In Harmony

by Helena Newbury

  When we eventually let each other go and he climbed into a cab with Ruth, the girls gathered around me. “So what’s the story there?” asked Jasmine.

  “His ex, from Ireland.” Everyone went quiet. “He’s sleeping on the floor. I trust him.”

  “But do you trust her?” asked Clarissa, and I went quiet, too.

  Jasmine gave me a hug. “Connor’s not stupid. He’ll kick her out now you’re together. Or he could just move in with you.”

  I took a deep breath. “Easy, there. We haven’t even gone out yet.” I leaned in to whisper in Jasmine’s ear. “I need your help. My place, tomorrow morning.”

  Chapter 21

  I didn’t really know what was appropriate. Then I realized that the situation was far too weird for anything to be appropriate, so I just went with breakfast. I made coffee and then hit the local bakery and brought back a huge tray of croissants, pains de raisin and pains de chocolat, Danish pastries and muffins. Then I wound up drinking most of the coffee, because I was nervous. Then I got more nervous because I’d drunk too much coffee.

  Jasmine arrived, yawning.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I know you’re normally still in bed at this time.”

  “I’m normally still out at this time. What’s up?”

  I double-checked that the door was closed and that no one had snuck in. No: we were alone.

  I took a deep breath. “How do you have sex?”

  Jasmine blinked.

  “You know how I told you about how I lost it to a firefighter when I was eighteen?” I said. “Well—”

  “Yeah, yeah, you made it up.”

  Now it was my turn to blink. “You didn’t believe that story?”

  “Karen, none of us believed that story. We didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “Oh.” I’d been proud of that story.

  “But we thought you were just exaggerating a bit, dropping the age. Everyone does that. You’ve never done it?”

  I shook my head.

  “Never? Not even, like, that time doesn’t count because…?”

  I shook my head again.

  “Wow. And now you’re dating Connor Locke and you think tonight’s the night?”

  I nodded. “I mean, I know it’s our first date, but we’ve been friends for so long….”

  “Say no more. Fortunately”—she smiled and picked up a Danish—“you’ve come to the right person.”

  “I don’t want him to know,” I blurted. “I want to seem like I know what I’m doing.”

  “By the time I’m finished with you, Connor won’t know what’s hit him. She bit into her Danish and thought for a moment. “Okay. First thing, are you ready?”

  “No. That’s why I’m talking to you.”

  “No, are you ready? Is everything neat and tidy?”

  I looked around the apartment. When I looked back at Jasmine, she had her head in her hands. “Down below,” she said.

  “Oh!” When I’d reassured her that, yes, my grooming was fine, thank you, we moved onto the sex.

  “Condoms,” she said. “Got some?”

  I shook my head.

  “Get some. Get plenty. You’ve been waiting years for this, and all that tension from being cooped up in practice rooms together…it’ll be like a dam’s burst. Now: sex.”

  I picked up a pen.

  “Really? You’re going to take notes?”

  I put down the pen.

  “Okay. Wear your heels.”

  “The Heels of Death?”

  “Of course the Heels of Death. Keep them on in the bedroom. Guys love that.”

  “How do I get my jeans off over heels?”

  “You’re wearing jeans?”

  I frowned. “I hadn’t thought about what to wear.”

  “You hadn’t thought about what to wear?!”

  “I’m not really prepared for this, am I?” I said sadly.

  She sighed. “Right. Dress or skirt. Show off those legs. Top half off, or take the dress off. Underwear and heels. Underwear off, heels and stockings stay on.”

  “Stockings?”

  “Do you want to do this the Jasmine way, or the wrong way?”

  “The right—The Jasmine way. But are you sure this isn’t a bit…much?”

  “You’re right. It’s a common male complaint: I wish my girlfriend was less sexy.”

  I nodded. “Got it. Stockings. Suspender belt?”

  “Whoah there. Let’s not move onto the advanced course just yet, rookie. Hold ups will do you just fine. Otherwise I’ll have to teach you how to get panties off while leaving the belt on.”

