Kayismy agent, mentorand good friend.He knowshow Ido not like toattend thebook signingbut itshows thatgood-he stressedthe wordsthe authortookevery opportunity toexposehimself tothe publicbuyhim.The last part ofthat statementis to hithomesooner than hehad beentaken into considerationandin a way thatnoneof us getscared ordreaming.
“Don’targue, you knowthat Ialways keepyour interests.“
“More likelargecommissionsI let yousteal from me,”Iwhine.It makes mehitin the buttnakedwhile I wasrushingto go to the bathroom.
Kayjoined mein the bathroom toreinforcethe message thatany and allpublicityhelpsa “struggling” writer.I raisedhim throughtinjukuMistyglassbooths andtipmy assat him.
“Prepareyourself fora surpriseDinah…” he waswaiting forme to stophittingmytowelsaround asIdriedmy back.I saidnothing butraised hiseyebrows,a signalhe knowsit means‘don’tpush myboyfriend‘.Kaylaughsbutstepped outof the reach of bath towels.“Then Iwon’t tell you.”He wasreadyto fleejust in case.
“Stop thesillymare, Igotan appointmentwithin half an hourand you’llruinmyclothes“,Kayscreamthenscreamas Itickledher.I swearthere aremore than a littlelesbianin her.
I am not surprised,I was shocked.Kay, the agentusuallyanonymousI propose tocomewith me tothe signing!Why?There’sdefinitely somethinghe didn’ttell me.
The next dayI woke up early, nervous, agitated, anxious,wondering if I cancancel yoursignings.
Hot waterallows meto enjoy andreducesa lot ofmy fears.I’mstrokingmy body.Out of thecubicleand dryI askedand appreciatedmy body.I was luckyand Iknow that.Thirty-fiveyears old and stillmanagetostay slim.Not withoutan effortand sacrifice– nochocolatefor examplelike mechocoholic.A littlewine, with only theplayers andthe launchandother necessaryfunctions.A lot ofphysical activity–not of thekind thatI likethough–sex.
Mr.Dunnand I amthe former.Somethree years now.Oh, it’speaceful,indeed, whenour pathsevercrossfor more thanfifteen minuteswe did it…I meansex.Westilllove each otherbutwe seeso little ofone another, our worldgrow somuchthat it’ssimilar tobeing single.one persondidas a singledid andwe were bothforced tosexwith others.It’s beenagessinceI rolledinthe proverbialstrawand really, I hatethe messybusinessof ‘self-help‘.Call it whatyou wantit’s stillmasturbation.
Iwasted.ThereI’vesaid it!As I try todecide what isappropriate towearI stoodnear thedoormirrorcupboardwondering whata mancan see thatwill transformhim frommynaked body.Kay saysthatmyfame–or ifshe feltevil–that I havebecome ‘icegirls‘.She knewthat she had torun ifhedared tosay itthough.
What towear?It’scold soI willdefinitelywear a raincoat;largefauxfurcollar, collarwidthand length of thecrossingthat reachedbelow the knee.
I pulledfromthe closet andimpervious tomynuditya pair ofsensible,thickpantsand a cashmeresweater.AlreadyI can see thegrimaceKayinthe ensemble– heinsisted that I sell it‘,my body–you got itsweetiesoselling it,using it,hebringin sales.Isigh;allI want todo is writefor the good.
Okay,then what?Aslinky,figure–huggingdresses?I drewonein andI imagine thearroganceinwowingpeopleuntilI started withmy ownandraise the temperaturemust beoff therobequickly.Kaywillloveit, buthe could go… wellnevermind.Asensibleskirtthe winterwith a lengthbelow the kneeandloosesilkshirtthat showstoo muchcleavage–they alsoI trieduntil I foundthe spectre of‘self-help‘nudgingon the edge ofmy mind.
Finallywhat Ichoose isloose, NavyBlueskirtthat does notreachmy knees;Ihave to be carefulbecauseI usuallywearjeans andhadalmost lostthe built-in‘knee–clenching‘ofa womanwhen wearingdresses andskirts.My topskirt withknittedtopstightblueice.I can notmemaka