POV: Raven
Ten minutes into the commencement, the feedback and comments come roaring in and it’s clear that the post has caused a stir. The sexual conservatives—who hold common attitudes about femininity—question my willingness to speak about sex, and have concerns about how this will affect our social norms. The sexual liberals— who support me, and who willingly embrace new sexual freedoms for women—have voiced the need to discard women's conventional roles regarding desire, while encouraging me to continue pushing the boundaries.
My phone is buzzing nonstop with tweets, emails and text messages expressing judgment and criticisms, but I’ve also received overwhelming praise and support for the decision to do this. I’m getting memos from reporters and radio stations asking me for interviews and exclusives, while Lola is manning the stacks of comments on the blog. But despite all the feedback I’m receiving, the only response I’m interested in right now is from the person seated at the Sports News Channel anchor desk.
I’m so nervous that I set my phone down and switch it to vibrate so I can redirect my attention to what’s happening on the TV screen. I’m waiting for any signs he's received the list.
After ten more minutes of watching, I see the announcer hold up his hand in the middle of one of Dexter's self-promoting monologues, before pressing his fingers on his earpiece.
“Lola! It's happening!” I scream, motioning her over to the TV screen. She closes the laptop and rushes to sit on the corner of my desk, waiting for Dexter's reaction.
The announcer’s eyes grow enormous as he listens to the producer in his earpiece. He reaches for the iPad that is stationed on the anchor desk before pressing some keys on the attached keyboard. He reads a little before smiling in satisfaction.
“The much-rumored existence of your ex-wife's Sex Bucket List has just been confirmed, and she launched it today. I also notice that there are countless companies that have donated their products and who have bought advertising space on her website supporting her initiative. When we asked you about it last month, you said that she would never do something like this because she is the quintessential obedient girl, and she didn't have the guts. Well, you have underestimated her yet again, Dexter. Would you want to comment?Especially about #6, seeing that you just stated that you were her only sex partner, so she must be referring to you.” The announcer chuckles, pushing the iPad over so Dexter can have it.
Dexter turns a beet-red as he reads the list. He unloosens his tie and squirms in his chair before looking into the camera. “Well, I’ll be in New York one more night and Raven and I have dinner plans ... so when I meet her, I will ask her about number 6. But I’m sure that this is all some publicity stunt... she is an advertising genius, after all.”
Lola snorts at his answer before quirking an eyebrow at me. “So you have gone from writing a little blog with insignificant victories, to being an advertising genius all in thirty minutes. That guy is a piece of work!” Lola shakes her head before becoming quiet again.
I smile during the rest of the interview as Dexter stumbles through the remaining series of questions with a distance view in his eyes. But I see him... I recognize that look, he’s fuming underneath, and I also realize what that anger will lead too.
My smile fades, my hands become moist and my face turns white with anxiety. I get up from my chair to pour myself a glass of water, realizing the firestorm I’ve just ignited. Although I wanted to stick it to Dexter for saying all those things, I never imagined that he would want to meet me... I don't know if I’m ready to see him again in the flesh.
“This is great! Did you notice his challenge?'”
I turn, and the corners of Lola's lips turns up into a contemptuous and mocking smile, but when she sees the worry on my face, a knowing look washes over her.
“You never agreed to dinner with him did you?”
I shake my head as my hands tremble a little around my cup.
“Has he ever hit you?” She glances at me, waiting for my answer.
“Most of the time it was just verbal abuse... yelling, calling me names, putting me down. He only struck me a few times...” I confess ashamed.
“What?! Why didn't you tell me?!” She frowns in dread, walking toward me. She takes the glass of water from my hand and leads me to the sofa.
“He made me feel like it was all my fault.For so long that I believed him...” My voice trails to a whisper, remembering the terror and panic I felt every time I walked into our home. I spent almost three years getting over this... over him, but the piercing look he gave me through the screen of the television brought it all back.
“Does Hugh know?” Lola asks, holding her breath.
“God, No! And there is no reason for him to find out. We haven't seen or spoken to each other in over two years. I’m confident that Hugh doesn't even think about me anymore.”
Admitting this truth out loud releases the ache in my heart that I’ve been carrying around every day since he left me in my apartment alone that night. The pain is so severe sometimes it causes me physical agony.
“I’m uncertain I agree with that statement...” Lola mumbles underneath her breath, before getting up from the couch.
“Lola...What do you know?” I stand, stalking behind her to my desk.
“Nothing... I remembered the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching. He only had eyes for you. God knows he’s never given me the time of day. I’ve definitely tried to hit that, trust me.” She swoons, licking her lips.
My head swivels from side to side trying to shake that visual from my head.
“Lola..Focus!”
Lola smiles giggling to herself, as her hands swirl in a circular motion, promoting me to go on.
“Hugh was my best friend, don’t be ridiculous. Besides, If I was so special to him, why did he leave me? Why hasn't he called me?” I argue as a lump in my throat threatens to unleash the tears I’m trying to hold back.
Before I can protest further, my phone vibrates on my desk. I roll my eyes at her before picking up my cellphone and looking at the screen... it’s Dexter. I turn the screen to Lola as she gasps in surprise.
“You don't have to answer it you know,” she states, matter-of- factly.
“Yes, I do. I’m not running from this... from him anymore.” I take a deep breath and answer it.
“Hello Dexter, it's been a while. To what do I owe this call?” I ask.
He doesn't greet me or make small talk, he just issues an imperative statement. “Meet me at Le Bernardin at 8:00pm. Don't be late.” Then he hangs up.
I look at the phone with an unsettling expression on my face, before lowering it back to the desk.
“What did he say?”
“He just ordered me to dinner tonight at 8:00pm and just hung up.”
“Well, after what you just told me, I’m not letting you go alone. So, either I’m going with you or...” she smiles as she rubs her hands together.
“Or what?”
“Or... you could ask one of the three guys you've been dating to meet you at the restaurant tonight. That way if he tries anything, you will have someone there who might deter him.”
I speculate about her proposal before deciding she’s right. I don't know what state of mind he’s in, so it's stronger to err on the side of caution instead of taking unnecessary risk.
“I think you had better sit this one out, Lola, because all you will do is antagonize him more, so... I will call Greg and have him meet me at the restaurant at 8:15pm. Dexter’s only getting fifteen minutes of my time.”
I call Greg to set everything up. I work for a couple more hours before leaving the office to go get dressed for dinner, not knowing what the night will bring.
