“Bjorn, no! Are you serious?” Zoe exclaimed, staring at her best friend with an expression of mingled horror and amusement. It was ten on a Thursday morning, which meant it was their unofficial gossip session alongside Cassie, the last member of their work throuple. Bjorn believed that contrary to popular expectations, the week’s juiciest events always happened on hump day and not the weekend (“people go batshit in the middle of the week because the weekend still feels too far away”).
“Do I ever kid around?” Bjorn sniffed, but Chic’s junior lifestyle writer couldn’t hide his pleased smirk at the reactions toward his recount of his dating shenanigans the previous night. Feeling friskier than usual, he and his paramour du jour decided to hit up a popular SoHo bistro while she was wearing a remote-controlled vibrator. Bjorn was relishing the power rush of being in control of said vibrator when he noticed in the app that there was a vibrator pattern labeled Marcus. When he asked about it, the woman had broken down, revealing tearfully that she had created it based on her late husband’s last heartbeats.
“Let me get this straight,” Cassie, Chic’s junior stylist, said slowly, lowering her voice even though the three of them were the only ones at the office section “reserved” for entry-level employees. “She enjoys having orgasms to the rhythm of his last moments?”
“She’s just doing it to feel connected to him,” Bjorn clarified. “I think the vibration’s too slow to actually bring her over the edge, ’cos you know, I don’t think a person’s last heartbeats are very—” His voice suddenly rose. “Yes, Zoe, I’ll forward you the press kit at once.”
Zoe’s heart sank. Editor alert.
Sure enough, a ring-studded hand soon landed on her desk. Zoe’s eyes traced the line of the toned and perfectly hairless arm up to the immaculately made-up face of Chic’s fashion editor, Francesca Fraatz. To an outsider, Francesca’s…
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