Authors: Whitney Gracia Williams
Tags: #mid life love, #mid life romance, #older heroine, #Alpha Male, #whitney gracia
“They had another little girl last year...They’ve
traveled all around the world together and done all the things I thought he and
I would be doing together at this point...He even took her to the Panama Canal,
where we were supposed to go...He said he would take me sailing there for our
fifteenth anniversary, but we never made it because...because...” She stopped and
shook her head.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Claire...”
I expected her to say more, to cry even, but she
simply buried her head in my chest and drifted into a deep sleep.
––––––––
I
felt Claire
nuzzling my chest and set my phone down.
“What time is
it?” she murmured.
“Nine fifteen.
Are you hungry? Would you like to get something to eat?”
“No. I’m okay.”
She moved out of my lap. “You can take me home now.”
I don’t think
so...
“What do you
normally do when you’re upset? What makes you feel better?”
“Home Depot...Or
more recently, sex with you.”
I laughed. “The
home improvement store? Why?”
“I can’t explain
it. One step inside that store and I just...All my problems go away for a while.
I get lost in the paint swatches, the tiles, the bathroom fixtures, and—
everything
.”
“Would you like
to go there now?”
“It closed at
nine o’ clock...” She frowned.
“That’s not what
I asked you.”
“Yes...If it were
possible, right now would be a perfect time to go.”
I picked up my
phone. “Hey, Corey? I need you to do me a favor.”
––––––––
“T
he manager
says you have two hours and he wants every item you take to be scanned on
register number one. He wants a
s
Tablet the day it comes out, and he’ll
send you the bill tomorrow.” Corey typed a few things onto his tablet and the
doors to Home Depot slid open.
Claire looked up
at me and smiled as she made her way into the store, leaving me standing alone
with Corey.
“Okay,
seriously...” Corey said once she was out of earshot. “Does she have any friends
who look
half
as good as she does? I need someone too, you know.”
“Watch it. I
thought you had a date tonight. What happened with that?”
“She was an
airhead
.
All she talked about was what type of clothes she wanted to wear to some
celebrity party in L.A...We did have sex in my car on the way back though—which
was
amazing
, but I don’t think I can sit through another dinner with
her. One was painful enough.”
“I’m sure you’ll
have someone else by tomorrow. Did you finish the Sorrento account?”
“Of course I
did. No thanks to you.” He laughed. “We now have the best security tracking
system I’ve ever seen. It’s been three days and I haven’t been able to hack
into it from the outside. That’s a pretty good sign.”
“Good to know.
Could you deactivate all the cameras in the store?”
“Ten steps ahead
of you.” He patted my shoulder and started stepping backwards. “The next time
you want to interrupt my favorite show, just so you can break into a hardware
store after-hours, please
hesitate
to let me know.”
I walked over to
where I saw Claire disappear to and spotted her on the ceiling fan aisle.
“Thank you so
much.” Her eyes met mine. “I only need to get a few things...I left my wallet at
home so I’ll pay you back for —”
“Get anything
you want. You should know that you don’t have to pay me back.”
Her eyes lit up.
“Anything I want?”
“Yes.” I kissed
her lips. “Anything you want.”
“Well, in that
case, we might be here for a while...”
––––––––
I
t was midnight
by the time she’d picked out everything she wanted, and we’d filled six carts
to capacity.
We were walking
around the small pond in the outdoor greenery area, holding hands and laughing
at the fish that were flopping across the surface.
“When do you
want to start scanning everything?” She looked up at me.
“Never. We’re
not scanning any of it. I’ll write the manager a check and cover all his
inventory losses at the end of the year.”
“Okay...Well, are
we going to start loading up your car? How many trips do you think it’ll—”
“It’s already
been taken care of.” I pulled her into my arms. “Don’t worry about it.” I
smiled as I slid a hand underneath her shirt. “You know, your creativity never
ceases to amaze me...”
“What are you
talking about?”
“Why do you like
wearing pantsuits all of sudden? You’ve been wearing them all week.”
She smirked. “No
reason. I haven’t put that much thought into it.” She tried to step away from
me, but I tightened my grip around her.
“Do you honestly
think wearing pantsuits will keep me from—”
“From fucking me
inside of Home Depot? I hope so.”
I unsnapped her
bra and kissed her neck. “It won’t.”
