Porn Stars Fall In Love Too

by Roxy Harte

  That is the grinding part for me. The bondage is fine. I love the rope and the manacles and the stretcher bars, mostly because they aren’t being used on me. I’ve learned a new appreciation while here, especially for the rope bondage. They call it Shibari and it is an art form. And honestly, from a purely aesthetic view, it is lovely to see a naked woman bound. I get it now, here, I didn’t before.

  Then there is the sheer workload. Jetlag is killing me, at least that is what I tell myself, because I’m tired and cranky. Production is way off schedule and I know how easily time could get away from me, every day has a new distraction, a new problem. It doesn’t help that nothing has gone right on set all morning.

  My email today held two posts from Simon, required appearances and social engagements that I would have to attend to fulfill my contractual obligations with Wet City. And there was one post from Dr. Abrams’ office with date confirmations for the necessary appointments to make a baby. The first, for tomorrow, will have to be rescheduled, which frustrates me, because I really thought I’d be home by now. I’m not sure what will happen if I reschedule everything, essentially delaying every step by one month...and will I even be able to keep to the new schedule once it is in play? I really want a baby, the question seems to be how to fit making that baby into my life. Preliminaries should not be taking this long.

  I try to remain open-minded during each scene, even when two baby octopuses are carried on to the set. I grab the translator by the collar. “Please tell me that isn’t lunch.”

  “Not lunch, for the next scene.”

  He points at page four. I look at my page four, seeing nothing about octopuses on my page four. I do have a notation though, manacle play, circled in bright red ink.

  “No, Ken.” I call him Ken because his Japanese name is unpronounceable and to keep from repeatedly offending him, we each took nicknames—he Ken, me Barbie. He thought I was hilarious. He assumed our nicknames allude to the fact that I look like Barbie, but no, he really does look like the Ken doll I had when I was twelve, his hair lightened from his natural black to a shade that is an auburn brown, but it is the hacked cut that is wild and messy that makes him uniquely Ken. I was glad when he had the good humor to go along with it, because I couldn’t spend two weeks trying to pronounce his name and doing a horrible job of it.

  “Bondage next. Right? Manacles?”

  He laughs so hard his cheeks spot red and tears leak out as he doubles over. “Bar-bie! Ha, ha. Not manacles, tentacles.”

  One of the models squeals and I turn around in time to see an octopus tentacle wrap around a nipple. My jaw drops. I thought I understood our many cultural differences, but I was wrong. The two models giggle delightedly, each taking a wiggling octopus in hand and I turn away, because I really don’t want to know what they plan to do with them. One of the girls screams and I turn back, imagining the worst, blood and guts, but no, the octopus has merely gotten overly curious and has the suckers from one of its tentacles attached to the back of her neck. When she pulls it free, there is a line of dark red marks on her neck.

  Octopus hickeys. Great. I sure hope the cameraman got that shot, because hiding those marks will be impossible.

  My cell phone rings and I see that it is Simon. He always has such perfect timing.

  He is yelling about the budget and delays before I even get out a decent hello. Then he tells me to plan on staying two weeks longer than originally anticipated. I don’t think, I quit, and it has absolutely nothing to do with knee socks or octopus. I regret my words as soon as they are out of my mouth. I could take it back, I could cite hormones or a short temper.

  “Baby,” he says and my short temper spikes.

  “Don’t you dare baby me. Production is down until you or someone to replace me arrives. None of the delays are my fault and the budget was impossible to start with.”

  In a condescending rant, littered royally with curse words, he cites hormones, PMS, and female hysteria as reasons why he should have never entered into our arrangement in the first place. He then tells me I will be in breach of contract and that he will sue me for any losses he incurs over delays due to my failure to perform before hanging up on me.

  I tell myself that I don’t care, I really don’t as I walk away from all of it. Even knowing a lawsuit may come of it. I refuse to admit that I was enjoying my role on the other side of the cameras, because I need to be home. If I don’t go home now, I won’t. I will be here a decade from now thinking about the day I almost decided to have a child, the day that fate dangled a relationship...

  I breathe a contented sigh and relax for the first time in two weeks.

  Back at the hotel, I grab my bags, which don’t require packing, because I have yet to unpack, and call for a shuttle. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have a flight, that I may be stranded at the airport for hours or days. I won’t be on the set.

  I close my eyes, waiting for the panic to hit. It doesn’t.

  It is only as I’m leaving, pulling the door to my hotel room closed, that I see the flashing red message light on the phone on my nightstand. Against my better judgment, I go back into the room and listen to my messages.

  There is only one and it’s from Geri. “I know you are probably pissed as hell that I disappeared off the face of the earth for almost four weeks...” she pauses, “I really suck at goodbyes. I hope it’s okay that Meg gave me this number.” She pauses and this time the pause is ridiculously long. “I went a little crazy when she told me that you’re in Japan...and that you’re having a baby. Jeez, Simone. I’m going nuts here. Call me?”

  My hand is shaking so badly that I have to have the hotel operator deal with the international connect.

  I close my eyes when I hear Geri’s voice saying hello.

