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by S. J. Pajonas


  Lee Park

  I want you to tell me everything, Laura.

  I’m going to tell him everything but first I’m going to win him over completely. The sexy photos are first on my list. I shouldn’t use my own body to curry favor but I’m pulling no punches. Whatever it takes.

  Laura Merchant

  I will :) Ok, I’m off to test the merchandise.

  Xoxo

  Lee Park

  Think of me, gorgeous. Xoxo

  He must know by now he’s the only one I think of.

  I gather up all the candles in the house and bring them to my room. I line them up on my dresser, light them, and change into my new sexy underwear, a black lace bra that doesn’t leave much to the imagination and tiny black underwear. I get my robe on and clean up in the bathroom, brushing out my hair, and reapply my makeup with a dramatic, black liquid liner cat-eye and a new coral lip gloss I picked up last week.

  Back in the bedroom, I make my bed and remove clutter from around it. In the closet, with my ancient film camera, is my old tripod so I set it up at the foot of the bed and get going. The candles all on one side make for dramatic and sexy lighting. I have to open up the aperture all the way and hold my poses as still as possible. I take a few fun shots of me laying on my stomach, legs bent at the knee, and my ankles crossed, then I raise the tripod high and angle the camera down. I’m constantly up and down off my bed setting the self-timer that, after thirty shots, I’m laughing hysterically at my situation. When did I become this woman? I never thought I’d have virtual sex or send my boyfriend boudoir photos. But it’s so fun, not seedy at all. It’s empowering. I’m happy with myself and this body, and why shouldn’t I show it off to Lee?

  After an hour, I have enough photos to edit into a sizable group. I get dressed, and, once all the candles are out, I open my computer, download all the images, and pick out ten to edit, crop, and adjust. What should I do with all of these? There are some of me laying on the bed and one of me on all fours, head cocked with a smile towards the camera. I like the arms-length shots of just my face and cleavage, too, and I took a few of my backside, careful that my tattoo is covered by my hair, my face in profile looking over my shoulder. I’m not ready to talk with Lee about my tattoo and what it means to me. The collection is a good mix of poses, and I’m sure he will be able to see how happy I am. Do I get them printed and send them? Is that embarrassing? What would I say when I pick them up from the printer?

  I burst into a laugh imagining the Orthodox Jewish men at Adorama printing up my photos and handing them over to me. Oh my god, I have to do it. It’ll be hilarious. I can’t wait to tell Justin. He’ll die. But then that gives me another idea too. I plug my iPhone into my computer and download all the photos Lee sent me of India. “To Laura. From Lee.” I’ll get these printed up too, frame them, and send them to him. I want him to look at these photos and remember his travels and how he shared them with me.

  It’s midnight before I’m done sending all my files over to Adorama. I purchase a book of the boudoir photos and prints of India, and I can pick them all up on Monday.

  Now, before I fall off to sleep, it’s time to see what the wand can really do.

  Chapter

  Twenty

  =

  Lee

  Friday night, the evening before I take off and head back to Seoul, I treat all of my colleagues to dinner and drinks in Pune. When you travel like I do, wining and dining the client as much as possible is part of the job description, but these nightly business excursions also stand in the way of me seeing the places I travel to. They suck the fun out of my international stays.

  I did what Laura suggested, though. Besides the items I bought for her, I also purchased a few things for my apartment: a brass elephant; a dark blue silk wall-hanging from the same shop as Laura’s sari; and in Pune, a giant print of Ganesha, the elephant-headed Indian Hindu god known for “removing obstacles.” I think I need that. I had all the items sent home.

  Everything is different for me on this trip. My mind isn’t with me, and sitting at dinner, I can’t concentrate on conversations. John, a Brit who works for my client, leans towards me when the rest of the table is engrossed in cricket talk.

  “What’s going on with you, Lee? Everything okay at home?”

