Page 29 of Sex Positive

“Me, of course.”

Charlie jumps, though of course she knew they weren’t alone. She flushes at the appearance of the immediately recognizable and astoundingly attractive man sauntering into the room.

Wearing a simple black T-shirt and jeans, his thick, dark hair perfectly tousled, Theo Fox comes to stand in front of her. His pouty lips are curved in the same smirk she recognizes from the Hugo Boss ad plastered across social media in which he stares out at the camera with smoldering eyes while modeling an impeccably tailored gray suit. In person, he’s shorter than she expected but just as conventionally attractive, his light brown skin clear and almost glowing.

“And you must beCharlotte.”

Charlie blinks before snapping to attention. Holding out a hand, she says, “It’s Charlie.”

Theo slides his gaze to her hand before his dark eyes find hers again. One shapely eyebrow quirks before he slips into the chair opposite her.

A pang of unease tugs in her gut at his disregard, but she shoves past it, pulling out her laptop. Wes perches on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, and Charlie tries to ignore how she suddenly feels like she’s under a microscope.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” Opening her laptop, she clicks on her PowerPoint.

“I was under the impression I didn’t have a choice,” Theo drawls, scooping up the cat.

Charlie looks up. Theo and Wes exchange a look she can’t decipher, Wes’s eyes narrowed. Theo’s smile sharpens before his gaze flits back to her. Teddie is nestled in his arms, purring against his chest, and she can’t help thinking that Theo looks like an impeccably dressed Bond villain.

Turning her laptop screen toward him, she clears her throat.

“I’d like to start by providing some background information about the clinic. Established by Dr. Victoria Angelo a little over six years ago, The Wild Rue Sexual Wellness Clinic is an important staple of the community.”

The screen shows a series of photos: the building’s exterior, Victoria’s headshot, the mural on the second floor.

“Despite a loss of government funding, the clinic has expanded to include not only abortion and contraception services but important gender-affirming care and screening exams for low-income and underserved patients across Maryland—”

“Charlotte, let me stop you right there,” Theo interjects.

Charlie snaps her head up with surprise.

He looks at her, bored. “Why don’t you get to the part where you tell me how this will benefit me?”

“Theo,” Wes snaps from his barstool.

Charlie’s face flushes at the sudden authority in Wes’s tone, but she doesn’t look at him, holding Theo’s gaze steadily.

He waves a hand in her direction. “I like things quick and to the point.”

Charlie tries to maintain her patience and courage in the face of the condescension dripping off his words, ignoring the sharp, prickly return of her desire to flee. If this is how he wants to play it, then so can she.

Clicking open another file she created in the event that he was less than receptive to her formal presentation, she faces the screen toward him again. “I had a feeling you would say that.”

When his gaze slides back to the screen, his smile vanishes.

Charlie rests her chin on her fist. “Recognize this?”

She clicks the space bar, and a video clip begins playing. Theo reclines on a red leather armchair on the screen, a microphone in hand, arrogant smirk in place. He appears much as he does now: dark hair casually tousled, a five-o’clock shadow on his jaw, wearing a gray sweater with sleeves rolled to the elbows.

“I mean,” the Theo on-screen says, “vibrators were invented for single cat ladies who are too hideous to leave the house and find someone who will sleep with them. It’s the only way they’ll ever get off—”

Charlie pauses the video, Theo’s face frozen in a wide grin.

“I believe,” Charlie starts with a coy smile, “we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.” She gestures to the video. “I discovered that after this little comment went viral, you lost not only a chunk of your listeners but also amassivesponsorship deal with the female-owned vibrator company, Vibes Come First. Obviously they couldn’t sponsor someone who was so flagrantly dismissive of sex toys. What did they have to say about your comment?” Charlie taps a finger to her chin. “I believe they called it ‘a tired, misogynistic take by a closed-minded android’?”

Wes coughs in what sounds like an attempt to hide a laugh.

Theo glares, his eyes transformed into icy dark shards of animosity. “I apologized.”