Georgina’s client, Suzanne, waited at a bar on West Tenth called Casa Amici. A few minutes earlier, she’d sent Georgina a text message: I ordered you a cocktail but I drank it. Where are you???

Inside, the air was hot and thick. Georgina hung her scarf and coat on the communal hooks and pushed through crowded patrons until she spotted Suzanne in a bright purple pantsuit with an empty barstool beside her. “It’s taken!” Suzanne barked at a hopeful twenty-something in over-the-knee boots.

When she got close enough, Georgina touched her shoulder. “I am so, so sorry.”

Suzanne looked up from her phone. “I could fire you for this,” she said, but thankfully she was smiling.

“You will not believe what happened.” Georgina sat and pointed to Suzanne’s drink. “Can I have a sip of that?”

Suzanne nudged it closer. “Have it. I’ve got another one coming.” “We’ve got this insane case going on. Everyone’s working around the clock. And I wanted to cheer up the associates after they had to cancel their Friday night plans, so I ordered them cannoli from Angelo’s in Little Italy—” She swigged what turned out to be a strong margarita. “Thanks, I needed that. Anyway, they all got food poisoning. How long have you been waiting?”

“Only fifteen minutes. How sick are we talking?”

Georgina grimaced. “Someone threw up in the copy room.”

“Yeesh. I hope you’ve got a good carpet cleaner.”

“I’m more worried about a good lawyer.”

“I think you’ve got a few of those around,” Suzanne said. “Isn’t that why you charge the big bucks?”

Georgina arranged her face into an innocent mask, as though she had no idea she billed Suzanne hundreds of dollars per hour to defend her chain of jewelry stores accused again and again of ripping off Yurman, Gucci, and other top-tier designers.

The bar was packed and loud. When Georgina said, “Tell me what’s new,” Suzanne didn’t hesitate to shout, “Philip and I started swinging!” and a few people nearby turned around with curious amusement.

“I swear to God,” she went on, possibly unaware of her eavesdroppers but more likely enjoying them, “it’s the best thing that ever happened to us. We should have done this from day one.”

“You’re not serious.” Georgina pictured swingers more like a fringe group of radicals and Freudian fetishists in leather straps and purple lipstick, but Suzanne wore J.Jill! Women in sensible heels couldn’t be swingers, could they?

“Dead serious,” Suzanne said. “If I saw one more of Philip’s shavings in the bathroom sink, I was going to push him out the window. We hadn’t had sex in two years. Years, Georgina. YEARS. Now we’re like horny teenagers at prom. Our relationship is better than when we first started dating.”

Georgina sipped her margarita. “To be clear, by swinging, you mean—”

“We get together with a small group of friends, have a few drinks, pair up, and screw each other into marital bliss.”

“Why not try therapy?”

“We did. We tried everything. We went skydiving—nothing like a near-death experience to bond you for life, right? You know what’s a real bonding experience?” Suzanne attempted to wink, but both of her eyes closed, one only managing to squint slightly more than the other. “F***ing the neighbors.”

Georgina had to laugh. She was fond of Suzanne and reveled in her outrageous gossip a lot more than she’d let on. Hanging out with her was like smoking cigarettes behind the gym with a cool senior, if the senior wore pearl earrings and a satin headband. “Isn’t that awkward when you see him taking out the trash?”

Suzanne made sultry eyes. “It turns trash duty into foreplay.” “Have you tried scheduling sex?” Georgina asked. “My best friend said couples should put an hour for sex at least twice a week into their calendars. Just don’t put it on the office-wide one.”

“Scheduling sex kills the chase,” Suzanne said. “Swinging invites the chase to your house for cocktails.”

Georgina laughed again, but it rang out a little frenetic. She cleared her throat. “Don’t you worry sleeping with other people will make things worse?”

“We’re not sleeping together,” Suzanne said. “You make it sound like an affair. Swinging is a mutually beneficial arrangement. And no—swinging has accomplished in one month what a lifetime of counseling never could have.”

“It just sounds so . . . counterproductive,” Georgina said. “Sex with other people is the number one thing to avoid in my book.”

Suzanne shrugged. “I don’t know what else to tell you. You need to trust me on this one. Philip is downright romantic these days. This morning, we had sex in the shower before work. When’s the last time you did that?”

A small frown possessed Georgina’s face as she thought about Swiffering the kitchen, which she’d done more recently than she’d had sex with Nathan. Was it Sunday? No, Friday. Or maybe Thursday. Whatever day it was, it happened after two Seinfeld reruns, and Georgina never took her sweatshirt off. “I wish I could remember.”

“Honestly, you need to try this,” Suzanne said. “It’s life-changing.”

Georgina laughed. “You’re my client! If I were bad in bed, that would definitely be bad for business.”

“I’m not the only swinger in New York City.” Suzanne lifted her eyebrows until they disappeared under her bangs. “Let’s just say there’s a certain very short, very rich man whose schlong is about as long as he is.”

“Well, now I’m intrigued,” Georgina said. “But Nathan and I are doing fine. I haven’t considered pushing him out a window once, I swear.”

Suzanne fixed her with a cheeky look. “You’re missing the point. We’re not swinging to let other people into our marriage. We’re swinging to keep them out. It’s prophylactic. It’s like . . . a divorce condom. Swingers divorce at significantly lower rates than monogamous couples. I’m not making that up. You think I didn’t do my re- search? Google it.”

A soap-opera-star-looking bartender dropped off a plate of crostini and a bowl of olives. The way Suzanne was eyeing him, Georgina thought Suzanne might invite him to her next party.

“Not that I’m hoping your marriage goes south,” she went on, “but

if it does, you know who to call. Are you game for one more?” Without waiting for her answer, Suzanne ordered another round. Georgina was going to say yes anyway.

Published by arrangement with Anchor Books, an imprint of The Knopf Doubleday Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC

the lifestyle taylor hahn swingers novel

The Lifestyle is available from Amazon and Bookshop.

Read Taylor Hahn’s guest post about how writing The Lifestyle opened her mind about swinging.

Hear Taylor Hahn speak on Saturday, February 11, 2023 at the Residence 11 Desire Summit on Sex and Relationships in Los Angeles and livestreaming worldwide. Get tickets here.