  “Oh, fine, John. Everything’s fine. There’s just a lot going on.” I sit back in my chair and brush a few grains of rice from the front of my pants. I’ve already sweat through my white cotton shirt. “My father finished closing arguments on a big case back home. We expect to hear news any day now.”

  “How’s that girlfriend of yours? Sandra?”

  “Gone. Done. I have a new girlfriend. Her name is Laura.”

  “Ah.” He raises his glass of beer. “Now your distraction makes sense. Bet you’re looking forward to getting back to Seoul so you can see her.”

  “Virtually, yes. She lives in New York.”

  “Christ, Lee. What is up with you and the long distance relationships?”

  “I have a knack for them.” I finish my beer and set it down in its pool of condensation on the table. “Sandra was a total mistake. But Laura? Laura’s the right one. I need to figure out how to get her to Seoul.”

  “But you’re never in Seoul, Lee. At least, as long as I’ve worked with you. Every time we exchange another email you’re in Shanghai or Hong Kong or Tokyo.”

  This is when I keep my mouth shut. The last thing I want to do is tell my client I want to quit my job.

  “Yes, I think I’m in Tokyo in two weeks. Shall we move on to the bar for drinks?”

  I invited everyone back to my hotel for dinner because the Shakahari restaurant has vegetarian options which is important for treating people in India. Most of my clients here are vegetarians, and I try to make sure they’re all accommodated. Not all of them are drinkers, though, so when the meal is over, John and I head to the rooftop bar. My iPhone buzzes in my pocket so I order a Scotch and pull it out to check it while John gets more beer.

  Laura Merchant

  I’m sorry to interrupt you.

  I know you’re working but I just want to say hi.

  She’s so polite, it hurts. She should interrupt me any time she wants. I would make her my first priority if I could.

  Lee Park

  You’re not interrupting. I’m having a drink with a friend here.

  Laura Merchant

  Oh. Ok. I’m almost afraid to ask, but a woman?

  Forget I asked. Sorry.

  This is the hardest part of our relationship. I can’t see her, and she can’t see me. She has no idea I spent my entire dinner thinking or talking about her. Our relationship is so new, she doesn’t know she can trust me yet.

  “Bad news?” John nods his head at my phone, his golden hair bobbing over this forehead. He stands out here in India, tall, pale, and blond. I should get better at my poker face.

  “My girlfriend, Laura. I think she’s hoping you’re a man and not another woman.”

  “Tell her I’m a leggy blond with giant tits. She’ll think it’s hilarious.”

  “You know what? It’s people like you that get innocents like me into trouble. Drink up. I’ll be right back.” I roll my eyes at him as he looks past me to the two women who sit down opposite me. John grabs my arm and stops me.

  “Lee, come on.” He sighs, his mouth cocking to the side. “Every time you come to India, women practically fall all over you, but you ignore them, which, quite frankly, is no good for me. Let’s divide and conquer tonight. This girlfriend of yours can’t be serious. You haven’t been dating her long. Just blow her off.”

  I glance at the ladies again, and the Indian woman in her late twenties smiles at me, her brunette friend waving slightly. I met Laura in a bar in New York, but I’ll never forget the way she snapped at me and told me to mind my own business, then brazenly bought me a drink. It was unexpected and forward. It was real, not coy or practiced. It was how people who are perfect for each other meet, coincident
ally, accidentally.

  I can’t explain this to John. He won’t get it — I barely understand — but I know what’s right and wrong this time around.

  “They’re all yours, John.”

  Along the edge of the rooftop bar, glass walls and softly lit lanterns divide the view of Pune. Long avenues and neon lights stretch out into the far distance, honking horns, and hundreds of pedestrians crowd the area around the hotel. Friday is busy in every part of the world.

  Lee Park

  It’s cute that you’re jealous, but no, out with my client, John.

  He’s the only one willing to have a drink with me this evening.

  Everyone else went home after dinner.

  Laura Merchant

  I’m sorry. I have no right be jealous or try to control you from a distance.

  Lee Park

  Of course, you have a right. You’re my girlfriend.

