The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang (Chapter Sampler)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

First published in Australia and New Zealand by Allen & Unwin in 2018 First published in the United States by Berkley, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC in 2018 Copyright © 2018 by by Helen Hoang Published by arrangement with Berkley, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher publ isher.. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.  Allen & Unwin 83 Alexander Street Crows Nest NSW 2065  Australia Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100 0100 Email: [email protected] Web: www.allenandunwin.com  A catalogue catalogu e record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia ISBN 978 1 76052 794 5 Internal design by Kristin del Rosario Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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know you hate surprises, Stella. In the interests o communicating our expectations and providing you a reasonable timeline,  you should should know know we’re we’re ready ready or grandchildren.” grandchildren.” Stella Lane’s gaze jumped from her breakfast up to her mother’s gracefully gracefu lly aging ag ing face. A subtle application application of makeup makeup drew attention attention to battle-ready, battle-ready, coffee-colored coffee-colored eyes. Tat boded ill for Stella. When her mother got something into her mind, she was like a honey badger with a vendetta— pugnacious and tenacious, but withou withoutt the snarling and fur. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Stella said. Shock gave way to rapid-�re, rapid- �re, panic-scrambled thoughts. Grandchildren meant babies. And diapers. Mountains of diapers. Exploding diapers. And babies cried, soul-grating soul- grating banshee wails that even the best sound-canceling sound-canceling headphones couldn’t buffer. How did they cry so long and hard when they were so little? Plus, babies meant husbands. Husbands meant boyfriends. Boyfriends meant dating. Dating meant  sex . She shuddered.

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“You’re thirty, Stella dear. We’re concerned that you’re still single. Have you tried inder?” She grabbed her water and gulped down a mouthul, accidentally swallowing an ice cube. Afer clearing her throat, she said, “No. I haven’t tried it.” Te very thought o inder—and inder— and the corresponding dating it aimed to deliver—caused deliver— caused her to break out in a sweat. She hated everything about dating: the departure rom her comortable routine, the conversation that was by turns inane and baffling, and again, the sex  . . . . “I’ve been offered a promotion,” she said, hoping it would distract her mother. “Another one?” her ather asked, lowering his copy o the Wall Street Journal  so  so his wirew ire-ramed ramed glasses were visible. “You were just  promote  pro motedd two quarters ago. Tat’s Tat’s phenom phenomenal.” enal.” Stella perked up and scooted to the edge o her seat. “Our newest client—aa large online vendor who shall remain nameless— pro client— nameless— provided vided the most amazing datasets, and I get to play with them all day. I designed an algorithm a lgorithm to help with some some o their purchase suggestions. Apparently, it’s working better than expected.” “When is the new promotion effective?” her ather asked. “ W  Well ell . . .” Te hollandaise and egg yolk rom her crabcakes Benedict had run together, and she attempted to separate the yellow liquids with the tip o her ork. “I didn’t accept the promotion. It was a principal econometrician position that would have had �ve direct reports beneath me and require much more client interaction. I just want to work on the data.” Her mother batted that statement away away with a negl negligent igent wave o her hand. “You’re getting complacent, Stella. I you stop challenging yoursel, you’re not going to make any more improvement with

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 your social skills. skills . Tat reminds me, are there there any cowo coworkers rkers at at your company who you’d like to date?” Her ather set his newspaper down and olded his hands over his rounded belly. “Yes, what about that one ellow, Philip James?  When we met him at your last com company pany get get-- together, he seemed nice enough.” Her mother’s hands �uttered to her mouth like pigeons homing in on bread crumbs. “Oh, why didn’t I think o him? He was so  polite. And easy on the the eyes, too.” too.” “He’s okay, I guess.” Stella ran her �ngertips over the condensation on her water glass. o be honest, she’d considered Philip. He  was con conceit ceited ed and abrasiv abrasive, e, but he was a direct speaker. She really liked that t hat in people. “I think thin k he has several personality personality disorde disorders. rs.”” Her mother mother patted Stella’ Stel la’ss hand. Instead o putting it back ba ck in her lap when she was done, she rested it over Stella’s knuckles. “Maybe he’ll be a good match or you, then, dear. With issues o his own to overcome, he might be more understanding o your Asperger’s.” Tough the words were spoken in a matter-o-act tone, they sounded unnatural and loud to Stella’s ears. A quick glance at the neighboring tables in the restaurant’s canopied outdoor dining area reassured her that no one had heard, and she stared down at the hand on top o hers, consciously reraining rom yanking it away. Uninvited touches irritated her, and her mother knew it. She did it to “acclimate” her. Mostly, it drove Stella crazy. Was it possible Philip could understand that? “I’llll think “I’ th ink about him,” Stella said, and meant it. She hated hated lying and prevaricating even more than she hated sex. And, at the end o the day, she wanted to make her mother proud and happy. No matter what Stella did, she was always a ew steps short o being successul in her mother’s eyes and thereore her own, too. A boyriend

