Repeat - Kylie Scott Page 0,42
your ruminating over a certain someone.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” I get busy cleaning. “I’m focusing solely on my job.”
“Are you now?”
“Did you know there’s a coffee-table book dedicated solely to genital piercings here?”
“Of course I’m aware of it,” she says. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re trying to change the subject, either. But there’s nothing wrong with a Prince Albert proudly displayed. As long as it’s not in public, of course.”
“Huh.”
She smirks. “You’re very judgmental for one so young.”
“I’m not judgmental. Just a little surprised.”
“Why shouldn’t I stock books on sex and the human body? Both are beautiful natural things worth celebrating.”
Not knowing what to say, I dust my heart out.
“Good Lord, are you embarrassed by intimacy and the naked form?” She clucks her tongue. “Clementine, for shame.”
“What do you want from me?” Leif’s words the other night may have been said in jest, but the truth was a serious reality lay behind them. “Care of the assault, I may have well have regrown my hymen. I have nil practical experience and I’ve never even seen someone in the flesh totally naked apart from myself. It is on my to-do list, though.”
“You know, I never thought of it that way.”
“It’s the truth. While I know that I’ve definitely done it, I don’t actually remember doing it, so . . .”
“Maybe you should ask Ed to help you with that.” There’s an evil sparkle in her eye. “See, you’re frowning. I say his name and you frown, every time.”
“Pretty sure he’d be too busy schtupping the brunette from the restaurant to be worrying about my sexual needs regardless of where I’m sleeping.”
“Hmm.”
“And I look after myself. I masturbate.”
A young guy who just walked in the door stops and blinks.
“Welcome to Braun Books,” I say with a smile. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”
He blinks again, still staring.
“To do with books.”
With a jerky nod, he heads back to the secondhand section. I’m rocking this work and socializing thing. Just ask me.
“Well, I should hope you’re able to see to your own needs,” says Iris, picking up the conversation. “Did you watch porn to learn how?”
“Masturbation doesn’t really fall under episodic memory. Its more things like personal facts and details of events that were wiped out. Muscle memory works just fine.”
“Ah. Well, if you need a little help or are just after some variety, there’s a wonderful selection of vibrators and other toys at Delilah’s just a short walk from here.”
“Sounds interesting. I might check it out sometime. Thanks.”
“Personally, I’ve found a Lelo Lily to be a wonderful investment,” she continues. “But you have to take the time to find a personal massager that works for you.”
The guy in the secondhand section obviously has issues with sex or at least discussions regarding same, because he all but flees the premises. Whatever. It’s around about five o’clock. Time for the after-work crowd to hopefully be lured in for some literature. The woman who struts in, however, is very familiar and probably not a customer. And there’s no other word for how she moves. I couldn’t pull off such confidence if I tried.
“We need to talk,” she announces.
“Hi, Tessa.”
Iris just looks between me and the beautiful black woman with intricate tattoos swirling up her arms. Tessa wears ripped jeans and studded boots. A chunky knit top that falls off one shoulder. Runway models wished they had it so good. In my ballet flats, jeans, and Where the Wild Things Are tee (got it from the shop), I do not compare. Oh well. At least I made some effort this morning, or I’d be feeling even further out of my league. And while I’ve seen an instance in a movie where that tone of voice was being used affectionately and jokingly between people, this is not one of those times. Not even a little. But Iris is beaming so I guess she figures it is. I don’t even think Tessa noticed her standing there at first.
“Iris, this is Tessa, a friend of Ed’s,” I say. “Tessa, my boss, Iris.”
Tessa nods. “Ma’am.”
“Hello!” Iris smiles before turning back to me. “Clementine, why don’t you grab your bag and go have a drink with your friend? Try out that new little wine bar along the way!”
“Oh, we are not friends,” says Tessa.
“We’re really not,” I agree. “Are you sure you don’t want a hand closing up?”
“No, no. Antonio will be here soon to help me. You go.” Iris flaps her hands at