The Muse (11 page)

“You’ve already satisfied so many.” She tore the rest of the bagel in half and offered a piece to Erato, who took it only when Kate gave her a pleading look. “Listen, I’m not going to treat you like my slave or anything. I appreciate the help, believe me, but—”

“My duties are to cook for you, clean for you, do the shopping, assist you with research whenever possible, talk through any story problems you want to discuss, reward you when you achieve milestones, incentivize your word-count goals to enable you to more quickly reach them, and keep you both highly aroused and sexually satisfied in ways that will take your creativity to places you’ve never even imagined.”

It occurred to Kate that Erato was basically an author’s ultimate erotic fantasy, apparently in human form. Once again, she wondered how she’d been chosen to be the recipient of such devoted servitude. “I know you said that my words are the only compensation you need, and that you think my stories are lovely, but come on…” She gave Erato a cautious smile. “Why me? What are you really getting out of this?”

Erato swallowed the bite she’d taken and set down the rest of her bagel with a dramatic sigh. “Would you rather I leave?”

“No!” Kate set aside the tray, her appetite gone at the thought of losing her muse before they’d even begun. “Of course not. I’m sorry.” She hesitated, then searched Erato’s eyes, afraid she’d hurt her. “I’m just…still confused.”

“But that’s all right to be confused sometimes.” Erato took hold of her hand and laced their fingers together. “Isn’t it?”

Kate wasn’t sure she agreed. She hated not having a solid understanding of a situation. She supposed that was part of what vexed her about her current work-in-progress. So far, not only had the story been difficult to pin down, but even the characters and their motivations seemed nebulous. That wasn’t normally the case, and it was driving her crazy. “I’m not comfortable with uncertainty.”

“You seemed reasonably comfortable last night despite the uncertainty of how your first threesome would unfold.” Erato raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should give yourself a little more credit when it comes to thinking on your feet?”

Silently, Kate mused that Olive’s sweet and passionate nature—and not her own previously hidden talents for improvisation and going with the flow—had allowed her to be so comfortable during the previous evening’s adventure. That, and her overwhelming desire to give Olive pleasure like she’d never experienced before. Her chest ached briefly as she tried to imagine what Olive had been thinking when she left the apartment. Had she been relieved to avoid an awkward morning-after? Maybe the tangible connection Kate thought she’d felt had been entirely one-sided, and Olive’s hasty exit had simply saved her the embarrassment of believing that their one-night-stand threesome could become more. “Perhaps.”

“Your new story is an erotic romance, yes?” Erato’s earnest question pulled her away from her introspective thoughts. “Who are your characters?”

“Rose and Molly,” Kate replied without thinking. She paused, uncertain she wanted to withstand the frustration of trying to discuss her unformulated ideas with a third party. Usually she wouldn’t dare vocalize anything about a story at this stage of the writing process. She didn’t crave outside interference in her creativity until editing had begun, but in this case—considering Erato’s supposed credentials—she figured it was worth at least a brief conversation. “At the beginning of the story, Rose rescues Molly from an awkward blind date after noticing how miserable she looks. Rose is just about to leave the restaurant after a dinner with her ex, who used the occasion to break the news that he’s going to remarry and move with his new wife to Alaska, along with the dog he and Rose had adopted as a puppy. So anyway, Rose is pissed off and upset and lonely, and that’s when she notices Molly.”

“I like this so far.” Propping her chin on her hand, Erato seemed genuinely enraptured by her mediocre synopsis. “Go on.”

Sitting up straighter, Kate said, “Well, Molly is out with a woman she met through a dating website, and it’s a disaster. The woman has showed up to dinner tipsy and just keeps ordering more wine. As Rose passes her table on the way out, she notices Molly trying rather unsuccessfully to extricate herself from the situation, and their eyes meet. Seeing Molly’s desperation, Rose takes her by the hand, tosses a few bills on the table, and informs the drunken date that Molly is needed elsewhere. Then she walks her out of the restaurant hand in hand. Once they’re out on the street, Molly recovers from her surprise and thanks Rose for the save. She alludes to her poor track record when it comes to meeting women, and Rose sympathizes by alluding to her own unsuccessful history with relationships. They agree that dating sucks and that if they weren’t driven by the need for companionship and physical release, they wouldn’t even bother.”

