was it happening? Was he flying them to the cities that I’d declined? What was it: Seattle, Phoenix, Houston? And who, who were they?
“Did that not cross your mind?” Lulit’s voice jarred me. “Solène, he’s twenty. He’s in a boy band. There is like pussy falling from the sky. And every time he steps outside, it’s raining.”
My forehead suddenly felt clammy, my throat dry. The walls had begun to bend.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I pushed past her, rushing to the toilets in the rear of the gallery, where I promptly threw up my Sauvignon Blanc and the salad from lunch.
“Are you okay?” She was standing at the bathroom door, a concerned look on her face.
“No.”
“You’re not pregnant?”
“God, no.” I was laughing even as the tears were running down my face.
She stood watching me while I washed my hands, rinsed my mouth, and made myself presentable. And then, when I could, I faced her again. “Fuck. I like him.”
Lulit began to laugh.
“It’s not funny.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She embraced me. “This isgood. You haven’t liked anyone since Daniel. And you haven’t liked Daniel in years.”
“That’s true,” I laughed.
“I think Hayes could be a nice distraction for you. Just don’t mistake it for more than it is…” She sounded so levelheaded, like my mother. “And use a condom… always.”
The following week, Hayes came to town for a series of meetings. He arrived late on Wednesday, but I would not see him until the following night. “I have an early dinner, but I’ll rush,” he’d said on the phone. “I can come to your place.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I’d said. I was still perturbed about the conversation I’d had with Lulit: the possibility that I was one of many.
