The Revelation (20 page)

“Next week? Nope. If I get my way, you’ll be here in
L.A. next week, acting like my paid whore.” He snickers.

Holy hell. Josh is positively on fire right now.
This is as relaxed and easygoing as he’s ever been with me.

“Speaking of which,” Josh continues, “I’ve been
thinking about how to pull off all your mini-pornos, and I think
I’m gonna hit ’em out of the park.”

I giggle. On our last night in Vegas, after coming
back from our night-on-the-town with Henn and Hannah, and after
having some freaking awesome sex, Josh and I lay in bed together
and I told him chapter and verse about each and every one of the
mini-pornos that regularly play inside my head. The man was so
enthusiastic he even pulled out his laptop and started taking
notes.

“Some of that shit’s gonna be like putting on a
fucking Broadway show,” Josh continues, chuckling, “but I’m up for
the challenge.”

I cup my hand over my mouth to keep my voice from
traveling to my driver.

“You don’t have to enact
every
fantasy I told
you about—” I begin, but Josh cuts me off.

“Oh, I’m doin’ em all, PG—and I’m doing ’em
right
. Fuck yeah, I am. I’ve got a few things I gotta pound
out at work for the next week or so,” Josh continues, “but then I’m
all yours, baby. So what’s your calendar look like for a visit some
time next week?”

“Um, I dunno,” I say, heat rising in my cheeks. This
conversation is overwhelming me in the best possible way. “I’ll
need to look at what’s waiting for me on the work calendar and let
you know.”

“Cool. Don’t keep me hanging though, or I’m gonna go
all Jonas Faraday on your ass.” He laughs to himself. “Oh my
fucking God. I can’t wait to see you and get started on our little
fantasy-fulfillment exchange
.
It’s gonna be
epic
.” He
lowers his voice. “Kat, I can’t stop thinking about—” He abruptly
stops. There’s a ridiculously long pause. “It.”

It
? There’s a long pause. That felt like a
weird choice of words.

“I can’t stop thinking about...
it,
either,”
I say slowly, but I’m not completely sure what we’re talking about.
Are we saying we can’t stop thinking about our upcoming
fantasy-fulfillment exchange? Is that the “it”?

“Oh, they’re boarding my flight,” Josh says quickly.
“Be sure to send me a note telling me when you can come to L.A.
I’ve still got you on the clock for my ‘PR campaign,’ so if it’ll
make it easier for you to get away from work, I’d be happy to throw
some more money onto the ‘campaign’ and—”

“Oh, gosh, no, don’t pay anything more to my firm,
Josh. Once I get my finder’s fee money, I’ll probably be quitting,
anyway, to start my own thing.”

“Awesome
,
Kat. Wow. Just think—we’ll both be
birthin’ babies at the exact same time. My new company with Jonas
and Party Girl PR will grow up together.”

“Ha! Well, our babies might be
born
at the
same time, but they’re definitely not gonna
grow up
together. Your baby’s gonna be in a slightly different tax bracket
than mine. Yours will be attending private pre-school and learning
to play cello and speak Mandarin while Party Girl PR will be eating
paste in the corner at the McDonald’s Play Land.”

Josh hoots with laughter. “God, you’re funny. But,
no, Kat, seriously—the size of your business doesn’t matter—you’ll
still be an
entrepreneur
. And in my book, that makes you a
fucking
beast
.” He makes an exaggerated roar like a
T-Rex.

I laugh. “Wow.”

“Try it.”

I mimic his roar.

“There you go. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Um... Well, actually, I think my roar is a bit
premature. I’ve got a crap-ton to figure out before I decide if I’m
actually gonna do it or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you do it?”

“Because I don’t know what the heck I’m doing. I
know PR, but I don’t know anything about running a business. I’m
only twenty-four, for crying out loud. I’m a wee little baybay,
Joshua. Waaah.”

He scoffs. “I started the L.A. office of Faraday
& Sons at twenty-four and I didn’t know a goddamned thing. But
I kicked fucking ass and took names, anyway—like the wise and
powerful man I am. I learned on the job and so will you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have a brother and uncle working
with me in case I don’t know something—it’s just me, and I don’t
know the first thing about a million things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, like whether my company should be an LLC or
S-Corp or which billing software I should use. Plus, I’ve got to
figure out a logo and website design and—oh
crap
—what if I
wanna hire an actual
employee
? I don’t have the first idea
how to set up payroll or—”

“Whoa, slow down, High-Speed,” Josh soothes. “You’re
stressing me the fuck out.” He chuckles. “I’ll help you with all
that stuff. Piece of chocolate cake, little baybay.”

