Chapter 1

It’s never too late to reinvent yourself.

Days morph together when they’re the same. This was how Erica felt, a single mother of two. Even working her dream job as an editor was becoming humdrum.

She’d wake up, help prepare the kids for school, then spend the rest of the day doing her work as a freelance writer or editor. Her life was very middle-class and mostly repetitive.

Being a single mother could be daunting at times. Especially as the sole source of income for the family. It was a lot of work too, especially since her kids were active in soccer, swimming, and other clubs. But she loved her life. She loved her family. She loved the hard work and responsibility that came with it.

As a grown woman in her prime, there was still that lingering feeling that something was missing in her life. Something long forgotten, an itch she couldn’t scratch. For the most part, life went on as normal despite this feeling, but on this day, it could no longer be ignored.

On this particular day, Erica had a lunch-meeting, which had been arranged by the publishing company. They had wanted her to do revisions for a recently signed debut novelist. It was sort of an awkward situation, but she was used to those sorts of jobs, being hired to help less experienced writers. Big publishing companies often liked to tinker with books, and Erica wasn’t someone who’d turn down a good job.

Days before this meeting, Erica had been given a manuscript of the author’s work. It was incredibly rough with a few bright spots. Erica could see why the publishing company wanted it, especially since authentic erotica by women had become such hot sellers in recent years.

These sorts of meetings were Erica’s favorite way of getting to know the author she’d be working with. It was important for her to contribute in a way that was consistent with the author’s style, rather than leaving her own footprint.

As always, Erica came early and waited in the classy Italian restaurant, wearing a buttoned up blouse and neatly pressed pants. The place was slightly crowded, which was perfect because it was less likely that someone would overhear their conversation.

She was watching the door and noticed an attractive woman walk in and smile at her. Erica could not deny that the woman was alluring, and the self-confidence she wore made women like Erica feel insignificant in comparison.

To Erica’s surprise, the strange woman approached her, still smiling, and extended a handshake.

“I’m Tiffany,” she said. “You must be Erica.”

Erica nodded, dumbstruck, before standing up to take the offered hand. There was no way that the beautiful woman standing in front of her was the author she was going to be working with, surely?

They sat down at the dining table where they continued to make polite remarks towards each other, smile, and make the inevitable small talk about traffic and the weather. Eventually, they placed their orders and handed their menus to the waitress.

“Is this how the process normally works?” Tiffany asked. “We go out to lunch, get acquainted, and then you hack my work to a million pieces?”

There was a note of playfulness at the end of Tiffany’s sentence, which let Erica know that this relationship was going to go smoothly. Many authors could be very sensitive as to how their stories were handled by editors or collaborators.

All the while, Erica couldn’t help but admire the seductive lips and perfect teeth of the woman sitting across the table from her. She was just too perfect. Surely this woman must be an idiot and a terrible writer to boot. No one is this perfect, Erica secretly hoped.

Erica politely smiled back, “This is how I like to get things started. I like getting to know the person I’m working with before I ‘hack’ their work. It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

Both of them giggled at the obvious jab.

“So the manuscript I submitted is as bad as everyone says?” Tiffany asked jokingly.

Erica switched back to her professional tone. “It’s not bad at all, at least in my opinion. A bit rough in several parts, I’ll admit. But there’s a reason why the publisher bought your book, and why I’m sitting here. They think your story has the potential to be a hit. And frankly, I’m inclined to agree.”

“It’s true, you know?”

“What is?” Erica asked.

“The story in the draft you’ve read. It’s a true story. That’s why people seem drawn it. Those were really my feelings and the sex acts were my own.”

Immediately, Erica felt her head spin. Her mind instinctively swirled with thoughts of pretty Tiffany doing all those lesbian acts with women Erica’s age. What a thought, but she didn’t want her feelings to show. This was a work-lunch and she had to act professional.

“Well, plenty of authors draw inspiration from real life,” Erica said, trying not to sound judgmental at all. “There’s certainly nothing wrong with that, or that particular lifestyle.”

Tiffany winked before leaning across the table, her cleavage clearly visible, “Don’t tell anyone though.”

“Our secret.” Erica breathed, trying to hide the fact she was blatantly staring at the young woman’s bosom.

“I’m glad you’re open to this,” Tiffany smiled. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Now that I know, I think we’re going to have a great working relationship. Who knows, maybe we’ll even become friends?”

There was a cryptic look on Tiffany’s face, slightly suggestive, which Erica had never seen before from another author. She tried to ignore it and sound professional once again.

“I hope so. Anyway, tell me about you. I love knowing about the person I’m working with.”

“Only if you return the favor,” Tiffany said.

As the drinks came and went, Tiffany revealed herself as a young renaissance woman. She dabbled in a little bit of everything. She majored in Creative Writing with hopes of someday writing for a publication, or writing her own novel. After college, she worked a few years as a sales associate for a high-end boutique to pay the bills, along with a few modeling gigs for local events.