  You can trust me, Laura. You’re the only one I think about.

  Laura Merchant

  I trust you. I just miss you, and I’m even jealous of John :)

  Because he’s spending time with you.

  Lee Park

  I’ve been thinking about coming to see you.

  Sooner rather than later.

  Laura Merchant

  What did you have in mind?

  Lee Park

  A little over a week from now?

  I don’t want to get your hopes up but it’s in the works.

  Laura Merchant

  Really? That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!

  Considering my mother is leaving next Wednesday for her wedding in the Bahamas, it’s even better.

  I’ll be homeless before long.

  If you’re really going to come, you should come sooner rather than later.

  Lee Park

  Oh, Laura. I’m sorry this is happening to you.

  Laura Merchant

  Shit. I’m crying.

  I haven’t cried once since this all happened.

  I was feeling proud of that.

  Lee Park

  We’ll talk about all of this when I see you.

  I promise.

  I’m already sweltering in this ridiculous Indian heat, and sweat trickles down the back of my neck. A woman sitting in a chair next to where I’m standing tries to smile at me, hoping I’m single and looking for a date, but I turn my back on her. Jesus, I never did notice all the attention I garner.

  Laura Merchant

  Ok, I feel a little better now.

  Go back to your drinks.

  Lee Park

  I’m considering ditching John.

  He’s been talking to some women since I got up.

  Laura Merchant

  If only we could chat more, but I’m at work.

  Slow day. Mary is out of the office.

  Lee Park

  I’ll let you get back to filing your nails or whatever it is you do at work when there’s nothing to do ;)

  Laura Merchant

  How about updating a thousand field spreadsheet and booking Mary into three conferences next year?

  Sexist much, Lee?

  Lee Park

  I was kidding!

  Laura Merchant

  I know. I’m the boss. You’ll realize when we’re finally together.

  Lee Park

  Can’t wait.

  I’m laughing and chuckling at my phone when I look up and find John staring at me from across the bar. His eyes widen in exasperation, and he twirls his index finger by the side of his head. Sure, he thinks I’m crazy to be dating someone half a world away. Who cares? I’m getting my drink and heading back to the room. There’s nothing I want up here anyway.

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  =

  Laura

  The lasagna is almost ready by the time my iPhone buzzes. I peek into the oven and the top is bubbling away, cheese and sauce dotted with mushrooms and spinach that I lovingly put together last night in prep for my guests this evening. I’m so hungry, I could die. I left work at 5pm today and took a 5:30 spin class before coming home and putting the lasagna in the oven. I have two bottles of red wine and a loaf of Italian semolina bread from Chelsea Market. I’m all set. I even asked Justin to come over too because I think he’ll get along with Nicole. He’s free on a Friday night. Either Justin’s sick of dating or he’s found someone who’s not available tonight.

  Nicole Kapur

  What’s your apartment again? I forgot to write it down.

  Laura Merchant

  It’s 3B. I’ll buzz you in. 3rd floor.

  We’re all outgoing and nonjudgmental, laid-back and easy, so I’m not worried about this evening at all. If anything I’m worried about Lee coming to visit me. I want him to come, want to see him, am aching to touch him or hug him, but it will come with the price of my confession. I’ve been debating back and forth all day: tell him about the abortion and what I really did in Asia before he spends thousands of dollars on a plane ticket to come here and find out I have a horrible past, or tell him over FaceTime, which seems wrong and impersonal for something of this magnitude? I don’t know what to do but maybe it’ll all work out. And if I just repeat that in my head over and over, maybe it will.

  “Hi! I brought some dessert.” Nicole enters the front hallway and kicks off her shoes without me having to ask her. That’s one of my house rules. I like to leave the dirt of the city at the door. “I hope you like cannoli.”

  “Mmmm, I do. Who doesn’t?” I grasp the pastry box from her hands by the red and white twine and place it on the kitchen table.

  “My ex hated cannoli.”

  “Well, he was obviously a loser with bad taste in desserts.”