“I think I see where this is going.”

Kate hoped Erato meant that—because she wasn’t sure she did. “Well, naturally they end up making out after Rose walks Molly to her car. Then they end up
in
Molly’s car, which leads to about eight thousand words of fucking that takes them from that evening through the weekend. Now I’m at a crucial moment in the story—the
what next
?—and I haven’t even figured out what legitimate story problems I can use to keep these two having sex without succumbing to love until the end of the story.”

“Well, they’re both gun-shy after being unlucky with past partners.” Erato stroked a thumb across her knuckle, the rhythmic caress helping Kate stay calm despite the familiar frustration of not being able to see how the rest of Rose and Molly’s story should unfold. “That’s one problem.”

“But that’s way too flimsy to be the
only
problem. If they’re made for each other—and romance readers demand that they are—fear can only keep them apart for so long. I need something else. And I don’t know
what.
”

“Personality conflict?”

Kate wrinkled her nose. “No. I want something they can reasonably overcome and still live happily ever after. A timing issue, maybe, or a question of propriety…Some circumstance that might realistically keep them apart but that they can choose to have the courage to confront.”

Erato settled into the kind of thousand-yard stare that Kate knew she often wore when she was outlining a story in her head. “You mentioned that Rose has an ex-husband. Maybe she’s not sure whether she could have a meaningful romantic relationship with another woman? Or Molly could be nervous about Rose’s bisexuality. Perhaps she’s not convinced that Rose truly wants to get serious with a woman.”

“Ugh,” Kate said, then shrugged in apology. “Sorry, I’m just not interested in writing about someone coming to terms with her sexuality again right now—or making Molly into a character who is judgmental about bisexuality. I guess I’m hoping for more of a real-world, through-no-fault-of-their-own obstacle.”

“Well, what do they do professionally?”

Abashed, Kate admitted, “Actually, I’m not sure.” She rushed to explain. “Normally I’d have a much better grasp of all these details by this point, but for some reason, with this story…” Snorting, she said, “They haven’t done a whole lot of talking yet. I thought maybe Molly would work in the medical field, but I just don’t know…” She sighed deeply. “Yeah, I don’t know.”

“What if Rose is Molly’s new boss at work? Or maybe it turns out that Molly recently started working at the assisted-living home where Rose’s aging mother stays and has a special knack with her. Perhaps the mother is suffering from the early stages of dementia, or some situation where Molly’s presence in her life has become a tremendous comfort. Rose is afraid to pursue a relationship when the consequences of it failing might actually damage her mother’s health and well-being.”

“Except they just can’t stop fucking,” Kate murmured, almost to herself. “Especially as they get to know each other better, and Molly helps Rose become closer with her mother, and Rose sees how kind and compassionate Molly is…” She tried to judge how the proposed storyline would fit with the mood of the story so far. “That’s a bit of a heavy plot for an erotic romance.”

“Maybe.” Erato shrugged. “Maybe not. Some readers want their erotica wrapped in fluff, but others enjoy a little real-world angst mixed in to the proceedings. Personally, I think it makes the moments of physical release the characters share have even more impact.”

She
did
enjoy tackling weightier stories—and she agreed, dramatic tension only heightened the stakes of the erotic scenes. Kate nodded slowly, trying to decide how readers would perceive Rose’s reluctance. Would she be seen as stubborn or afraid, merely making excuses to avoid happiness? Or would her gesture for her mother seem genuinely selfless? Unless…Kate clapped her hands as an alternative thought occurred. “Maybe it’s not Rose who tries to put the brakes on a potential relationship. Maybe it’s
Molly
who doesn’t want anything to complicate this very special relationship she has with Rose’s mother.”