Most interesting of all, Tiffany revealed her three-year long association with a little known group called High Heels, Red Lipstick..

“Think of it as a women’s empowerment group,” Tiffany tried to explain, after some thoughts on how to do so. “If there’s ever a damsel in distress, the signal goes up, and we’re there to provide support.”

Tiffany fought to contain her smile. “It’s in my book. Now it’s your turn. Tell me all about you.”

It was only fair that Erica give just as much detail. She revealed her childhood passion for books. All she ever used to do was read. Growing up, she was mostly a bookworm who enjoyed science fiction novels and women’s literature. These days she’d read anything, from trashy to classic literature.

She also discussed her most important job of all, which was being a mother. She went on and on about how her kids meant everything to her, and that they were her entire world. She explained how her days usually revolved around the lives of her two kids.

“That’s me in a nutshell,” Erica summed up, with a wry smile. “I’m a mother, which also means that I’m a chauffeur, chef, referee, and all the other stressful titles that come with being a parent. Way down the list, I’m a freelance writer and editor.”

“Ah, the working mom,” Tiffany replied teasingly.

“You say that like it’s something rare.”

“More like a preference for me. Women like you are my typical clients.”

“Women like me?” Erica asked, eyebrow raised. “As in soccer moms?”

“Precisely. I work with soccer moms a lot. In fact, that’s the target audience for this book. Women who are career-driven, goal oriented, along with having to balance their family life, who need something to read to relieve their daily stress.”

Erica smiled, “There’s a term for that. It’s called ‘mommy porn.’ The term is a bit crude, but I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Have you ever worked on any of those?”

Erica shook her head. “I’ve never written anything like that, and I’ve never been asked to edit or revise anything similar either.”

“So this is your first time working on erotica.”

“A first time for both of us,” Tiffany said. “This is my first attempt at a novel and I was lucky enough to get a book deal out of it.”

“Well, it’ll be a fun learning experience for both of us.”

“I’m sure it’ll turn out great,” Tiffany said. “Be honest with me, how much work does my manuscript actually need? I feel it has several high notes, but it’s a bit clunky in other areas.”

Erica thought for a moment. “I’ve only skimmed through your manuscript. Frankly, I’d say it does need a bit of work. You’re right though, there are several high notes to your book though.”

“And what will your role be? Did the people at the publishing office ask you to tear my work apart and make it more commercial?”

There was a carefree tone in Tiffany’s voice, like whatever the response would be wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

“No,” Erica replied. “I’m here to help improve your novel, not rewrite the whole thing. My job is simply to enhance the story, not take it over. I think of myself as a makeup artist, not a plastic surgeon.”

Tiffany held up her drink to make a toast. “To a great story.”

“To a great story,” Erica said, touching her glass to Tiffany’s.

Both women took a deep drink. Erica’s eyes lingered on Tiffany’s perfect mouth a moment too long. She wondered whether the Goddess sitting across from her would be receptive to a kiss, then shook her head to dispel the thought.

“How about this,” Tiffany said. “Read my manuscript again and send me whatever you think the story needs. Notes, comments, suggestions, anything at all. Then I’ll incorporate them. I’ve never done this before and I don’t know how this usually works, but that makes the most sense to me.”

“That sounds good. I can definitely do that.”

Working relationships can sometimes be tricky. Sometimes personalities don’t match and people can be too territorial with their work. But in this case, Erica had a great feeling about things. She loved words. She loved stories. And she loved helping new authors.

But with the author being a young woman like Tiffany, things were going to be a little different.

The name of the book was Red Lipstick Expectations.

Erica had no problem dealing with erotic stories, especially if they were tasteful and well-written. These days, many novels feature erotic scenes in them. Mostly at the request of the publisher to help boost sales.

While sitting on the bed with her laptop late at night, she carefully scrutinized every piece of the story to determine the strengths and weaknesses.

It was always an interesting thing to actually first meet the author, and then read their work. There was rarely ever a connection between the author’s real life personality and the stuff they wrote. Even the most unassuming person could write things you’d never expect of them.

But in the case of a young woman like Tiffany, it almost felt autobiographical. From the start, the book grabbed the reader’s attention with a sultry description of the main character’s nude body.

While editing, Erica wondered if Tiffany’s nipples were as light a shade of pink as was described in the story. She wondered if Tiffany was sexually adventurous like the character in the book.

After she had washed up and prepared for bed, she laid under her blanket thinking of all these things. Her days were usually stressful. And there was always a particular way to relieve these stresses.

A hand crept under her nightgown. She teased her clitoris with her forefinger, softly drawing small circles around the hood. Thoughts of Tiffany swirled in her mind; her full lips, soft eyes, and how she had winked so suggestively. For a moment, Erica wished she was the mature woman in Tiffany’s manuscript.

Like most women, Erica had fantasies of other women before. Yet she had never acted upon them. But a girl could fantasize, right? Erica did just that. She imagined all sorts of scenarios with Tiffany. Dirty ones… yet classy.