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Being in a public space with Spiegler is simultaneously the best and worst. Because he’s a porn agent, he’s constantly on his phone yelling things like “Your boy/girl scene tomorrow just became anal!” regardless of where we are. Surrounding people turn around to see who we are and are either amused or disgusted. On a good day, this is hilarious. On a bad day, this is mortifying. One time, when he was hospitalized for two weeks after back surgery, I came into his room (that he shared with a stranger) in the morning to find him completely sprawled out, his head at the middle of the bed, legs up in the air crossed, voice-texting someone: “She’s done a couple blowbangs, but never a gang-bang—lemme ask how much she’d want for it.” He looked up and complained to me that his phone never recognized gangbang as a word unless he separated it into two words, gang and bang. I asked him why he didn’t type the text out like a normal human being, but he just shrugged. I think he likes the attention.

We were at lunch in Malibu. Bonnie Rotten had just announced her pregnancy, Carter Cruise had decided she only wanted to do lesbian scenes from now on, and an A-list girl from another agency had just been listed on an escorting site, so we had lots to talk about.

“I wonder what her rate is?” I said aloud as I reluctantly pushed away the bread.

“Why don’t you call and find out?”

“I’ll ask Dave to do it.” Because Dave is a millionaire who loves whores, he is on the VIP list at all of the high-class escorting agencies. He has access to the secret pages of the sites, where the girls who don’t want to be identified are listed; this was how we had found out about this particular girl.

I watched Spiegler in envy as he tore apart his bread and ate it piece by piece, slathering butter on it without giving it any thought. One day, I thought. One day, when I’m done with porn, that will be me. Thoughts like this keep me going.

“You’re thinking you’re fat, aren’t you,” Spiegler said with his mouth full. I nodded.

“I can read you like a fuckin’ book. Listen, you think you’re gonna feel different when you’re done with porn, but lemme tell you somethin’—you’re never gonna allow yourself to gain weight. You’re too fuckin’ neurotic. I know you too well.”

For once, Spiegler was wrong. Toni and I had made a deal a few years before that when I turned forty, no matter what was going on in our lives, I was going to get fat. I proudly announced this any time the issue of my extreme dieting came up, and I meant it. And here it is now in writing. You’ll see.

We moved onto talk about Carter going lesbian only. “Between you going under contract, Jessie, Carter, and Skin going girl/girl-only, and fuckin’ Bonnie getting knocked up, the site’s gonna be full of girls I can’t book,” Spiegler sighed.

“We can be called the Spiegler Girl/Girl Girls,” I joked.

“Ugh!”

This was my favorite Spiegler expression. “UGH!” A sound of such disgust, it was comical. It was one that some of the other girls and I had adopted, and now when someone is doing an impression of me, they use it too.

“By the way, guess who’s coming back to shooting?”

I thought about it. “Boy or girl?”

“Boy. Well sort of.”

“Luke?”

“Yup. I heard he broke up with his girlfriend and now he’s back.”

“To gay or straight?” Luke was my ex-boyfriend. He did straight porn when we were together and then moved onto gay porn a few months after we broke up. Which I felt was extremely stingy, considering the fact I had begged him to let me watch him at least blow a guy while we were together. He always said no, but at least he let me fuck his ass with a strap-on.

“Apparently straight,” Spiegler raised his eyebrows.

“Well doesn’t matter to me, cause I am never fucking him again. Not even for money.”

“This is why you shouldn’t fuckin’ date male talent!”

“Ugh!” I exclaimed. “I hate exes. I wish people would just come without exes. Erase them from our lives like in Eternal Sunshine.” I had said this many times before. I didn’t consider myself an overly jealous person, unless it had to do with exes. Not that a person who had never been in a relationship sounded appealing, but...I just couldn’t stand the thought of someone I loved having been in love with someone else before me. My intelligent self knew they were exes for a reason; personally, I couldn’t stand the thought of going back to anyone in my past.

There was my ex-husband—he was in jail. He owned an underground poker club and was imprisoned for promotion of gambling. Even if he were a free man, there was no way in hell I could be with him. The time I had been with him was practically a black hole in my brain; we spent the entire year and a half on opiates, in a big blur.