“Jonathan, there
are
cameras
! I’m—”
“Corey turned
them all off.” I pulled her down into a bed of grass. “My driver won’t be here
with the truck for another hour. That’s plenty of time, don’t you think?” I
reached down and unzipped her pants.
“Have I ever
told you that you’re ridiculously insatiable?”
“Only when it
comes to you.”
D
ear Journal,
I
wish there was a better way to screen potential employees for jobs, a better
way to see through people’s bullshit.
In
every interview, the candidate always says exactly what he’s supposed to say:
“My biggest weakness is trying to be a perfectionist all the time.” “I truly
believe I’m the best person for this job because I’m driven, I work hard, and
I’m always willing to go the extra mile.” “Oh no, I’ve never been late to work.
Ever
.”
During
his trial period, he’s the most exemplary candidate in the world—showing up
early every day, offering to buy all his coworkers coffee, and staying late on
every campaign assignment...But as soon as that ninety day trial period is up, he
becomes an ass. A complete and total ass.
We
hired a new regional director at the beginning of the year, to help us revive
our city billboard operations, and once he was “officially” in the position he
started acting like he was the CEO.
He
took over in all the meetings—talking over anyone who disagreed with him and
insisting that his ideas were “simply the best.” He began ordering my
associates around—treating them like crap, and badmouthing them at all our
directors’ seminars.
While
he was in the middle of saying how he couldn’t believe “how dimwitted and dumb”
they were—questioning how any of them had “ever managed to get through college
in the first place,” I let him have it.
I
told him that he was a fucking idiot and that the only reason we agreed to hire
him was because our first choice failed the drug test. (By the way, when did
employers start testing for
opium
? And where the hell do people
find
opium?!)
“And
yeah,” I said, “my associates may be dumb as rocks and they may not know a
goddamn thing about marketing, but they’re
my
associates and nobody can
talk bad about them but
me
!”
People these
days,
Claire
C
laire
It’s not real,
it’s not real...Breathe, Claire...Breathe...
I jumped out of
bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen. I opened a cabinet and grabbed a packet
of Tylenol, tossing the pills down my throat.
I flung the
refrigerator door open and reached for a bottle of water, downing it in one
gulp. I took out another one as soon as I finished.
This happened to
me every year—every. single. year. Every time my wedding anniversary rolled
around.
I shut my eyes
and tried to calm myself down from the nightmare I’d just had—the one that
featured my husband running off with my best friend, the one that featured her
getting pregnant with his baby. But, once I opened my eyes and looked around,
once I saw that
my
kitchen was not
our
kitchen, I realized that
it wasn’t a nightmare after all.
I sank down to
the floor and sighed, trying to make myself think of something else—anything
else, but another ugly memory forced itself across my mind...
––––––––
I
t was weeks
after the hurtful revelation, and Amanda hadn’t called or texted me to say that
she was sorry. She hadn’t said a word about her part in the affair to any of
our mutual friends.
Nada. Zilch.
Nothing
.
I walked into
our neighborhood grocery store—puffy eyed, drained, and ugly, and spotted her
in a wrinkled red sundress. I saw her turning down the very aisle I needed:
Specialty ice cream.
I knew she was
going to pick out our favorite mint chocolate chip brand and cry just like I’d
planned to, but we weren’t going to be crying together this time.
We were going to
be crying separately, over the same situation that had broken us in two very
different ways.
I followed her
down the aisle and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yes? May I—”
She dropped the carton to the floor as soon as her swollen eyes met mine.
There was
silence as we looked at one another, as we searched for something to say about
a situation best friends should never have to go through.
I tried to
control my anger, tried to step back and take a slow deep breath, but it didn’t
work. I drew my hand back and slapped the shit out of her.
She gasped and
reached up to touch her cheek. The fact that I almost felt sorry for her made
me want to vomit.
“I deserved
that...” she whispered.
“
No shit
.”
“I am...I am so
so
sorry, Claire.” Her voice cracked. She uncovered her cheek and I saw the
beautiful red imprint of my hand. “I never ever wanted to hurt you...I wanted to
call you and say something but...I already know you’ll never forgive me for
what’s happened...If I could take everything back, I swear I would. I didn’t
realize that—”
“That I was
married
?
That you were the maid of honor at my wedding? That you helped me shop for an
anniversary present every year? What exactly didn’t you realize?”
“I didn’t think
our feelings were—”
“
Real
?
