Chapter One

 

When Cassie Mills decided to moonlight, she was thinking of something along the lines of taking in typing or writing resumes. Demonstrating Purple Plumes of Passion didn’t even cross her mind.

“Come on, Cassie. At least give it a try,” her best friend Julia Sorenson pleaded. “I’m making so much money, I’m thinking about quitting my day job.”

“My mother would kill me.” That was an understatement. Sarah Jane Mills was the queen of appearances. If company came to visit, the house underwent a full, rigorous cleaning. It didn’t matter if the visitor was the preacher, family, or the Orkin man. Shoot, if her mother had a housekeeper, she’d make sure the house was spotless before the woman arrived to clean.

“Damn it, Cassie. When are you going to quit worrying about what your mother thinks? You’re an adult, entitled to live your own life. Your mother isn’t worth all the angst you go through. It’s time to cut those apron strings.”

Julia arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, reminding Cassie that her own brows were way past due for a wax. And she needed a manicure and pedicure, too. Damn, there went this week’s deposit to her savings account. “I know, I know. But now’s not the time to push her buttons. I just need to find a part-time job checking groceries or something.”

Julia pushed a piece of paper across the Formica-topped table. “Read that and I’ll bet you change your mind.”

Cassie scooted her breakfast plate out of the way and picked up her coffee cup. The Lone Star Diner, famous for its cheap, home-style bacon-and-eggs breakfast, was their favorite Saturday morning meeting place. It hadn’t changed a bit since 1970, when her mom and dad had carved their initials into the tabletop over milkshakes one Saturday afternoon. The initials were still there, right under her saucer.

“I’m not going to change my mind.” But she picked up the paper and glanced at it anyway. Julia’s earnings for the first quarter jumped out at her. “You’re kidding me. For working part-time?” That part-time income was more than twice what Cassie made working forty hours a week, and Julia didn’t even have to put up with Belinda the Barracuda to get her paycheck.

Julia smeared strawberry jam over her toast and used the knife to draw an x in the air. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Sex toys are hot. Everyone who comes to the parties buys something. Some of them drop a couple hundred bucks without batting an eyelash. I just take their money and dance all the way to the bank.”

Cassie sighed. She wished she could be more like Julia, not worrying about what other people thought. But in the back of her mind, she could hear her mother’s voice-- “Cassandra Jean, what will the neighbors think?”

“That’s great for you, but I’d get fired, not to mention disowned, if anyone found out I was selling that stuff. I can’t do it.”

But it was tempting. Surely, for that much money she could hold up a big, purple dildo with a straight face, right?

“Look, you want to move to Seattle so you can live in peace, sans relatives, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then one, you need money for the trip. Two, you need deposits for an apartment and utilities, DSL, groceries, and linens and three, you need money for all those other incidentals you always forget to count, plus money to live on for a couple of weeks until you get your first paycheck. So, how much are you putting aside each week right now?”

Cassie thought about the anemic balance in her savings account. Not much. “I try to put a hundred a month aside, but things come up.” Like the brow wax. And the manicure. And it was time to have her hair trimmed. “Maybe I’ll just find the perfect man and get married, and we’ll move away together.”

Julia crossed her arms and sighed loudly. “Look, how about just giving this a try? I’ll let you use my kit for the first party, you can see if you like it, and if you do, you can buy your own stuff out of your profits. That way it won’t cost you anything up front.”

That seemed fair enough. But there was still that one nagging problem. “But what if my mother finds out?”

Julia slapped her palms on the table hard enough to rattle the silverware, drawing stares from the other diners. “If she does, so what? If she says anything about it, tell her to fuck off. It’s about time you did that anyway.”

Cassie laughed. You did not tell Sarah Mills to fuck off. “You’re right. I know you are. But the very idea scares me to death.”

“Which idea? Selling sex toys, or telling your mother to fuck off?” Julia cocked an eyebrow, and Cassie knew Jules was waiting to see if she was going to cave to her mother’s disapproval, or take a chance on putting her plan in motion.

She looked up and grimaced. “Both.” When Julia crossed her arms again and glared at her across the table, she gave up. “Fine. I’ll try it. But I’m not promising anything.”

Julia grinned. “As soon as you get that first paycheck, you’ll be hooked. I guarantee it.”