My other ex, the one I was with when I had entered the porn business, was an Adderall popper turned alcoholic turned heroin junkie turned methadone addict.

Then there was the other alcoholic, and closeted Luke, and the cute Jewish boy who was never comfortable with my sexual nature or the fact that I was a gentile.

The only one I could’ve considered being with again was Kevin. But he was dead. Perhaps I only thought of him fondly because of this.

“Do you even know what Toni’s ex-wife looks like?” Spiegler asked as his burger and my salad arrived.

I shook my head no, which was half true. I had successfully avoided even knowing her name for a long time, but about a year into our relationship someone let it slip and I Googled her. I saw her Wikipedia page, so I vaguely knew what she looked like, although I wouldn’t know it if I passed her on the street. I knew she was Hungarian. I knew she had natural tits. I knew she had gotten into porn with Toni. And if that weren’t bad enough—she used to be a Spiegler girl. It was long before I had entered the business; we had never crossed paths. But this knowledge made me want to murder her: my husband AND my best friend? It was too much.

“I think I saw her on a box cover recently,” Spiegler continued.

All of a sudden, I could feel every beat of my heart in my chest. For a moment, everything sounded further away than it had a second ago. I sat up in my seat and consciously took a deep breath. “What do you mean? Does that mean she’s back shooting again? Or was in a compilation of old scenes?” I already knew the answer.

“I think she’s shooting again,” Spiegler answered. I leaned back into my seat. Was this a subject I cared to learn about? Definitely. Was it the kind of knowledge that would benefit me in any way? Absolutely not.

I didn’t want Spiegler to see how much I cared, so I picked up my fork and started eating my salad, trying to look busy. I tried to think of a way to change the subject, always an impossible task when needed. Think of something else to talk about... He’s going to know you’re upset. Say something...anything...

“Guess who wants to start shooting DP,” Spiegler blurted. Thank god.

When Toni came home that night, I had honestly planned on not bringing his ex-wife up. It was the first day of shooting his new movie Oil and Anal (title self-explanatory), and I knew he would be tired. So instead we ate dinner, watched a movie, sang karaoke on the PlayStation, and got ready for bed.

“Are you gonna come tuck me in?” I yelled from my bed when I heard him switching off the hallway lights. Every night I asked him this, even though every night I knew he would anyway.

“I had a bad day,” I pouted as he sat on my bed. Oh no. It was happening. I had done so well! It was all going to shit.

“What’s wrong, my skinny princess?” Toni bent down to tickle me.

“Don’t!” I screamed. “This is abuse! I’m calling the cops!” I shrieked, laughing. I’m aware this interaction makes it sound like we are in some weird daddy-daughter fantasy relationship, but that’s not the case. With Toni on top of me, the words just came out of my mouth: “Did you know your ex-wife is back to shooting?”

Toni stopped tickling me. Looking straight into my eyes, he started smiling the way he does when he’s unable to lie or keep a secret. I can’t help but find this endearing, and it’s gotten him out of trouble a few times.

“Oh, so you know?”

“Yeah, well, Spiegler told me.”

“So Spiegler told you he talked to her?”

WHAT?

“Spiegler TALKED TO HER?”

Toni stood up, and I could tell he wanted to turn back time. “Don’t tell him I told you! I promised him I wouldn’t tell. Wait, so then how do you know she’s back in porn?”

“Spiegler told me he saw a box cover of her. Now tell me what the fuck’s going on!”

Toni took a breath before he continued. “A few months ago, Spiegler was like ‘Guess who’s asking me to represent her again. I told her no way, Asa would be mad at me for even talking to her.’ Which you are now! So don’t tell him I told you.”

I wasn’t mad. “Spiegler turned her down? For me?” I couldn’t hide my smile. “I can’t believe he was able to keep that secret!”

I was no longer upset that Toni’s ex-wife was back to shooting. Not for the moment anyway. Spiegler had turned her down, for me, and had managed to keep it a secret to spare my feelings.

It made my day.