“Josh, no, you can’t help me with that stuff—I have
to learn it, that’s the whole point of starting my own thing.”

“No, doing everything by yourself is most definitely
not
the whole point, you fool.” He makes yet another
scoffing noise. “The point of owning your own business is being
your own boss and getting to do the thing that makes you a fucking
beast—which in your case is being a PR phenom—it’s definitely not
setting up billing software and payroll. And, realistically, you’ll
probably be a one-woman operation for a while, so getting you up
and running will be easy-peasy. Don’t stress it, babe. I got
you.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t know how—”

“Ssh. I tell you what I’m gonna do, baby,” Josh says
smoothly. “I’ll line up whatever you’re gonna need to get your
business off the ground—an accountant, bookkeeper, IT guy, website
designer, whatever. I’ve got all those folks sitting on my contacts
list already, so just a couple of quick phone calls and,
boom
, you’ll be all set.”

I’m positively swooning right now. “You’d do that
for me?”

“Of course, I would. I’d do anything for you,
Kat.”

Holy shitballs. Josh tossed out that last sentence
like he was simply stating the obvious, but I’m floored. “I really
didn’t mean to imply I was expecting you to—”

“Oh, I know. I never thought that. I just wanna
help.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“You know you don’t have to—”

“
Dude
. You’re pissing me off. Just say ‘thank
you.’”

I smile into the phone. “
Thank you.
Very
much.”

“My pleasure.”

I feel light-headed. “So does that mean you’re gonna
be, like, an investor?”

“No,” he says quickly. “I don’t want an ownership
stake—I’m not making a long-term commitment here. I’m just offering
to help you get your baby off the ground, that’s all—no strings
attached.”

There’s an awkward pause. He said all that a lot
more emphatically than was necessary, I do believe.

“Okay,” I say slowly, my heart beating wildly. Did
he just tell me in code he doesn’t want a long-term relationship
with me?

There’s a long pause.

“But, I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he stammers. “I’m
super excited for you and I wanna help you out.”

I pause, trying to decide what we’re really talking
about here. I feel like he just kissed me and slapped me. “Maybe
I’d better figure everything out on my own, after all,” I say
tentatively. “But thanks for your offer, anyway.”

He makes a sound of frustration. “What the fuck just
happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were all happy and grateful and excited and
then you suddenly became a chick. What suddenly crawled up your
ass?”

I’m shocked. “
What
crawled up my
ass
?”

“Oh, Jesus. Vagina!” he shouts. “Sometimes I forget
you’re not just a hot-lookin’ dude.”

“What the hell...?” I say, bristling. “
What
crawled up my ass
?”

“Bad choice of words. Sorry. It’s what I’d say to a
dude. Forget I said it. Listen, Kat. Here’s the deal. I’m gonna
help you because you’re my Party Girl with a Hyphen—not because I
want a stake in your company, that’s all I’m saying. Okay? Don’t
get all freaked out and start overanalyzing everything and start
looking for secret codes.”

Whoa. It’s like he can read my damned mind.

“I’m being above-board with you: I wanna help you.
That’s how I feel right now. How will I feel a few months from now?
I have no idea. All I know is that right now, I wanna help you. And
I wanna see you. And be with you and touch you and fuck you and
lick you and fucking bite you, and I can’t stop thinking about you,
no matter what the fuck I do—” He abruptly stops talking.

Suddenly, there’s complete silence on the line.

Wow, that was quite the rambling speech from Mr.
Joshua William Faraday.

I pause a really long time, collecting myself, my
hand on my heart.

He doesn’t say another word.

“Okay,” I finally say. “Well, then, thank you for
your
short-term
and completely
uncommitted
help. I
appreciate and accept it.”

There’s another really long beat.

Josh swallows hard on his end of the line and clears
his throat. “Great. You’re welcome. So what do you think about
calling the company ‘Party Girl with a Hyphen PR’?” he asks,
clearly changing the topic of conversation. “Is that too long?” he
asks.