Genuine? Worth mentioning
before
I tied the knot? As much as it would’ve
hurt me, Amanda—as much as I would’ve cried over it—if you had just said, ‘Hey.
I have feelings for Ryan and he has feelings for me too,’
before
we got
married, hell before we got
engaged
this would’ve...” I couldn’t hold back
my tears. “Do you even realize how fucked up this all is? This isn’t some
goddamn romance book on your shelf, Amanda! This is my fucking
life
!”
“I really am
sorry...I—”
“When the fuck
were you going to tell me?” I wanted to slap her again. “Huh? When the baby was
born? When he turned
two
? At one point did you and Ryan think about
letting your spouses in on this twisted ass joke?”
“Listen to—”
“Answer the
goddamn question!”
She sighed. “We
never discussed that...”
“Of course you
didn’t...I guess fucking each other all the time was conversation enough.” I
moved past her and took two cartons of mint chocolate chip from the fridge.
“Claire,
wait
...I’ll
always hate myself for—”
“That makes two
of us. We’ve always shared the same enemies.”
“I can’t say how
sorr—”
“The only reason
I’m not stomping the living shit out of you right now is because you’re
carrying a baby—my
ex-husband’s
baby. But the more I stand here looking
at how pathetic you are, I’m tempted to disregard that fact because you’re not
really sorry, Amanda. You’re only sorry because you got caught. And you’re
right, I will
never
forgive you.”
––––––––
I
swallowed one
more Tylenol pill and washed it down. I looked at my watch and realized it was
noon.
I can’t waste my
whole weekend thinking about this... I need to do something...
I walked over to
the pantry and saw that there was nothing inside but a box of cereal and a jar
of unopened peanut butter.
Problem solved...
––––––––
I
stood in front
of the meat freezer at Whole Foods, debating whether I should buy two or three
packages of chicken. Since Ashley had recently given up her “vegan-status,” she
and Caroline were on some type of “all-protein” fix and they’d been eating meat
like crazy.
For the past few
nights, I’d witnessed them scarf down grilled ham sandwiches, burritos, and
turkey burgers like their lives depended on it.
I decided to go
with three and headed for the register.
As usual, there
were only two cashiers working, and since it was Saturday—the day
everyone
else
did their shopping, I prepared myself for a long wait in line.
I picked up a
copy of
Cosmopolitan
magazine and skimmed through the pages, trying not
to laugh at the ridiculous article titles: “The Number One Thing He Craves in
Bed Tonight...” “How to Break the Three Date Rule,” and “Two Hundred Sex Tricks
That Will
Make
Him Love You.”
I turned to
another page and saw an article entitled, “For ANY Relationship: How to Keep
Things Spicy.” I read the first paragraph and rolled my eyes, but I kept
reading:
“The key to any
relationship—whether you’re young or a little more mature in age—is
not
communication!
(Well, that IS important but we’ll get to that later.) The key is
variety
—within
your date nights, within your displays of affection, and within your bedroom.
“Since this is
Cosmo
,
we’re going to focus on key number three! Your bedroom!
“Sex should
never be the same thing day in and day out. It should be spontaneous,
passionate, and so amazingly good that you
and
your guy think about it
for days after. (If you’re not already having sex again that is...)
“Our senior
editors decided to take the plunge for you, interviewing over a thousand men
for this feature. They asked each of them what they liked most about the women
they’ve dated, what turns them on, and most importantly how important variety
is to a relationship.
“Feel free to
read exclusive interviews on the next page, but for now, we’re going to give
you a list of tips to automatically boost your sex life and add some much
needed variety!
“1.
Sexting
!
Sexting is a—”
I couldn’t read
anymore. I reached for something safer—Oprah’s
O
magazine, and searched
for her most recent book club picks.
I moved up two
spaces in line and cursed under my breath. There was an elderly couple arguing
with the cashier about a stack of coupons.
“Excuse me?” A
blonde tapped my shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Could you pass
me a copy of
Cosmo
please?”
“Sure.” I picked
one up and handed it to her.
“You know, a lot
of it
is
crazy but some of this stuff actually works on my husband.” She
laughed and walked away.
She’s got to be
kidding me...
I pulled
Cosmo
off the rack again and read the rest of the article:
“1.
Sexting
!
Sexting is a great way to spice up any relationship! Now, if you’ve never done
it before, you may want to start off with a regular text conversation to make
sure that he’s near his phone and it won’t be seen by anyone else.
