I said as Adam handed me a box of lo mein, “but our overall numbers are not where they need to be.” We were having a quiet evening in at Adam’s apartment, sitting on the couch, eating takeout while the TV droned on in the background. I wouldn’t have traded this for the VIP Room of any club in Manhattan. After all, they didn’t have Adam.“Hmmm …,” he said, and dipped his egg roll in the plum sauce. “Might be time for another eight-part series on the orgasm.”“You think so?” I asked, chopsticks partway to my mouth. “What new angle could—” I stopped. Adam was grinning at me. “Oh, I see.” I nudged his foot with my stockinged one. “You’re making fun of me.”He gave me a lopsided smirk. “If you want, though, I’d be happy to help you come up with new angles.”“Maybe later.” I dug into my food. “Can’t miss Nightly News.”“Sadly,” Adam said, looking down at his dish, “with you that’s not a joke. You really would prefer news to sex.”“That’s not true.”“Oh yeah?”