  “You have no idea how good it was to hear your voice.”

  There is a long silence on the other end of the phone and then I hear her laughing, followed by a loud, “I was afraid the first words out of your mouth were going to be how pissed off you are at me.”

  “No, that would be my second sentence. Do you know how pissed off I am that you didn’t tell me you were leaving?”

  “I’m sorry. If I could do it over again, I would have waited for you to get home and taken you with me. Every day I woke up alone in British Columbia I was miserable.”

  I sigh. “I’ve really missed you.”

  “So we’re okay? You still want to see me again?” “Definitely.”

  “I can be in Tokyo tomorrow.”

  Wow. That was unexpected. “Don’t bother, I’m trying to get a flight out tonight.”

  “Honest?” she asks and I can hear the happiness in her voice. It makes me feel good. It makes me feel wonderful.

  “Honest. I’ll see you soon.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ♥

  I realize mid-flight that I am actually going to touch down in Seattle with plenty of time to make it to my appointment with Dr. Abrams. Even though that little voice in my head keeps insisting that I should go home, meet with Geri, and rekindle our relationship...the other voice in my head insists that my decision to conceive has nothing to do with Geri and that I should just keep moving forward as if there is no relationship...

  The truth is, after Simon’s deal breaker reaction, I just don’t want to take the chance. I don’t want to be talked out of having a baby. And if anyone had the power to sway me, it would be Geri, and only because I want whatever is happening between us to have a chance. But not at the price of giving up on the dream of my child.

  The waiting room is relatively empty, a surprise, but a nice one, and I am called back quickly for a vaginal ultrasound. Then, just as quickly, led to the doctor’s office, where I find him sitting at his desk. We exchange banter about my trip to Tokyo, he asks me how I’m feeling and tells me everything is going well.

  He hands me a prescription. “This is for urofollitropin.”

  His gaze catches mine and I realize this is the important part, not tha
t all of the steps before weren’t important, but this is it. “The chart says your last period started seven days ago, so I am going to give you the first injection now, to demonstrate how it is done. It is going to be a deeper, intramuscular injection, which, if you prefer, you can come into the office for once a day, but if you are comfortable you can administer yourself.”

  I hold out my hand. “I’ll be fine.”

  He hands me the script and then lifts a pre-filled syringe. He shows me the different muscles I can use and then he picks a deep muscle in my thigh, one that will be easy for me to hit, and plunges the needle under my skin. It hurts like hell. After he withdraws the needle, he says, “Rub the area for a few minutes, it will help keep down the pain and swelling. As long as you follow the instructions exactly, everything will progress as it should.”

  Our gazes lock and I smile, feeling suddenly like a co-conspirator. “Because medical science is in control.”

  He chuckles. “Exactly.” Then, more seriously, he adds, “See the nurse at scheduling, you will have several appointments over the next seven to ten days, several ultrasounds, all leading to the big event.”

  I’m nervous, but very excited as I head for the car...and the best part...I don’t vomit with fear. I’m going to make a baby.

  I feel powerful. Seven to ten days...my God. Oh my God!

  I start shaking, giddy with excitement, which is a lot better than bending in the weeds to vomit. I am taking charge of my life and the direction it is going to take. Wow. I feel lighter than air, buoyant. Though, if I dwell on everything that could go wrong...

  No, not today. I decide to only focus on the positive as I swing by the pharmacy to fill my prescription.

  My cell rings as I climb back into my car. Caller ID identifies it as Geri and, for a solid second, I let it ring, thinking it might be best if the call went to voicemail. I shake my head, not understanding my procrastination. I want to see Geri.

  I hurry to answer.

  “Can I come over?” she asks softly.

  I sit, idling in my parking space, thinking that it was probably a good thing I didn’t try to drive because my thighs start shaking. Why am I so nervous? What is happening to me? It would be so easy to turn left instead of right onto the road that takes me up my mountain, so easy to say I’m not going to be home for a while. Coward. “Sure, I’ll be home by the time you get there.”

  Pulling into my driveway, I see that Simon is already there, sitting in his car, waiting. I wish I would have kept driving past my drive and maybe he wouldn’t have noticed me. But is there any sense putting off the coming argument? Better to get it over with.

  I back in beside him so that my driver’s side door is next to his. I roll down my window, he rolls down his. He speaks first. “You are not leaving me alone on this one. You knew going in that Tokyo was going to present cultural issues, but we...” He rephrases, “You. You stand to make a large fortune at AsiaFlixxx. I stand to make a good sum of money. And I cannot run operations in Seattle and Tokyo. I just can’t do it. I’m only one man and I’m not as young as I used to be, Simone. So, no arguing, crying, or sex, I want you in the backseat of my car in ten minutes so that I can get you back to the airport.”

  “What?”

  “The private jet is waiting.”

  I open the door and step out of my car. I don’t miss his long, appreciative look at my bare legs. My skirt is short and flirty, a light yellow and blue floral expresses youthful innocence, the tight, vinyl bustier top, though pastel blue, is anything but innocent. Paired with four-inch heels, I turned a few heads at the airport terminal...and at Dr. Abrams’ office. Simon’s gawk makes me smile, you would think that he at least, would be immune.