“Hooked, or hanged? Oh God, I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

***

“Ladies—and gentlemen,” Cassie said with a nod to the lone man in the room, “this is our most popular item--the Purple Plume of Passion. As you can see, it’s a double–headed vibrator, designed to reach that G-spot--and other highly erogenous zones.”

Hazel Martin, a tiny woman who had to be seventy at the very least, raised her hand as though they were in a classroom discussing Elizabethan history. “Do people actually use both parts of that at once? I mean….”

“Hush, Hazel,” her sister Mary said, poking her in the ribs. “Let her explain.”

The younger women in the room knew exactly what the second head was for. Even a couple of the older women had flashed knowing grins when she’d pulled it out of the box. But Hazel and Mary had probably led sheltered lives, with nothing more than vanilla missionary-style sex for a frame of reference. They’d been full of questions, making Cassie’s job that much harder and more embarrassing.

“Yes, Hazel, some people do use both heads at the same time. You see, the, um, rectum is very sensitive, even more so than the vagina.” Oh man. This was harder than she’d thought. It was one thing to gossip about it with friends. Talking about it to strangers was an entirely different matter.

The single male guest tried to hide a huge grin behind his brochure, but Cassie could see it from where she stood. She forced herself to grin in return, though she’d much rather dig a hole and crawl into it.

Hazel scowled and crossed her arms. “Sounds like a hemorrhoid waiting to happen.”

The entire group cracked up and Cassie took the opportunity to end the demonstration. She passed out pens so the guests could start working on their orders and headed to the refreshment table to get a cup of punch. God, could the last few minutes have been any more embarrassing? Maybe it would be easier once she got used to it. And with any luck it might get easier to hold up a two-headed purple vibrator in front of older women without blushing.

By the time the last guest had filed out the door and she’d packed Julia’s product cases, Cassie was ready for a stiff drink and a willing man, in that order. Who would have thought showing this stuff could make you so horny?

“You did very well for your first party,” Julia said as she tossed the orders into her leather briefcase and snapped it closed.

“I don’t know about that. Hazel nearly did me in. But there were a lot of orders. Is this normal, or were they buying more because Valentine’s Day is coming up?”

“It’s pretty typical, but once you get more confident and familiar with the products, you’ll sell even more. You probably made close to three hundred dollars tonight. I told you it was a great business, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, and you were right.” Cassie wondered why she’d fought Julia so hard and wasted so much time. “This is fantastic. I’ll be able to save up enough to leave before you know it, thanks to you.”

“That’s what friends are for. I’ll help you with the next two parties, but after that you’re on your own. You’ll do fine. You’re a natural.”

“Maybe. Or maybe tonight was a fluke.” Would she ever be as good as Julia? Cassie had gone to one of her parties a couple of weeks earlier, to see how it was done. Julia was the perfect consultant; at ease with the products, knowledgeable, able to make her guests comfortable enough to ask questions. Yes, Cassie liked people and got along well with just about everyone, she loved sex and wasn’t afraid to talk about it, and she’d managed to bumble her way through her first party. But that didn’t make her a natural. Just desperate for money.

“So what do you have planned for Valentine’s Day? Scored any more trips to the Caribbean?” Julia headed for the door, pausing to toss a conspiratorial wink over her shoulder.

Cassie sighed. “Not this year. For the first time in recent memory, I’m without a date for Valentine’s Day. What about you? Want to go barhopping with me?”

Julia shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t. Griff is taking me somewhere special. All he’ll tell me is that it’s a surprise.”

Griff. Julia’s idea of Mr. Right, but Cassie’s idea of a ball and chain. “Do you think he’s going to propose?”

Julia shrugged, but the heightened color in her cheeks made Cassie think she hoped that was part of the Valentine’s plan. She should be happy for her. And she was, really. But what would she do without Julia to hang out with? Griff disapproved of their friendship, constantly telling Julia she needed to cultivate relationships with the more socially respected members of the community. Once they were married, Cassie was pretty sure she’d see little of her best friend.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter in a few more months. She’d be living somewhere else, making new friends. Possibly meeting a guy of her own.

Man, she needed to get a life. If she didn’t, she’d end up using sex toys herself for a little excitement. As she put the product cases in Julia’s car, she thought about the long, lonely night ahead of her and considered asking Julia if she could buy one of the samples from the case.