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 would do do that, she knew. knew. Te problem problem was she she couldn’ couldn’t keep a man or the lie o her. Her mother beamed. “Excellent. Te next bene�t dinner I’m arranging is in a couple months, and I want you to bring a date this time. I’d love to see Mr. James attending with you, but i that doesn’t work out, I’ll �nd someone.” Stella thinned her lips. Her latest sexual experience had been  with one one o her moth mother’ er’ss blind dates. He’d He’d been goodgood- looking— looking—she she had to give him that—but that— but his sense o humor had conused her.  With him being a ven venture ture capi capitalist talist and her being an econ economist, omist, they should have had a lot in common, but he hadn’t hadn’t wanted to talk ta lk aboutt his actual work. Instead, abou I nstead, he’d preerred to discuss office politics and manipulation tactics, leaving her so lost she’d been certain certa in the date was a ailure.  When he’d he’d straightstraight-ou outt asked her her i she she wanted wanted to hav havee sex with him, she’d been caught completely off guard. Because she hated to say no, she’d said yes. Tere’d been kissing, which she didn’t enjoy. He’d tasted like l ike the lamb he’d had or dinner. d inner. She She didn’t didn’t like li ke lamb. His cologne had nauseated her, and he’d touched her all over. As it always did in intimate situations, her body had locked down. Beore she knew it, he’d �nished. He’d discarded his used condom in the trash can next to the hotel room’s desk—that desk— that had bothered her; surely he should know things like that went in the bathroom?— told her she needed to loosen up, and lef. She could only imagine how disappointed her mother would be i she knew what a disaster her daughter was with men. And now her mother wanted babies, too. Stella got to her eet and gathered her purse. “I need to go to  workk now  wor now.” While Whi le she she was ahead on on all her deadlines, need  was  was still the right word or it. Work ascinated her, channeled the urious craving in her brain. It was also therapeutic.

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“Tat’s my girl,” her ather said, standing up and brushing off his silk Hawaiian shirt beore hugging her. “You’re going to own that place beore long.” As she gave him a quick hug—she hug— she didn’t mind touching when she initiated it or had time to mentally prepare or it— she breathed in the amilia a miliarr scent o his afershave. Why couldn’ couldn’t all al l men be just like her ather? He thought thought she was beautiul and brilliant, brill iant, and his smell didn’t make her sick. “You know her work is an unhealthy obsession, Edward. Don’t encourage her,” her mother said beore she switched her attention to Stella and heaved a maternal sigh. “You should be out with peo ple on the weeke weekend. nd. I you met mor moree men, I know you you’d ’d �nd the right one.” Her ather pressed a cool kiss to her temple and whispered, “I  wish I were were working working,, too.” too.” Stella shook her head at him as her mother embraced her. Te ropes o her mother’s ever- prese ever- present nt pearls pressed into Stella’ Stella’ss ster ster-num, and Chanel No. 5 swirled around her. She tolerated the cloying scent or three long seconds beore stepping back. “I’ll see you both next weekend. I love you. Bye.” She waved at her parents beore exiting the t he ritzy downtown Palo Alto restaurant and walked down sidewalks lined with trees and upscale shops. Afer A fer three sunny su nny blocks, she reached a lowlow- rise office building that housed her avorite place in the world: her office. Te lef corner window on the third �oor belonged to her. Te lock on the ront door clicked open when she held her purse up to the sensor, and she strode into the empty building, enjoying the solitary echo o her high heels on the marble as she passed the  vacant receptio reception n desk and stepped stepped into into the elevat elevator. or. Inside her office, she initiated her most beloved routine. First, she powered on her computer and entered her password into the