“Is what too long?”

“The name ‘Party Girl with a Hyphen PR.’”

“Oh. Yeah, definitely,” I manage to reply. “And also
too weird.” I clear my throat. “Actually, I was thinking of calling
my company ‘PG PR’? Is that too boring? I’m thinking ‘Party Girl
PR’ kinda sounds like an event planner.”

“Yeah, you’re totally right. Good call, PG. That’s
why they pay you the big bucks. ‘PG PR.’ I like it. Oh fuck,
they’re boarding my flight.”

“Okay. Thanks for everything, Josh.”

“My pleasure.”

My pulse is pounding in my ears. “Fly safely.”

“That’s always the plan, babe. Oh, hey, PG. One more
thing. Real quick. I sent you a little present. It should be
waiting for you when you get home.”

“A
present
? Oh my God, Josh, no. I still
haven’t thanked you enough for everything you’ve already done for
me.”

“It’s just a small gift. You’ll see.”

“But, no, Josh, you’ve already done too much.”

“Hey, you’ve done a lot for me, too. By my count,
we’re pretty even.”

“If you’re talking about all the amazing sex we’ve
had, we’re not close to even—that was all for
my
benefit, I
assure you.”

“Dude. I’m not paying you for sex—though sex with
you is so damned good, I gladly would—especially since I know you
have a raging call-girl fantasy and all.” He snickers. “But no, you
big dummy, I’m talking about evening the score for everything you
did in Las Vegas. We all owe you big, Oksana, especially me.”

“Especially
you
? How’s that?”

“Because if something were to happen to Sarah, then
Jonas would fall apart—which means my life would suck. So I need to
guard Sarah like the crown jewels. Plus, on a personal note, I’d
strongly prefer my application never get into the wrong hands, so
I’m pretty relieved about the way things worked out.”

Oh, I never thought about that.

He takes a deep breath. “
So,
like I said, I’d
say we’re pretty much even—in fact, I might very well still owe
you—oh shit. Gotta run, PG. Hey, there’ll be wifi on my flight, so
be sure to email me when you get my gift.”

“Okay, I will. Thank you again. Fly safely.”

He sounds like he’s running. “Oh, and don’t forget
to tell me when you can make it to L.A. so I can book your
flight—whoa, whoa, hang on!” He’s obviously shouting to someone on
his end of the line. “Yeah, I’m on this flight. Thanks.” He
addresses me again. “Okay, PG? Email me.”

“You better go, Josh—don’t miss your flight.”

“Yeah, I’m walking on board now. Talk to you later,
Party Girl with a Hyphen. See you soon.”

My stomach bursts with butterflies and my heart
squeezes. “Bye-bye, Playboy with a Heart of Gold. Can’t wait.”

He sighs cartoonishly, like he’s Lucy watching
Schroeder playing piano. “Bye, Kat.”

I can feel his wide smile through the phone line. I
hope he can feel mine in return.

“Bye, Josh.”

I hang up my phone, my mouth hanging open, my eyes
as wide as freakin’ saucers. For a long moment, I look out the
window of the cab in a daze, staring at the rain pounding
insistently on the glass. Holy crappola, as Sarah always says, that
entire conversation shocked the living hell out of me. Josh acted
like... I can’t even finish the thought without possibly making my
heart explode.

And
I
acted the exact same way toward
him.

We
both
acted like...

Oh my God, both of us did, right? I wasn’t imagining
it, was I?

I clutch my chest. Holy My Heart’s Gonna Burst Out
of my Chest, Batman. I’m having trouble breathing. I take a deep,
steadying breath. That conversation threw me for a loop. It was
just so effing...
affectionate
. And
comfortable
. And
sweet
. (Well, except when he asked what crawled up my
ass—that wasn’t so sweet.) There was none of our usual
cat-and-mouse thing going on—it felt like the cat had already
caught its coveted mouse, long ago, and was now pinning it down and
licking it from nose to tail.

I stash my phone in my purse—the Gucci bag Josh
bought me during our Oksana-inspired shopping spree—and stare at
the rain out the taxicab window. Holy hell, Josh’s generosity knows
no bounds. He’s already done so much for me, and now he’s gonna
help me get my little company off the ground, too? I thought I’d be
at least forty before I even attempted to make that particular
dream come true.