“Once you’ve
committed to sexting, you should simply text your guy something simple,
something like “I’m sooo horny” and then say something short and naughty right
after. For example: “I’m sooo horny. I wish you could see what I have on right
now.”
“Once your guy
sees the text, he’ll
definitely
text you something naughty back. Don’t
let it die down after this! Continue engaging him in sexy banter all day.
“The next time
you two are together, he’ll be reminded of your messages and want to live out
everything the both of you ‘sexted’ about.
“Trust us,
nearly every guy we interviewed said engaging in sexting was one of the best
things that—”
“These are
supposed to be double coupons!” “We are
not
paying an extra
dollar!” “Where is the manager?” The elderly couple ahead interrupted my
reading.
I sighed. I
figured I might as well try to have some fun while I waited in line.
I pulled my
phone out and sent Jonathan a text:
“I’m sooo horny. I can’t wait to ride
your dick again...”
I found my place
in the article once more and started reading about points two and three:
Homemade sex tapes and weekend sex retreats.
My phone started
ringing and I answered without looking at the screen. I was too wrapped up in
reading about the benefits of using flavored condoms.
“Hello?”
“If you want to
ride my dick that badly, you don’t have to wait. Where are you?”
Jonathan?!
“You’re
supposed to
text
back! Not call me! Why can’t you just text back like a
normal—”
“
Where. Are.
You
?”
My body tingled
from the sound of his voice. “I’m at Whole Foods...”
“Which one?”
“The one on
Fourth Street...”
“I’ll be there
in ten minutes. Go to your car and get in the back seat.” He hung up.
Ugh. Fuck Cosmo...
They clearly didn’t interview any “Jonathan Statham” types...
“Ma’am? Ma’am?”
The cashier looked at me. “You can start unloading your cart now...”
“Um, actually...I
need to get something else...”
I pushed my cart
out of line and parked it in the soft drinks aisle. I headed to the restroom
and looked myself over: Pink collared shirt, light blue jeans, slightly tousled
hair.
My cheeks were
bright red and my body was aching—
longing
to be touched; I had to
silently scold myself to calm down.
Am I really this
insatiable? Am I as bad as he is?
I took a deep
breath and walked out, taking my time to get through the store and into the
parking lot. I found my car and fumbled around in my purse for the keys,
dropping them to the ground.
I bent down to
pick them up, but Jonathan grabbed them before I could.
“Good afternoon,
Claire,” he whispered against my neck, setting my nerves on fire.
“Hi...”
He kept the keys
in his hand and unlocked the back door. “You first.”
I stepped inside
and scooted over to the window. He stepped in after me and shut the door.
I looked away,
but he reached over and tilted my face towards him. I was literally trembling
in anticipation, wondering when he would start ripping my clothes off.
Instead, he
simply looked into my eyes, tracing his fingertips along my jawline—along my
lips. Without breaking gaze with me, he slid closer and gently dragged my
headband away from my hair. He tossed it towards the front seat and cupped my
face in his hands, still staring into my eyes, making me wet while barely
touching me.
“What made you
text me that today?” he asked, dropping his hands to unbutton my jeans.
“I was trying to
do the sexting thing...”
“The
sexting
thing
?” He pushed my pants down.
“Yes. You were
supposed to
text
me back. Then, we were supposed to send sexy messages
back and forth all day so—”
“I don’t do
sexting.” He unbuckled his belt and slid out of his pants.
“Why not?”
“I prefer to
bypass the bullshit.” He laid me across the seat and tugged my pants to my
ankles. “What were the exact words of your text again?”
“Pull out your
phone and look it up.”
“
Excuse me
?”
“I didn’t
stutter...”
“Neither did I.”
He raised his eyebrow. “I’m only going to ask you
one more time
.”
“Good, because
I’m going to give you the
exact same answer
.”
He smiled as he
slid my shirt over my head. “You make things so fucking difficult sometimes. We
need to work on changing that.” He flipped me over on my stomach before I could
say something back.
“
Ahhhh
...”
I felt him giving my ass a soft slap and snapping my bra off.
My breath caught
in my throat once I felt him tying my hands behind my back with his belt, once
I heard him unwrapping a condom.
“Do you get some
type of pleasure out of being difficult?” He slipped two fingers inside of me.
“No...”
“Are you sure?”
He tightened the belt around my wrists. “You sure you don’t
enjoy
it?”