“Oh, that’s
good
!” Erato kissed her on the jaw. “That’s
perfect
. Molly gets to be good and noble by insisting they not pursue a relationship, and meanwhile, Rose could wind up mending a complicated relationship with her mother simply because her interest in Molly keeps her coming to the home for more visits than they’ve had in years. Eventually Rose can make the case to Molly that her presence in their lives has already led to so much good for both her and her mother that she refuses to accept the idea that they can’t be together. After Rose’s mother gives them her blessing—and indeed, makes Molly promise she will be there to take care of Rose once she’s gone—Molly can surrender to the love she’s felt from nearly that first moment Rose rescued her from that bad blind date.”

“The end,” Kate murmured. She sat in silence for a few minutes after Erato stopped speaking, stunned that for the first time since she’d conceived of these characters, they now had a story—and a pretty decent one, at that. She’d given her publisher very few details about how the novel would play out, so she had the freedom to take it in this direction, if she wanted. Amazingly, she thought she might. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s good!” Erato brought their joined hands to her mouth and kissed Kate’s fingers. “In fact, it could even be great. The premise will give you plenty of opportunity to plumb deep emotion, which you do well. Even though it’s ultimately a story driven by all the great sex the characters are having—which leads them to the realization that they should be together, of course—”

“Of course.”

“If you take it in this direction, you’re offering readers the best of all worlds—hot sex within a story that has just enough realism to let them become genuinely emotionally invested. Plus, it will give you the opportunity to write more than just fucking, which I know you appreciate.”

Kate smiled. Not everyone realized that about her. “I do, as a matter of fact.”

“So what do you think?” Erato pulled her into a loose hug, reigniting the desire that had receded into the background during their talk. “Are you excited to write today?”

Now that she had a direction, she
was
feeling better about the prospect. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Just a little bit?”

Kate leaned forward until their foreheads touched. It had to be an illusion, but she could swear her muscles no longer ached. She felt ready for round three—or thirty, honestly, she’d lost count—with Erato and her magical fingers and tongue. “Do we have time for a quickie first?”

To her surprise, Erato shook her head sadly. “Not until you write at least two thousand words. Two thousands words, and you can have me any way you want me.”

Two thousand words?
That was one-fifth of her total word count so far! Erato expected her to produce that in a single
day
?

She wasn’t sure if Erato could read her mind or if her face conveyed her total dismay, but before she could say a word, Erato raised a placating hand. “First of all, two thousand words is hardly unprecedented. You’ve written twice that in an afternoon, many times.”

“Not for years,” Kate grumbled.

“So? Clearly you’re capable of it. You’ve done it before, and now that you know where this story is going, you can do it again.”

Kate opened her mouth, ready with a fast comeback, then hesitated. Attitude was everything. She knew that. This book would never get written if she didn’t force away the pessimism that had been holding her back for far too long. “Two thousand words.” It would give her body time to recover, she supposed. And if Erato kept the beverages flowing, a chance to hydrate. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.” Erato cuddled her closer. “As soon as you hit two thousand words, call for me. Deal?”

Clearly this was what Erato had meant when she’d referred to incentivizing word-count goals. It was a brilliant strategy, Kate had to admit. Already she knew she wouldn’t be wasting her time with kitten videos and social media today. Not when the reward for her hard work was more naked time with a veritable sexual goddess. Kate exhaled, then kissed Erato’s forehead before forcing herself out of bed to start her writing day. “Deal.”

Kate hit two thousand words shortly after four thirty in the afternoon. Two thousand one hundred and seventy, to be exact, at the precise moment she finally stopped to check her count. But rather than call on Erato to collect her reward, she decided to keep going—just a while longer, as long as the words were still flowing. It had been such a long time since they had, she was fearful of breaking the spell, even for an orgasm.

True to her word, Erato crept quietly into her office every so often, refilling her drink, bringing snacks, clearing away plates—all in absolute silence, so as not to disturb Kate’s progress. Often Kate didn’t even realize that Erato had come and gone until she noticed that her glass was full or a new piece of fruit or veggie sandwich had appeared next to her. Without any reason to get up except to take bathroom and stretching breaks, Kate found it much easier to focus on the work. For the first time in far too long, she was able to completely immerse herself in the story of Rose and Molly.