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 prompt screen. As all the sofware booted up, she plo  prompt plopped pped her her purse in her desk drawer and went to �ll her cup with water rom the kitchen. Her shoes came off, and she placed them in their regular spot under her desk. She sat. Power, password, purse, water, shoes, sit. Always this order. Statistics Analysis System, otherwise known as SAS, automatically loaded, and the three monitors on her desk �lled with streams o data. Purchases, clicks, log-in times, payment types— simple things, really. But they told her more about people than  peoplee themselv  peopl themselves es ever did. She stretc stretched hed out her �ngers and set them on the black ergonomic keyboard, eager to lose hersel in her work. “Oh hi, Stella, I thought it might be you.” She looked over her shoulder and was jarred by the unwelcome  view o Philip Philip James peering around the the door rame. Te severe severe cut cut o his tawny hair emphasized his square jaw, and his polo shirt was tight across his chest. He looked resh, sophisticated, and smart—  precisely  precise ly the kind o man her paren parents ts wanted or her her.. And he’d caught her working or pleasure on the weekend. Her ace heated, and she pushed her glasses up the bridge o her nose. “What are you doing here?” “I had to pick up something somethi ng that I orgot yesterday.” yesterday.” He extracted extrac ted a box rom a shopping bag and waved it at her. Stella caught sight o the word TROJAN  in  in giant capital letters. “Have a nice weekend. I know I will.” Breakast with her parents raced through her mind. Grandchildren, Philip, the prospect o more more blind dates, being successul.  anything  g . “Did you She licked her lips and hurried to say something,  anythin really need an economy-sized economy- sized box o those?” As soon as the words lef her mouth, she winced. He smirked his assholest smirk, but its annoyingness was sof-

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ened by a show o strong white teeth. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to need hal hal  o these tonight tonig ht since the boss’s new intern asked me out.” Stella was impressed despite hersel. Te new girl looked so shy.  Who would hav havee thought she was was so gutsy? “For “For dinner?” “And more, I think, think ,” he said with a twink t winkle le in his hazel haz el eyes. “Why did you wait or her to ask you out? Why didn’t you ask her �rst?” She’d gotten the impression men liked to be initiators in matters like these. Was she wrong?  With impati impatient ent moti motions, ons, Philip Philip stuffed an entire entire militia o o roro jans back in his shop shopping ping bag. “She’ “She’ss resh ou outt o undergrad. I didn’ didn’tt  want to get accused accused o o cradle robb robbing. ing. Besides, Besides, I like girls who who know know  what they want want and go or or it . . . especially in bed.” He swept swept an ap praising gaze rom her eet to her ace, smiling like he could see through her clothes, and she stiffened with sel- consciousness. “ “ ell me, are you still a virgin, Stella?” She turned back to her computer screens, but the data reused to make sense. Te cursor on the programming screen blinked. “It’s none o your business, but no, I’m not a virgin.” He walked into her office, leaned a hip against her desk, and considered her in a skeptical manner. She adjusted her glasses even though they didn’t need it. “So our star econometrician has ‘done it’ beore. How many times? Tree?” No way was she going to tell him he’d guessed correctly. “None o your business, Philip.” “I bet you just lie there and run linear recursions in your head  while a man does his business. business. Am I right, Ms. Lane?” Stella would totally do that i she could �gure out how to input gigabytes o data into her brain, brain, but she’d rather die than admit it. “A word o advice rom a man who’s been around the block a ew times: Get some practice. When you’re good at it, you like it better, and when you like it better, men like  you better.” He pushed

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away rom the desk and headed or the door, his bag o condoms swinging jauntily at his side. “Enjoy your endless week.” As soon as he lef, Stella stood up and shoved her door shut, using more orce than was necessary. Te door slammed with a hard,  vibrating bang, and her heart heart stuttered. She She smoothed smoothed damp hands over her pencil skirt as she brought her breathing back under control. When she sat down at her desk, she was too jittery to do more than stare at the blinking cursor.  Was  W as Philip right? Did sh shee dislike sex becau because se she was bad at it?  Would  W ould pract practice ice really make perect perect?? What a beguili beguiling ng con concept. cept. Maybe sex was just another interpersonal thing she needed to exert extra efforts on— on—like like casual con conversati versation, on, eye contact, and etiquette. But how exactly did you practice sex? It wasn’t like men were throwing themselves at her like women apparently did to Philip.  When she she did manage to sleep sleep with a man, he was so put off by the lackluster experience that once was more than enough or both o them. Also, this was Silicon Valley, the kingdom o tech geniuses and scientists. Te single men available were probably as hopeless in bed as she was. With her her luck, she’d sleep with a statistically signi�cant sig ni�cant  population  populati on o them and have have nothing to show show or it but crot crotch ch burn burn and SDs. No, what Stella needed was a proessional. Not only were they certi�ed disease- ree, but they had proven track records. At least, she assumed so. Tat was how she’d run thingss i she were in that business. thing business. Regular Reg ular men were incentivized incentivized by things like personality, humor, and hot sex— things she didn’t have. Proessionals were incentivized by money. Stella happened to have a lot o money. Instead o working on her shiny new dataset, Stella opened up her browser browser and Googled “Caliornia Bay Area male escort service. serv ice.””