Raw

by Simone Sowood

  Although I only left because the crappy car I borrowed from my housekeeper, Tonya, started overheating. Piece of shit. I would’ve gotten farther if I’d driven my Aston Martin, but I was trying to go incognito to get away from the paparazzi. Lending Tonya my Aston Martin in exchange for her old Ford seemed like a good idea at the time. At least it let me get out of New York unseen.

  My plan was to get to my friend Owen’s country house on Delaware Bay and hibernate until the media shit storm blows over. That’s still the plan but it’s going to take me another day to get there.

  But it’ll be worth the extra time with Elsie working here. She is exactly what I need right now.

  A distraction.

  Elsie clears her throat and says, “Let’s get your room situation sorted out.”

  For the first time, I tear my eyes from Elsie and glance around the rest of the room. Fuck. There’s a bunch of camera equipment set up that I didn’t even notice before. The very last thing I need right now is anything to do with cameras. Even if it is a sexy woman posing in front of them. At least I assume that’s what’s going on here. Although why the assistant manager would be dressed up like that and taking photos is beyond me. Is there going to be a Girls of the Good Rest Inn calendar coming out next year?

  “You know what? You got a lot of equipment set up in here. I’ll move to another room.”

  Elsie’s eyes widen, and she tilts her head at me and says, “Really? How gracious of you.”

  “I know. What can I say? I’m a gracious guy,” I say, smirking.

  “In fact, you are possibly the most gracious guest we’ve ever had.”

  “Now I know you’re lying.”

  “Whatever gave you that impression?” she says and shifts her weight.

  “Careful, your blanket’s slipping,” I say, and nod to her newly exposed corset-covered left breast. Her very enticing breast. I try not to stare but fail.

  “Damn.” She looks down and notices her makeshift toga is falling apart and quickly hikes it back up.

  “Is that a new corporate uniform?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me the mystery of why you are dressed up and getting your photos taken?”

  “Why on earth would I tell you?”

  Shrugging, I say, “Why not? Don’t they pay you enough to cover your bills? Are you in debt? Shit, do you have a gambling addiction?”

  “No, I do not have a gambling addiction. And the pay is good, thank you very much,” she says, her voice sounding exasperated.

  “That’s good, I was worried about you,” I say, chuckling. She’s certainly fun to joke around with. She’s even better at this than Luna.

  “Were you, now?”

  “I was. The plight of sex workers is an issue dear to my heart.”

  “Why? Are you a pimp or a john?”

  I can’t help but laugh harder at her comment and Elsie breaks down laughing as well.

  “Elsie,” a woman’s voice says. I look around the room, it seems to be coming through the bathroom door. There are more of them in here?

  “What is it?” Elsie asks.

  “We’re running out of time. Becca has another appointment after us, she can’t overrun.”

  “Okay,” Elsie says, sighing.

  “Am I ruining your party?”

  “Let me call down to the front desk and have him bring you up a key for room two-fourteen.” Before I can respond, Elsie picks up the phone. “Nathan, you put Paul Newman in the wrong room. I said I was in two-fifteen, and now he’s in here with me. Yes, he did walk in in the middle of my photo shoot. Thank you very much. It’s fine, don’t worry but can you bring up a key to room two-fourteen in a hurry? And then correct his details on the computer. Thanks. I’d come down and get it but, you know, I’m not really dressed for the occasion.”

  She hangs up the phone, turns to me and says, “He won’t be long, in the meantime I can let you into the room next door with my master key.”

  “So that’s it?”

  “Afraid so,” she says with a broad smile. I might be imagining things, but I swear her green eyes are actually twinkling.

  “It’s been fun,” I say.

  After grabbing something off the desk, Elsie opens the door to the room a crack and pokes her head out, turning it left and right presumably making sure no one is around. Satisfied the coast is clear, she opens the door all the way and steps through it.

  “Come on, hurry up.”