  Nicole bursts into a laugh and hangs up her rain coat in the hallway. Today, the dull, gray sky pissed down rain all day long. Cold, dreary, unapologetic rain from the morning straight through to tomorrow, according to the weather reports. I’m staying home tomorrow to pack boxes.

  “Right on both accounts.” She nods and grasps my left arm with a smile. “Hey. When did you get the bracelets? We’re twins now.”

  “Lee sent them from India.” I run my hand over them and twirl them around my arm. “I didn’t even tell him about yours. He sent me a sari too. I have no idea how to wear it.”

  “Is it silk?”

  “I think so. It certainly is pretty. I can show you later.” Opening the oven, the scent of lasagna fills the whole kitchen and both Nicole and I mmmm at the same time.

  “Make sure you box up the sari in a cool, dry place but not in plastic. I lost a few saris to bad storage in my early twenties. My grandmother lectured me for months.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do that. Okay, I’ll let this sit for ten minutes before cutting into it.” The buzzer rings again as I’m trying to wrestle the pan onto the stove. “Nicole, can you buzz in Justin, please? Just hold the ‘door’ button.”

  Clomping echoes up the stairwell. Justin takes the stairs two-at-a-time and is never late for anything because he’s the fastest walker in New York. He often says I’m the only friend who can keep up with him when he goes out.

  “What’s up, bitches? It’s so fucking nasty outside. Please tell me we’re not going anywhere else tonight.” Justin leaves his Converse at the front door, the bottoms of his black jeans are soaked, and he’s layered a short sleeve vintage shirt over an old Morrisey concert tee. He must have a drawer full of shirts like that. “Oops, sorry, New Person. I don’t know if you like to be referred to as ‘bitches.’”

  Nicole laughs, waving her hand. “I’m Nicole, and I don’t care what you call me. But, this does remind me.” Nicole reaches into her bag while Justin hangs up his coat in the hall and drops his umbrella at the front door. “I brought you a little gift.” She hands me a slim paper bag and inside is Dirty Korean: Everyday Slang from “What’s up?” to “F*%# off!”.

  “Oh my god. Thank you. Wow, I need this book.” I flip it over and read the back, laughing. “I want
to talk dirty in Korean.”

  “It’s good to know when people are insulting you in another language, too. You never know.” She shrugs her shoulders with a smile. “I once had an old man in the fish marketplace in Seoul call me a ‘cheap bitch’ and I gave him a stern talking to in Korean. He was so embarrassed. My boyfriend stood back with his arms crossed and nodded. Man, my Korean has nosedived.”

  “I’m sure it’ll all come back to you. You have a few months before you move. You said summer, right?”

  “Yeah,” she says, straightening out her shirt. “I’d like to be in Seoul for my birthday at the end of July.”

  Justin slips past Nicole and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I have a gift too.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small baggie containing three rolled joints. “This is all for you. I owe you from the last time you brought to my place.”

  “I could kiss you. This is exactly what I need tonight.”

  “Ew, don’t.” But before he can move away, I grab his face and lick his cheek. His skin is wet with rain and stubbled, tickling my tongue. “God, Laura. You’re gross.” Using his entire palm, he wipes off his cheek as Nicole doubles over in laughter. “Is that your idea of foreplay? Because it needs work.”

  “It’s how I show affection. And with Spring Fever in effect, you’re lucky I don’t pin you to the ground and hump you senseless.”

  “Thanks, doggie. Maybe next time.”

  “Nicole, will you?” I wave the bag at her and she nods.

  “Absolutely. That’s the best way to spend a Friday night. And we should smoke now before we eat, am I right?”

  “Yes!” Both Justin and I shout at the same time. I dash to my bedroom and grab the lighter from next to the scores of candles still on my dresser. This is definitely what I need tonight, to forget about the complications in my life for a bit. It’s too bad Lee is so far away (though I say this one hundred billion times per day) because I love sex while stoned. Oh well.

 

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