  I step around our cars, a rare, bright Seattle sun warming me quickly. “I’m not going back to Tokyo.”

  He climbs out of his car and moves faster than I have ever seen Simon move, pulling me into his arms before I realize his intent. He looks into my eyes, wrapping my face in his hands. “We’re a good team, Simone. It killed me to insist that you retire, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make sure you are well taken care of. I love you. Do you understand?”

  I nod my head, but don’t really understand, and then he kisses me, softly at first, then harder and more demanding. He pushes me back toward the house, still controlling the kiss, but I stop him, pulling away, and then I hear the crunch on cement as Geri’s car pulls into my driveway. Oh God! Did she see him kiss me?

  I think with the angle of the drive she didn’t, but maybe... God, I hope not! I push against his chest, “Simon. No.”

  He tries to walk around me. “Whoever it is, tell them to go away. I don’t want to see anyone but you for a few hours.”

  My jaw drops as he hugs me from behind and whispers against my face, “I want to make love to you, long and sweet. Hours upon hours. Then, on the flight back to Japan, I want you to consider marrying me.” My head spins. Simon just proposed?

  I see Geri walking hesitantly up my sidewalk. From her expression and the way she’s walking, I know she saw Simon’s kiss, but then he also still has his arms wrapped around my waist. Oh fuck! The day is getting better and better.

  “I need you to go.” I push back against his chest and he leans in to kiss me again.

  “Baby, we’re a good team,” he whispers, holding my gaze. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

  Losing me? What?

  “Simon! Go,” I say frantically, fearful that Geri will get the idea that I am seeing Simon. “Stop it! I don’t want to hear anymore!”

  Simon jerks back from me and I see that he had some help moving because Geri’s hand is firm on his shoulder. “I think the lady asked you to leave.”

  “What?” he demands, turning toward Geri. Both of them bristle. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Her eyes narrow and I watch her hand close into a fist. Oh no!

  “I cannot talk to you right now, Simon.” I grab Geri’s hand and lead her down the sidewalk, me almost running, her following, leaving Simon standing in my entryway. I climb into her Jeep. “Please get me out of here,” I say as she stands looking at me.

  “I can make him leave,” she says, her fist balled around her keys. She looks scary, tough, not an ounce of fragile, standing before me in jeans, work boots, and a Columbia polo. “You don’t have to run from him.”

  She could take him.

  “Geri, no! We’re just having a misunderstanding about who is responsible for doing what in Tokyo, that’s all. I can manage Simon.”

  “I could tell by the way he was manhandling you.”

  “Will you please get in the car so that we can talk?” I ask. She looks over her shoulder to see that Simon hasn’t moved. After a moment, she finally walks around the Jeep and climbs in.

  The top is off the Jeep and the sun, which is an anomaly in this part of the country, heats my skin. Closing my eyes, I lift my face to its brightness as she starts the engine and peels out of my driveway. I’ve only ridden with Geri twice, the first time she scared me to death, the second time I was too drunk to notice her driving. I think today I should probably keep my eyes closed, because the steep curves leading down the mountain feel like a theme park ride as the wind catches my hair.

  Her tires squeal as she takes a hard right, then the jeep comes to a sudden stop. I open my eyes to find she pulled off the main road and into a small, sheltered parking area, intended for hikers. We are less than a quarter mile from my house, yet I’ve never been here before.

  It’s beautiful, even sitting in the parking lot.

  Moss grows thick on the sides of the trees and I feel as if I have been brought someplace ancient and forbidden. She turns off the engine, unbuckles her seat belt, and turns to face me. I turn to face her and am amazed at how really dark it seems under the deep canopy of trees. I tilt my head, taking her in. Her mouth is in a firm line and she’s trembling. I think she would have enjoyed making Simon leave. She would have enjoyed hurting Simon.
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br />   I unbuckle and lean over enough to touch her arm, but I don’t say anything. She doesn’t say anything either. Instead, she climbs out of the Jeep and walks into the forest. Her hands are balled into fists.

  “Well, crap!” I swear, hurrying to follow after her. My four-inch spikes make chasing her along the gravel and pine-needle-littered trail dangerous, making me wish I’d pulled them off in the Jeep.

  I find her not far on to the trail, sitting on top of a weathered picnic table. Stepping softly over a thick layer of wood chips, I stop directly in front of her and gaze into her face, really looking at her for the first time since she kissed me goodbye. She looks exhausted and worried, two lines furrow deep between her eyebrows, she’s tanned but also sunburned across the bridge of her nose, her hair is bleached even blonder by the sun. She looks like she was vacationing in the Bahamas instead of working in British Columbia. I reach up and touch her cheek. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that Simon was coming over or that he would be there when you got there.”

  “That’s not why I’m upset.”

  “I should have talked to you before...about trying to have a baby—”

  She presses her fingertips to my lips. “I’m pissed at myself okay? I’ve been mad ever since I realized that you left for Japan, with the intention of possibly relocating there. I don’t know what I expected, but coming home to find you gone wasn’t it.”