Make Him Look Good by Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez

Author:Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 2011-12-16T00:00:00+00:00

friday, may 24

Jill Sanchez smiles as the flashbulbs pop, and does her best to seem like she is giggling and ducking her way past mildly annoying paparazzi and reporters in the back of a shiny white Lincoln Town Car. She pretends to be shocked that they have the nerve to invade her privacy, even though she is actually castigating her fiancé, Jack, who sits at her side, aping the photographers.

“Quit pouting and smile,” she says through clenched, smiling teeth. It isn’t her fault that they have to run damage control on more stories about Jack’s strip-club habit. It is his fault. And this evening, damage control involves an outrageously flirty petticoat minidress by Dsquared, bodicey and tight up top, yet roomy enough in the lower half to invite speculation that she might be pregnant, even though she, of course, isn’t. There is no better trick for keeping your picture and story in the magazines than pretending to want to be pregnant, and teasing the cameras. Dowdy, it is not, however. It is very short, and her legs are creamed and glittered to perfection, the golden thighs peeking ever so expertly out of the soft, beige suede knee-high stiletto go-go boots. Jill Sanchez wants the look to say “one sexy mama, maybe,” and it does.

“Rumi sucked, and this Tantra shit will suck, too,” says Jack of today’s outing. He wears another one of the outfits she’s picked for him, intended, she says, to give him a “Ward Cleaver meets Kurt Cobain” vibe. Just the kind of dad you want, he thinks; goes to the office in the morning, shoots his fucking brains out in the evening. He wears a button-down shirt, open, and dark jeans that he actually kind of digs. With sandals that he fucking hates. He is happy to note to himself that he has a business trip coming up in his favorite city of Los Angeles, and he will soon be out of this nightmare and back in his own neck of the woods.

Jill has chosen Tantra for their “date” because of the sexual connotations, because she wants to convey an image of love and joy in her relationship, as a form of damage control. The restaurant and nightclub in South Beach is known for its unblushingly sexual menu, filled with racy quotes like “a woman should never be seen eating and drinking unless it’s lobster, caviar, and Champagne,” and dishes guaranteed to enhance, increase, and otherwise really rev up the libido.

Only happy, horny lovers go to Tantra, in the estimation of Jill Sanchez. They come to Tantra to share the Tantra combo: Pacific oysters, shrimp, calamari salad, sweet-soy-grilled eel, lobster wontons, crab claws, tuna sushi, and wasabi sorbet. It is a place not for the prudish or shy but for hip young lovers who are unashamed of their passionate romps, even if they are on the way to the stodgy old altar.

In reality—a realm Jill Sanchez chooses to inhabit as infrequently as possible—she and Jack have been

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