OKAY, SO HERE’S the thing. My mother’s worst fear has come true. I’m a nymphomaniac. I lust after a lot of men. Of course, maybe that’s because I don’t actually actually have sex with any. And some of my lustings probably aren’t

Riley reminded herself that she was a professional, and stabbing Emerson with her nail file wouldn’t be appropriate.

Omigod. He gave you a car?”
“He said it was an investment in our working relationship. What does that mean?”
“What kind of car is it?”
“A new Porsche.”
“That’s at least oral sex.”
“Be serious!” I said.
“Okay, the truth is . . . It’s beyond oral sex. It could be, you know, butt stuff.”
“I’ll return the car.”
“Stephanie, this is a Porsche!”
“And I think he’s flirting with me, but I’m not sure.

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