  “Uh?”

  “See? OK, now when you get to the bed—or wherever—you probably want to start off by going down on him. Then—”

  I raised my hand.

  “Karen, you don’t have to put your hand up. What? Oh, God, really? You’ve never gone down on a guy?”

  I gave her a look. “I’m glad I picked you to help me, Jasmine. Thanks for not making me feel stupid.”

  “Sorry. It’s just…really? Okay, okay, fine. Here.” She put her finger out in front of me.

  “What do you want me to do with that?”

  “Put it in your mouth.”

  “What?!”

  “It’ll help. Go on.”

  I looked at it doubtfully. “Have you washed your hands?”

  “Just suck on my damn finger already!”

  I opened my mouth. “This is deeply weird,” I told her, and closed my lips around her finger.

  “Okay, now suck. Jesus, not like that! You’re not a power vacuum. It’s got to be a firm, wet suck. And watch your teeth. No teeth, ever. Well, not unless he likes it.” She pushed her finger a little farther into my mouth. “Use your tongue. Right, but…no, not like that. Swirl it around and down the sides, and over the top.”

  I did my best.

  Jasmine pursed her lips. “Hmm…no. Ow! Teeth! Oh, look, just give me your finger.”

  A little hesitantly, I held my finger out to her. Immediately, her lips engulfed it, her mouth hot and wet. Her tongue slathered up and down its length and then played with the very tip. Her soft lips caressed the bottom knuckle while her cheeks sucked at the rest. I actually felt a wave of heat ripple through me. “MMFF!” I said, Jasmine’s finger still in my mouth.

  “Mmmmmm!” said Jasmine triumphantly, clearly meaning like that. I tried to replicate what she was doing and, eventually, she nodded and withdrew her finger. I pulled mine from her mouth with a wet slurp. It was tingling, and I stared at it.

  “Wow,” I said, genuinely amazed.

  “Yeah,” said Jasmine, leaning back smugly in her chair. “That’s what they all say.”

  We broke to eat and I wolfed down a pain de chocolat.

  “I need a favor from you, too, when we’re done,” Jasmine told me. She looked nervous, all of a sudden.

  “Anything. You know that.”

  She nodded and ate another Danish. “Okay,” she said when she’d licked the crumbs from her fingers. “Moving on. You probably want to start off in missionary. Please God tell me you know what missionary is?”

  I flushed. “I’m not completely sheltered.”

  “Okay. So what you don’t do is lie back and think of England. Get your hips going, like this.”

  “Like I’m hula hooping?”

  “Smaller circles. Like—Look, lie down on your back.”

  I got down on the floor on my back and opened my legs, and Jasmine prepared to climb between them. We stopped and looked at each other.

  “Or…we could just look at some porn,” she said.

  “Yes, let’s do that,” I said quickly.

  We fired up my laptop. Jasmine gave me a USB stick.

  “What’s this?”

  “All my porn. I had to cancel my internet service when things got tight, so I downloaded my favorites.”

  “But why did you bring it? I didn’t tell you what I needed help with.”

  She looked suddenly antsy.
“There’s something else on there…I’ll show you afterwards. Go on, open it up.”

  I clicked on the icon for the USB stick. Inside was a smorgasbord of porn, neatly sorted into directories and sub-directories. It was easily the most organized thing I’d ever seen Jasmine create.

  “Jasmine, there must be, like, a thousand files here.”

  “Two thousand.” She sighed. “I only had time to grab the best stuff.” She pointed me at a particular movie and we started watching. A blonde-haired woman was writhing on a bed beneath a shaven-headed, muscled stud.

  “Okay,” I said. “Feeling weird now.”

  “Focus. Observe the pelvic swirling. Observe also the way he pins her legs back in a minute…there.”

  “Ow!”

  “Yeah, you need to be stretchy for that. Natasha? No problem. And apparently Neil’s into folding up Clarissa like a pretzel. We all need to take up ballet.”

  She closed the movie. “Now after that—if he hasn’t come yet—I’d go for cowgirl.”

