Eye Candy

Chapter 4: Orgasmless


Amie

Mimi offers another round of hugs once we’ve set the time for dinner. Gwendolyn isn’t pleased that they’re going to be late for their appointment and Mimi reminds her that she owns the damn hotel, they can be late if they want.

As soon as we’re alone, I wilt like a flower under a heat lamp.

“I wonder if they could inject her with a new personality the next time she goes in for a Botox touch-up,” Ruby mutters once they’re out of earshot.

I sip my Perrier and sigh. I’ve wondered the same thing on many occasions. “You know, I keep thinking she’s going to warm up to me eventually, but it never seems to happen.”

“I don’t think she can warm up to anyone. How she managed to procreate is truly a mystery.” Ruby picks up the appetizer assortment menu the server has left for us.

We’re trying a little of everything so we can narrow the menu down to something reasonable. Well, Ruby will try everything. I’m on a very strict eating regime because the wedding is coming.

“I don’t want to think about what procreating looks like with her.”

“I imagine it isn’t much different than what she looks like most of the time, except she’d be naked.” Ruby takes a sip of her mimosa. It looks delicious.

“Or maybe not. Maybe she just wears crotchless panties so Fredrick can get up in there without inconveniencing her,” I whisper.

Ruby snort-giggles and smiles. “Oh my God. Can you even imagine?” She grows serious again. “I really don’t get it, though. Everyone loves you.”

Everyone except for Armstrong’s mother, anyway. “Armstrong thinks she feels threatened because I’m taking him away from her, but I think she just doesn’t like me. It seems like the harder I try, the worse she gets.”

“So you’ve talked to him about it then?”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t seem to think it’s a big deal, but we spend so much time with his family. I just want her to like me.”

Since Armstrong has a very close relationship with his mother, I have an unreasonable level of perfection to live up to in her eyes. It’s difficult to see Bancroft’s mother with Ruby. It’s clear she genuinely likes Ruby, and that Ruby likes her as well. In fact, his family acts as though the sun rises and sets for Ruby. I don’t need Gwendolyn to worship me, I just want to have the kind of relationship with my mother-in-law that doesn’t involve excessive anxiety. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to make that happen.

Ruby pats my hand and smiles. “It’s impossible not to like you, Amie. Maybe planning this party together will help.”

“Maybe.” I have my doubts.

“How’s the wedding planning going, anyway?” Ruby asks. “You must be excited now that it’s only a few months away.”

I should be excited. Unfortunately, wedding plans fill me with dread these days. It’s not that I have cold feet. Not more than is normal, anyway. It’s that I’ve given up far more control over the wedding plans than I ever intended just to make things easier with Gwendolyn, and clearly it hasn’t improved our relationship at all.

I decide to focus on the positive. “The dresses are supposed to arrive in a couple of weeks. If we’re lucky we’ll have a fitting before the Halloween soirée.”

Although if that happens, I’m sure to be spending even more time with Armstrong’s mother. She has an opinion on everything and since the reception is being held at one of the Millses’ hotels she’s been heavily involved in all aspects of the planning, which Armstrong seems to think is totally reasonable. Since my family lives out of state, my own mother hasn’t been very involved.

“And you must be super excited for the honeymoon, right?” Ruby lowers her voice to a whisper so only I can hear her. “You’ll finally be deflowered after all these years.”

I snort indelicately. Ruby is very well aware that there is no flower to pluck where I’m concerned. I dated a lot in high school. And typically not the kind of boys I could or should bring home to meet my parents. I figured if I wasn’t supposed to have sex it wouldn’t feel so good. Speaking of, I could really use some soon.

“I hope once we’re married things will pick back up in the in bedroom.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby stops sipping her mimosa, which is already half gone.

I wave my hand around in the air as if my comment doesn’t matter. “The stress of the wedding is making things . . . difficult.”

Ruby frowns and gives me her full attention. “Does that mean you’re not getting much action?”

I fiddle with my napkin so I don’t have to look at her. Ruby and I have always been pretty open with each other about our sex lives. I’ve probably shared much more with her than she needs to know, but then, we’ve been friends for more than a decade.

She was the first person I told when I actually was deflowered back in my junior year of high school. Well, Ruby and I went to prep school. The boy I gave my virginity to was the son of my father’s mechanic. Brent Harper was a serious bad boy and oh-so-good with his fingers. That translated very well fully naked. Unfortunately, that “bad boy” reputation was well earned. Last I heard he was in prison for embezzlement with no chance of parole. Ironically, he’s not the only boyfriend I’ve had with a mug shot. The bad ones were always hard to resist.

“Hello! Amalie?” Ruby waves her hand in front of my face.

“What?”

“Are you low on action?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m being too demanding. I mean, I know I have a healthy drive, probably a little too healthy sometimes. It’s why I’m at the gym so much these days, but running and yoga really aren’t a replacement for sex and orgasms.” I realize I’m playing with my hair and fold my hands in my lap to cease the anxious behavior.

Ruby glances around the restaurant, maybe to make sure we have privacy. “When was the last time you had sex?”

“Umm . . .” I look up at the ceiling as I ponder the answer to this question. Beyond the blowjob I gave to Armstrong in the car on Monday, it’s been a while. “Maybe a week ago?”

Ruby raises a brow. “Maybe?”

I consult the calendar in my phone, just to be certain of the accuracy. “Oh. Wow.”

“Oh wow, what?”

The last day marked with an “O” was nearly two weeks ago. “It’s been thirteen days.”

“Since you’ve had sex?” Ruby asks, maybe just a bit too loud. Thankfully we’re in a private corner of the restaurant. “Didn’t you stay at his place on the weekend?”

“I did, but he’d had a busy week and fell asleep before I could jump him, and no. I was right about the sex being a week ago.”

“Then what’s been thirteen days?” Ruby’s eyes go even wider and she grips the edge of the table. “Don’t tell me your period is late.”

I shake my head. “That’s next week. It’s been thirteen days since I’ve had an orgasm.”

“Oh.” Ruby sags with relief. And then her mouth drops open. “Thirteen days?”