  I grab my suitcase and follow her out of the room and wait as she deftly opens the room next door and steps inside. The room is the mirror image of the one we just left.

  Glancing between Elsie and the bed, I visualize throwing her onto it and wrapping her high-heeled legs around my neck. She looks at me and tilts her head and I wonder if she can read my mind. I wish she could.

  “I hope you have a good stay,” she says, gripping the door handle.

  “I have every confidence I’m going to love it here.”

  “Great. If you need anything else just phone down to the front desk.”

  “Who do I ring for room service?”

  Elsie laughs and shakes her head, “This isn’t the Ritz. There is no room service, but you can always call Domino’s.”

  No room service? I’ve never stayed in a hotel without it before. How am I supposed to eat?

  “Is there a minibar at least?”

  “There’s a Coke machine in the hall. And ice.”

  “That’s something, I guess.”

  “I’m sure you’ll survive. Now excuse me, I have to hurry.” Elsie checks the hallway and steps through the door.

  “Hey Elsie,” I call, half following her out of the room.

  She turns to me and our eyes connect. I could seriously get lost in them. “Yeah?”

  “You can call me Xander.”

  Her eyes flare wide and her mouth widens. “I knew it.”

  “Shh, it’s our secret.”

  “I always respect my guests’ privacy, Paul.” I may be imagining it, but I swear her voice just got breathier.

  The noise of the elevator door echoes down the hallway and Elsie hurries into her room. With any luck, she’ll be working later.

  Dragging my feet, I walk across the room and flop down onto the bed. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and call Owen.

  “Hey, did you make it?” Owen says without saying hello.

  “No, the fucking car broke down. I’m at some cheap hotel in Trenton.”

  “Have you seen the latest?” he asks.

  I roll my eyes and say, “What is it now?”

  “She says you were into pegging.”

  The weight grows in my chest again. Over the course of the day it’s turned into a crushing boulder. Knowing Luna, this is all a big joke to her. All I can do is brace for whatever she comes up with next. Although it’s difficult to imagine something worse than pegging.

  Chapter 4

  Elsie

  As the hotel room door clicks behind me I inhale deeply, trying to catch my breath. I figured it was him, I knew it was him, but somehow I didn’t fully believe it until he actually said to call him Xander.

  Although that’s not why my heart is racing and I’m so excited. I don’t follow reality TV shows. I only know who he is because, well, because everyone knows who he is. Last year he was voted the Sexiest Man Alive.

  When we spoke it was natural and normal, and it wasn’t me, the regular girl, meeting famous hot guy. And when he took my hand into his, it felt like Cinderella’s foot slipping into the glass slipper.

  Not that it matters, as if anything would ever happen between us. Besides he has a girlfriend, Luna. She’s the one with the reality TV show, Lunatics. He only goes on her show as far as I know, he doesn’t have his own.

  “Hurry up and get in here,” Isabel says grabbing my hand and yanking me deeper into the room.

  As I walk, Isabel unravels me from the accent blanket. I feel pretty silly, having been wrapped
in a throw blanket while talking with the most famous person I have ever met, although at the time I didn’t really think about how I must look.

  “Let’s do a few more photos of you and then move on to the nasty shoot,” Becca says in a friendly voice and winking at me. Why on earth is she winking at me?

  Taking more photos was the last thing on my mind, but I feel, I dunno, sexy right now and figure why not. Isabel fluffs up my hair for good measure and I position myself in front of the bed. Becca moves in close with her camera and I strike a pose, my legs wide apart, bent slightly forward at the hips and my hands on the insides of my thighs. While I look straight into the camera, I imagine the way I felt when Xander touched me and I think the feeling reflects in my expression with my intense gaze and a hungry mouth.

  “That’s it, girl. Work it,” Becca says, moving quickly back and forth capturing me in both wide and close angles. At this moment I actually do feel like a sexy lingerie model and have a lot of fun playing to the camera.

