Mrs. Robinson (Mrs. Robinson #1) Read Free Page A

dude told his clueless virginal girlfriend to drop her panties, went to town on her for an hour, and then flew her off into the sunset in his helicopter in some perfect little happily ever after. News flash: real life didn’t come with happy endings. There were jagged edges; flaws in the system; all kinds of unsavory details to deal with. I mean, in the last book I read, the female character had eight orgasms in one night. Eight! Who even orgasms during sex at all ? The endless parade of billionaires, affairs, bondage, drama, unrealistic orgasms – at the end of the day my romance novels were kind of bullshit, and they did nothing to help my unhappy little life. Every book was the same, and I was starting to feel like it was time to shake things up. Where was the climax of my story? Were Richard and I built to break? Would things somehow pick up, and the magic would return? Or would I stay in the shades of grey forever?
    I grabbed my iPad Mini from my bag to distract myself, as I had appetizers on the way and didn’t want to waste a perfectly good eighteen-dollar salad just because I’d been ditched. I pulled up my browser, which was set to some political news blog I’d been reading earlier, when suddenly a certain story caught my eye:
     
    CONTROVERSIAL NEW APP BEING CALLED MAIL ORDER SERVICE FOR YOUNG MALE PROSTITUTES , the headline read.
    What ?
    I tried to close out the window, but something stopped me. Telling myself I only wanted to rubberneck at these crazy women using this strange app, I opened the story.
     
    NEW “COMPANIONSHIP” APP IS ALL THE RAGE – BUT ARE CLIENTS PAYING FOR MORE THAN JUST FRIENDSHIP?
     
    The intrigue only grew as I scanned the article. Apparently there was a hot new app called Hookd that sad sacks were using to pay young hot dudes to sleep with them, and it was stirring up all kinds of drama. But because of a loophole in the wording of the app, it wasn’t even illegal – not yet, at least. I even laughed a little at the last paragraph:
     
    …Congresswoman Gloria Schein’s office had no comment on recent reports naming her as one of the controversial new app’s clients, but when confronted outside the Forum on Upholding Family Values that Schein hosted on Capitol Hill this morning, the notoriously conservative Republican did instruct reporters to “keep their grubby little hands out of her love life”…
     
    Suddenly my pulse sped up. My hands slickened with sweat. A legal service that could deliver one of the beautiful boys I read about in my novels – the idea certainly had its appeal. Was this app my ticket to living again?
    Wait – no. This is crazy.
    I told myself I was being ridiculous and X’d out the story. That was the last thing I needed right now, especially considering all Richard’s other scandals he had running. Figuring I’d lose myself in a novel like usual, I chose a book from the bestseller lists, a debut from a young male author that seemed chock full of sexy, cheesy drama, and then pulled up my Kindle app and tried to focus…but unfortunately, the book hit a little too close to home. “When you’re in love,” the book began, “the whole world feels like New York City.” I frowned, thinking of how my gauzy, sparkling dream life had burned down into this horrid little American nightmare – was this really it for me?
    I tried to stop myself and focus on my book, but soon I was powerless against the lusty tide sweeping over me. As I sipped my wine, another side of my brain – the reckless, foolish, long-silenced part of it that had persuaded me to get a tiny tattoo on my ankle when I was nineteen and try marijuana at my first party with Richard, leaving me in a coughing fit for the rest of the night – looped back to the app. I reminded myself that I didn’t have to leave in order to throw water on the hot coals inside me that begged for revenge on Richard with every breath. In fact, I could serve his medicine right back at him, except with someone