Everything She Wants

"So what do you think?" I held up a frilly lace camisole for inspection. "The blue or the purple?"

"Neither." My roommate, Jacinda Crane-Laird, grabbed a skimpy lace bra off the shelf at Smoulder, an upscale lingerie shop on West Hollywood's Melrose Avenue. "You want black. Black bra, black garter belt, black seamed stockings, black stilettos."

"Settle down there, Lolita." Coelle Banerjee, gorgeous half-Indian/half-Italian/All-American teen soap star and roommate number two, shook her head at Jacinda. "She's an eighteen-year-old virgin, not a Pussycat Doll."

"My point exactly." Jacinda looked around for an appropriately seductive ensemble. "If you ever want to lose that shameful status, you'd better start thinking -- and acting -- like a woman of the world." She snatched up a shiny black leather thong and steered me toward the dressing room. "Try this on. Danny will love it."

I dug my heels into the carpet. "I am not wearing leather underwear."

"You are so boring and puritanical. You know what you need?"

"A new roommate who's not a total perv?"

"No. You need to get laid."