  I get more and more bold, and end up sprawling out on the bed. Becca stands on a chair and takes photos of me from above while I move my hands around, running them through my hair and down over my body.

  “Sorry, girls. Times up or I won’t get a turn,” Isabel says, grabbing my hand and yanking me off the bed.

  “Shit, I can’t be late to relieve Nathan from the front desk,” I say and kick off my heels.

  “You know he probably left the front desk like three minutes ago, right?” Isabel says.

  I glance at the clock on the desk and realize she’s correct. Without caring that Becca is in the room, I step out of the thong, and realize it’s sopping wet from my interaction with Xander. I shove it deep into my purse before the others notice. Wrestling my way out of the corset, I take a deep breath, glad to be free from the restriction of the boning and that I can finally fill my lungs again and pull on my regular bra and panties. In the interest of speed, I leave on the thigh-high stockings and grab my work clothes from the closet – a navy blue skirt and matching blazer with a white blouse.

  “That was crazy, wasn’t it? That guy just walking in here,” Becca says.

  “Yeah, Nathan really fucked up this time,” Isabel says, laughing. She’s always teasing Nathan about his mistakes. He’ll never hear the end of this one.

  After buttoning my blouse, I realize my fingers were moving so fast that I didn’t line the buttons up properly. I sigh in annoyance and quickly redo them.

  “That’s fine, it doesn’t matter. No harm done,” I say. In truth I’m glad the whole thing happened, even if it is embarrassing on my part.

  “I didn’t even get a good look at the guy, but he seemed kinda hot,” Isabel says.

  “That’s because you chickened out and hid in the bathroom leaving me to deal with him by myself,” I say, pulling on my skirt.

  Isabel burst out laughing and says, “That’s because you’re the assistant manager. It’s your job isn’t it?”

  “I wasn’t exactly in my assistant manager uniform, was I?”

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said nasty,” Becca says, and I snap my head around to see what she’s referring to.

  Isabel has slipped on my killer heels and stands with her hands on her hips looking proud. I don’t even know what she’s wearing other than the fact that it isn’t actually clothing. It’s some kind of black satin strapping crisscrosses her body. It’s covering her nipples and crotch and not a whole lot else but damn, it certainly screams fuck me. Her boyfriend, Larson, is not going to be disappointed with these photos.

  “You look like a sex machine,” I say.

  “Thanks, babe,” Isabel says, not bothering to look my way.

  “Okay, I gotta run,” I say, pulling on my blazer.

  “Laters,” Isabel says.

  “Thanks a lot, Becca. I look forward to seeing the photos,” I call out as I open the door.

  “Any time,” Becca says.

  Normally I’d take the stairs, even though my knee keeps giving out, but the elevator is waiting and I step into it. While it descends I de-pouf my hair, trying to return it to its normal tame appearance for my position at the front desk. The door opens and I hurry across the stark white hallway to the front desk.

  The desk is more of a long counter and runs along one of the walls so that it faces the front door. Along the wall behind the desk are TVs, each one tuned into a different twenty-four-hour news station.

  “You’re still here,” I say when I spot Nathan standing dutifully at his station.

  “You’re lucky, darling, I had the time wrong. The meeting doesn’t start for another few minutes. And anyway, after the way that I sent Paul Newman into your room I figured I owed you,” Nathan says, his head waggling as he talks.

  “I still don’t understand how you managed to do that but it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

  Nathan inhales sharply and exclaims, “Because Paul Newman is really Xander Whitman, isn’t he?”

  I shrug but I’m unable to hide the truth from Nathan. He can spot a bullshitter from a thousand yards. “I think so,” I say, trying to bargain with myself that I’m not betraying Xander’s trust by saying anything definite.

  “OMG, did you see the latest?”

  “No, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “What rock do you live under, woman?” Nathan looks at me with disappointment.

  “A big one?”

