"I'm not proud of it"

(Thanks to Stormcrow for the suggestions here)

Matt hung his head and tried to look ashamed. "I'm not proud of it, and I don't call it porn, I call it erotica. But yeah, that's what we're doing. I guess you could say that that's part of our niche."

Mrs. Fellers shook her head and Matt was certain she'd soon be shaking her ass out the door. Instead, she sat down... not next to him but across from him. Slowly she crossed, then uncrossed her legs.

She had, as he'd noticed before, a really nice figure and she had to notice that he could hardly keep his tongue in his mouth when she did that so she had to be doing it for a reason although he couldn't, for the life of him, imagine what it might be. Why didn't she just throw wine on him, tell him that he was one of those disgusting commies that were destroying America, and call her FBI buddies to have him arrested?

"They say," Mrs. Fellers said, "that every marketing campaign is ultimately selling sex. Want to sell razorblades? Show the hot girl rubbing the smooth face. Want to sell chewing gum? Put a sexy set of twins out so guys can fantasize about threesomes. Want to sell cars... well, you get the message. The thing is, effective marketing isn't about the sex itself, it's about the promise of sex. The problem with porn isn't that it promises sex, it's that it actually delivers it. Who wants to watch guys squirting their jism over bored women? It's the promise, the fantasy, that has real power."

Matt nodded. He could see that. He could also see that Mrs. Fellers hadn't, yet at least, made her move toward the door. "I get where you're coming from," he admitted. "I hadn't thought about it quite that way but I've been doing some of that... although not as well as if I'd really thought things through so clearly."

"That's why you need a mentor. Someone who can **** you to take a step back from day to day management and make you look at the bigger picture. I had this problem with my husband when he started his business. He was always running, always fighting fires, always doing what had to be done without looking for what he could do that would change the ballgame."

"Wow, you're right. The thing is, I don't really know anyone who--"

"You mean you didn't know anyone. Now you know me."

"But--" he licked his lips. "You hardly know me. Why would you want to waste your time on someone who is just getting started when you've already created a successful business."

"You're right, I did create a successful business. And look what it got me. A bottle of cheap wine at an art show, Matthew, that's what it got me."

"Why wouldn't your husband want to keep using your ideas and insights?"

"Why indeed? Because he's a man who feels threated by women with brains." She stood and walked over to him. "Are you threatened by women with brains, Matthew?"

"No."

He was threatened by women with guns but that was different.

"Then maybe we can work together. There is just one thing, though."

Uh-oh. It seemed there was always just one thing. What was it this time?

"Uh, what thing?"