Page 17 of About that Fling
“You’re thinking the vibrator section would be better?”
Jenna bit her lip, then grabbed his arm again. “Come on,” she said, tugging him toward the bank of adult arcade booths at the back of the shop. “These things must be made for privacy.” She grabbed the door of the booth at the far end and yanked it open with more force than necessary.
“You’re seriously dragging me into a porn booth?” he asked, but didn’t resist as she tugged him inside and closed the door. She flipped the lock with shaking hands and turned to look at him.
The space was dark and small, and Jenna was afraid to touch the rickety folding chair leaning up against the wall. A television screen shone lifeless on one wall, and the red light overhead made the air seem smoky.
“Okay, talk,” she whispered.
He shook his head, looking around at the black-painted walls. “I’ve gotta give you credit. This is private. Weird, but private.”
“Weird doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
Someone pounded on the outside of the booth. “If you’re going to be in there together, you need to pay to play,” the clerk called. “Feed the meter, folks.”
“What?” Jenna glanced around, not sure if she was looking for hidden cameras or an escape route. Why on earth had she let Gertie talk her into coming here?
“The movies,” Adam said, reaching for her. At least it looked like he was reaching for her. Instead, he slid a dollar bill into a slot behind her right hip and pressed a button. The television screen flickered to life, and Jenna blinked as her eyes adjusted to the blare of light and sound.
“What the?—?”
“People come in here to get their rocks off,” Adam whispered. “Not to hold professional meetings. Avert your eyes if you need to.”
“Good Lord, is that porn or a circus act?”
“Must be some sort of clown fetish channel. Hang on, I’ll change it.”
Jenna tried to look away, but found she couldn’t. She wasn’t averse to pornography, but she never realized there was such variety.
“There,” Adam said, settling on a video that featured a busty young woman talking to a plumber. He drew his hand back and looked at her, and Jenna felt her breath catch in her throat. God, had she noticed before how green his eyes were?
You noticed. Damn straight you noticed.
She forced herself to swallow. “What did you need to talk about?”
“Oh, I don’t know—the weather?” He folded his arms over his chest. “The price of petroleum? European Dadaist painters of the early twentieth century? How about the fact that my ex-wife is your colleague and your employer is now my employer and we need to figure out how to deal with that in a professional way?”
Jenna fought the urge to flinch. “I honestly had no idea. I swear?—”
“I know, I believe you,” he said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “It’s not like our first meeting was a free exchange of factual information.”
“No, we were too busy exchanging other things,” she muttered, and felt the corners of her mouth start to lift in spite of her effort to keep frowning.
“I’m not complaining, but it does complicate things,” he said. “How well do you know Amelia?”
She blinked. “Amelia?”
“Mia. I guess she goes by Mia now. My ex-wife.”
“Very well.” She felt her jaw clench. “We met in a support group a couple years ago and spent a lot of time baring our souls. We’re extremely close.”
“Support group?”
Jenna swallowed, not wanting to reveal too much of her best friend’s personal information. Or her own.
“We know each other well,” she repeated. “I’ve heard plenty of stories about you. Not that I knew it was you.”
“Right.” She could see his jaw clenching and unclenching, but he didn’t say more.