  “It’s been all explosive Xander Whitman sex scandal all the time over the past twenty-four hours. It’s been looping nonstop on all three of those TVs behind you. Luna said she had to break the silence because he was so crazy in bed. Like even, crazy for me, crazy. And then while you were upstairs there was another breaking allegation saying he’s really, like really really, into pegging,” Nathan says, his voice getting more and more excited and his arms more and more animated with each word.

  My mind spins as I digest his words. Does the sex scandal explain why he ended up at this hotel? He seemed so normal, but I guess you can never tell. I have to ask, “Okay, what the hell is pegging?”

  Nathan bursts out in his high-pitched laugh and says, “Sugar, that’s when the girl straps on a dildo and pounds his ass like a Texan drilling for oil.”

  I screw my nose up at him and turn to look at the screens hanging on the wall, wondering if Xander really does that.

  “Why would he do that if he isn’t gay?” I ask sheepishly.

  Nathan cackles and says, “Sweet naïve child, all men have prostates. Trust me, it ain’t just the flaming gay ones who like stuff shoved up there.”

  I stare silently at Nathan, contemplating what it would’ve been like to wear a strap-on and ream out my last boyfriend’s ass. That would’ve been a great way of venting some of my anger at him for being such a jerk.

  “I know, it leaves you speechless, right? Oh, before I forget, your doctor called, something about tests. Now I really do have to love and leave you. Kisses, darling, I shouldn’t be long. Cynthia said it was only a twenty-minute meeting on something or other.” Nathan kisses the air three times and heads off in the direction of Cynthia’s office.

  Tests. I swear it’s been two years and all they do is test me more and more and never figure out what’s wrong with me. Although, at the rate my imagination works, maybe not knowing what’s wrong is better than actually knowing.

  Chapter 5

  Xander

  As genius as the show is, I can’t watch another episode of BoJack Horseman. When I finished talking to Owen, I tossed my phone across the room to avoid the media scandal and instead binge watched the cartoon.

  My Twitter account must be going bonkers. I can only imagine how many messages I have from women promising they will meet all my kinky needs. And even more from haters.

  How did I ever quasi-agree to this? If you count a drunken “sure, go ahead and do whatever you need to do to rescue your ratings” throwaway comment as being consent to outlandish sex claims.

  The fun
niest thing is Luna and I have never even had sex. I’ve never even kissed her properly. The whole idea is nasty considering we’re practically siblings. The idea of any sort of sexual relationship with her is a complete nonstarter. At least our parents know this news story is all horseshit.

  After Luna got her reality TV show, she came up with the idea of pretending to be a couple in order to boost the ratings. I never foresaw it ending like this.

  Luna is telling everyone that, despite her tell-all, we are still a couple and very much in love. She thinks this will put her ratings through the roof as people will tune in for any hints of what we got up to in the bedroom the night before. I’m not sure I can carry on the illusion any longer and right now I really have no desire to ever be on her show again. Except she’ll kill me. She is like a sister, after all, and she’s not above freaking out on me.

  Fuck it. My curiosity has the better of me and I flick to a news channel.

  A talking blonde says: More for you now on the sensational sex life of Luna Grosvenor and Xander Whitman. In an unprecedented move, Grosvenor used her reality TV show, Lunatics, to have a friend interview her about what dating the world’s sexiest man is really like. And no matter what your point of view is, the details of the couple’s sex life is shocking. Many people are calling his sexual demands part of our modern society norms whereas others are saying Whitman is perverted. If you haven’t been following the story let’s just say there was threesomes, orgies, ropes, ball gags and most recently a new word for us all here today – pegging. If you don’t know what that is, it’s not something we can really say on air, but all the details are on our website.

  I exhale sharply, glad nothing else after the pegging has been said, at least not yet. Luna’s probably out of ideas. Knowing her, she’s asking my father about other outrageous sexual behavior.

  She needs to be told that enough is enough. I should never have let it run as long as it has but there’s nothing I can do about that now. We thought it would be something only her fans cared about, not this ridiculous media shit show that’s apparently gripping the entire nation.