  I blanched a little. “Isn’t it a little early to be getting into roleplaying and stuff? And I don’t think they even have cowboys in Ireland.”

  “Jesus, how sheltered are you? It’s you riding him, face to face. Haven’t you ever watched any porn?”

  I flushed, thinking of Neil and Clarissa’s video. “Now and again.”

  “OK, so ride him: he gets to play with your boobs and you can rub yourself at the same time if you need to. Oh! Tweak your nipples. They love that.”

  “Right. Heels stay on, no teeth, hula hooping, cowgirl, tweak my nipples. Got it.” I actually felt pretty good. Some of it might be a little over the top, but at least I wouldn’t be going in cold.

  She clinked her coffee mug against mine. “And now for my favor.”

  I was still grinning. “Go for it.”

  “I want you to help me choose an escort agency.”

  The smile died on my face.

  She bit her lip. “Come on, you promised….”

  “I know, I know. I’ll do it, I just…Jasmine, are you sure? Is this really the only way?”

  She shrugged. “It’s either this or pimp myself to my landlord. If I’m going to do it, I might as well get paid top dollar, right?” I could hear the tension under her bravado.

  “And there’s really no chance,” I asked gently, “that you could move in with your brother?”

  She sighed. “Karen….” She picked up a pain au raisin and started picking the raisins out. “I spent a long time trying to get away from my family. They’re a…curse. You touch one of them, even for a second, and you pay for it for years. I am not going to wreck my life here by reconnecting with them.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Sorry.”

  She had a shortlist of agencies saved on her USB stick, and we went through them one by one. “I like this one,” she said, showing me a garish site with pictures of escorts posing in lingerie. “I’m pretty sure I could hold my own against those girls.”

  I shook my head. “You like that because you can see the competition, because they’ve got photos. Do you really want a photo of you up there, with your face showing? What if somebody you know sees it? What if your acting coach at Fenbrook sees it?”

  Jasmine shuddered. “Yeah, good point. Next.”

  We went through about ten sites, and my screen gradually filled up with pop-ups. I’m going to have to disinfect my laptop when we’re done, I thought sadly.

  “This is nice,” I said. It was a tasteful site with moody black and white pictures of the escorts. A breast here, a stockinged thigh there. Faces were never shown.

  “It’s very…tasteful,” Jasmine said doubtfully. “Do you think I’m tasteful?”

  “Absolutely! God, Jasmine, look at yourself! You’re gorgeous and eloquent and confident and men would love to….” To pay money to have you spread your legs for them, I finished silently.

  Jasmine beamed. “You really think so?”

  Sometimes she really confused me. She was so confident, but just occasionally I got a hint of a scared, insecure girl underneath. “Yes,” I said firmly. “I really think so.”

  There was a number to call if you wanted to apply. Jasmine typed it into her cell phone and then stared at it.

  “Wait,” she said. “Got any booze?”

  I looked at the clock. “It’s ten in the morning.”

  She gave me a look. “I’m about to sell my body. It’s kind of a big deal.”

  I dug out a bottle of chardonnay and poured her a large glass, which she drained. Then she hit “Call.”

  “They’re probably not open,” she said hopefully. “Not at ten in the—Oh, hi! Um. I’m calling to apply?” I listened as she gave her height, weight and measurements, her hair color, eye color and age.

  And then the questions turned to sex. I could only hear Jasmine’s end of the call, but they seemed to be asking what she was prepared to do. “Yep. Yep. No problem. Oh yes. Oh! No. Um, I haven’t before, but I would. No. Nope. No!”

  Her eyes went wide at the last one, and I wondered what on earth they’d asked that would have shocked even her. She went quiet for a while as she listened to the person at the other end and then said, “Okay, that’s fine. Okay. Thanks. Bye.”

  She hung up. “I have to go for an interview on the fifteenth. If that goes okay, I could be getting bookings the next day.”

  We looked at the clock: it was five past ten. Going from actress to prostitute had taken a little under five minutes.

