Epilogue
I don't want to leave you with the impression that I'm hostile about things-I'm not. The thing with Mr. Baljoni was a long time coming, and was a way of getting my therapeutic kicks in at him for exploiting me for so long-he even found a way to work that original centerfold (the only one he still has rights to) onto his New Year's cover last year, mixed in with a lot of other such centerfolds, thankfully. But as my growing feminine awareness has grown, I have felt it a duty to tell that story the way it was.
I bear no grudges otherwise. A new book of my photos came out last fall, outselling the first one. I'm still busy as hell doing ads, magazine layouts . . . you name it.
I've had a full, rich life and I'm only thirty. Marriage? I really wonder. Paul and I have a beautiful relationship, but we're afraid that marriage would spoil it. We're both married to our careers in a sense, and I'm fearful that we would have a lot of trouble fitting two large egos like ours into a marriage contract. We'll see. As for now, we get it on whenever possible, our schedules keeping us apart quite a bit.
We both make it with other people when we're apart, an agreement we've come to since we're both slightly oversexed. Actually, it would be hard for me to imagine an ideal situation, come to think of it. I've already been living it, give or take a few knocks from reality, for so long it feels like it could go on this way forever.
But it won't.