  “That was scary easy,” said Jasmine. “Will you come with me, to the interview?”

  My stomach flipped over at the thought. “Of course,” I told her, and we hugged.

  “You realize I want a full report on what happens tonight?” said Jasmine as she retrieved her USB stick and prepared to leave. “You’re my protégé now. Don’t let me down.” And then she drew me close. “And don’t let the bastard break your heart.”

  ***

  When she’d gone, I stood there for a moment enjoying the spring sunshine soaking through the room. I was nervous about the date with Connor, but I was happy, and it was the first time in months I’d felt that things were going to be okay. We still had a struggle on our hands with the recital and Connor’s grades, but as long as nothing went wrong, we could pull it off.

  I’d been so focused on just graduating that I’d deliberately put all thoughts of the New York Phil out of my mind. But as I basked in the sunlight, I dared to hope. I had no idea how the scout would react to a duet as weird as ours, but if we aced it there was always a chance. Maybe, just maybe, I could get my dream back.

  My phone rang and I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  Syrupy-sweet words given a kick by the heavy Irish accent. “Karen! I’m not interrupting your practice, am I? Connor told me how hard you two are working.”

  Ruth?!

  “No, it’s…fine.” I could feel my toes curling in response to the woman.

  “When can you meet for coffee? I want us to be friends.”

  My brain shorted out. She wanted us to be friends?! “Er…great. Noon?”

  “Perfect.” She almost purred as she said it. “Let’s do Harper’s. Okay?” She made it sound like she was in a hurry, so I couldn’t think about it for long.

  “Sure,” I said, and she hung up.

  I had to run through the conversation in my head a few times before I realized that she hadn’t given me any choices at all, apart from choosing the time. But hey, this was a good thing, right? I’d assumed exes were always evil and to be avoided, but Connor considered her a friend and his friends should be my friends. Maybe that’s just how it worked—everyone was just mature and sensible and friendly about exes. It wasn’t like I had much experience to go on.

  I had to scramble to get ready because I needed to go shopping before I met Ruth. She’d managed to throw out my entire day, turning what should have been a fun trip into a mad dash.

  When I hit the stores, I spent most of the
time searching for the perfect dress. I eventually found something I thought would work—a black jersey number that came down to just above my knees and had a neckline that was just the right side of my comfort zone. I grabbed some hold ups and a bra and panties set, bought some new makeup and then found a drugstore.

  I stood at the condom display comparing different sizes, thicknesses, textures and colors for so long that someone actually came over and asked if I needed help—at which point I grabbed four different boxes, paid and ran.

  ***

  When I got to Harper’s, Ruth had already made herself at home. She was sitting there sipping a black coffee and browsing through a Fenbrook newsletter. For some reason, it made me angry; I didn’t want her in Harper’s, or around Fenbrook, or anywhere near Connor and me. It felt like she was going to pollute our beautiful, clean future with his past.

  I took a deep breath and told myself not to be childish.

  As I approached, Ruth stood up and pulled me into a hug and cheek kiss, as if I was an old friend she hadn’t seen in months. She was taller than me, and seemed to be made entirely of bone and muscle, intimidatingly stylish in a white blouse and black leather jeans. She looked—my stomach flipped over—she looked like the sort of girlfriend Connor should have.

  “I’m so glad we can be friends,” Ruth told me, as if we already were. “Tell me all about Connor and you.”

  It was like being quizzed by an evil stepmother. She was the same age as me, from what I could tell, and yet somehow managed to make me feel like a child. I told her about the recital, and Dan, and how Connor had helped me. I told her about working together, and how we’d fallen in love.

  When I’d finished, she nodded. “I understand, luv. When you’re working together all hours, it’s easy to start having feelings for each other.”

  That threw me. She made it sound like it had happened by accident, like it was all a mistake, and it wasn’t. Was it?

  Ruth leaned in as if about to share a secret and I leaned in, too. “I was a bit surprised, to tell you the truth,” she said. “You don’t seem like his type.”