by CELENE CAREY
We got married when I was nineteen and he was twenty-six. I really hadn’t experienced much. Actually, I had nothing more exciting than a kiss before him. Paul was the man who took my virginity and he was all I knew. My mind has never strayed before and my eyes have never strayed before. Yeah, I’m sexually frustrated, but I only want Paul to get his groove back and this gal will be fine.
“But will he ever?” I wondered as I sighed a deep heaving sigh, feeling depressed, tired of pretending that my marriage was perfect. Tired of friends asking “Hey, how’s Paul?” or “Hey, how’s your husband doing?” The truth is I don’t know how the hell he’s doing. When was the last time we really talked? He never has the time. I always force a smile and answer “He’s doing lovely!”
I’m was so frustrated, out of gas, out of patience, and out of this world. I needed to get some and get some soon or I might jump my desk.
I rested my coffee on the metal cabinet beside the copier and organized the pictures to drop in the side pocket of the copier. I saw Jessica’s redhead looked up from her desk. Her hair was the color of a ball of fire- that vivid hue of orange. She made a quick glance across her desk at Kelly; she had her head buried in the computer’s flat screen in front of her. Jessica then locked her eyes into mine and somehow her bright blue eyes gazing into mine with that innocent smile underneath produced a faint smile on my face, even through my depression. I hoped she was enjoying her work experience here, she is really was a helpful intern.
Well, I had more work to put on her desk, just in case she got bored. Maybe she knew this pile of copies I was making were for her because she stood from her desk and headed towards me with a side-swept smile. Kelly brushed a thin rope of her blonde hair off the top rim of her glasses. Her nerdy eyes peered over her glasses as if she was spying and pretending to work at the same time.
As she walked over and her hips swayed, the only thought that came to my mind was that I’ve never seen Jessica wear a skirt. She’s always in those executive pants and long-sleeved button ups. She always wore her shirts unbuttoned down to the second button. Her breasts were small and perky and wide spaced, kinda hot. Maybe if I weren’t married I would dress as alluring as she did. It seemed her bra was thin; I could see the round heads of her nipples imprinting against the fabric of her blouse from all the way over here. Maybe she just had huge nipples. Why the hell am I here thinking about Jessica’s tits, her bra? I mentally shook my thoughts away. Jessica’s smile brightened as she got closer.
For a paralegal intern she had a pretty young face; she looked as if she were about nineteen and I wondered what her age really was. I curled my fingers around the huge handle of my coffee mug, took it off the cabinet, rested the warm bottom in the palm of my other hand, brought the steamy cup to my face, and took a slurpy swig from it as the working Xerox’s back and forth mechanical sound got noisier.
By the time Jessica had reached the machine I had taken three sips and the machine had spat out all forty-something copies into the tray at the other end of the machine. I carefully placed the mug back on the cabinet.
“You saved me a trip,” I said to Jessica as I handed her the copies of the pictures.
“I guess you owe me one,” she joked. She took the copies out of my hand as I was retrieving the originals at the other end.
“Sooo, what are these?” Her presence felt strong and take-charge as usual.
“Pictures of Mr. Carter cheating on his wife. That bastard.”
Jessica looked at me in pieces of shock as I rightfully called him what he was. Maybe she had never heard me use curse words before. I was more of the prim type, usually.
“Hmm . . .,” she replied, shoving my opinion of him to the side, and, without looking at the pictures, said, “Well, everybody cheats at some time or another. Not my place to call others names for that.”
“Not everybody, Jessica,” I differed.
“Jessie, just call me Jessie. And everybody does, Mrs. Squire, it’s only human to cheat.”
“Well, I guess I’m not a human.”
“What are you saying?” She stood upright and tall. I figured her question must have been rhetoric so I didn’t answer.
With her face slightly falling apart in disbelief she pressed on, “So you’ve never cheated once?” Obviously she assumed I must have.
“I’ve been loyal all my life.”
“Come on, Mrs. Squire, you’re secret’s safe with me. I know you must have, even before there was a Mr. Squire. Haven’t you?”
CHAPTER 2
I paused for a second or two before I answered.
“There was no one before him.”
Now I didn’t just felt like a prim, stuck-up prude but also like a goody-two-shoes who had never adventured outside the rules. Why should I feel guilty for being a good girl? I should be proud to say that I’ve been faithful all my life. Yet, saying it to Jessica, who seemed the total opposite of me, something of a bad girl, living on the edge, young and free- it made me felt un-alive, dead, old, and caged. Guilty.
Jessica made a small step closer and lowered her voice. Kelly now fully lifted her head up and watched as Jessica stared directly into my eyes and studied my expression for a second before whispering, “So you’ve never really had fun outside of Mr. Squire?”
“Hey, don’t be fooled Jessica, I’ve had plenty fun.”
“It’s Jessieee, please. You should call me Jessie,” she said very firmly in a disciplinary tone. Why was she so adamant about me calling her Jessie? Jessie had more of a boy-tone to the name than a girl-tone.
“Ok, ‘Jessie’, I’ve had my fun times.”
Kelly got up from her desk and I watched her stroll over towards us.
“Had? . . . Lately?” Jessica asked with a more stern than inquisitive face.
Her question was so direct it caught me off guard. It was like a sudden attack on my emotions. My whole body slumped and my face slackened, I opened my mouth to deny, “Oh surely I’ve . . .”
“Yeah right, that’s the reason I see you walking around the office so chirpy without the need of coffee to keep you up, right?”
I was in a moment of pause, studying her face for the sarcasm I knew she meant. It wasn’t just the fact that she was taller than me and I could feel her height above me, it was just something about her aura that felt compelling, commanding, dominating.
“Nice tits by the way,” she added matter-of-factly. Once more she caught me off guard, I didn’t know how to take her off-hand compliment.
Was she being too fresh for an intern? Too arrogant? Wasn’t she flying past her nest with these personal questions? Who was she to be questioning her boss’s wife? She had some nerve, but somehow, I felt a bit obliged to answer, somewhat submissive… maybe I was just too much of a polite person or maybe it was something else.
She didn’t desist despite the sour barrier I expressed on my face.
“Thank you,” I said with an obvious amount of hesitance and nervousness in my reply.
“You’ve been in the marriage a while now and he has grown to not even know you exist apart from work, right?”
I quickly surrendered my answer, “Oh no! Oh no . . . Never that.”
I looked up into her blue eyes, her soft lips, then asked, “How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two. Why? He has some other, famous chick around my age he’s banging?”
All my features opened into an “O” shape. Maybe I was too naïve, but that thought had never crossed my mind. What if that was the reason? What if he was having some fling with some other girl and that was the reason he was losing interest in me? Oh no, Paul wouldn’t. He doesn’t have time for that. He barely has time to sleep let alone keep up a side fling or relationship with some hot chick.
But what if he was? What if he really was? If I were to hire a detective, say Mr. Rodriguez, as he was one of the best in town for hire, and my husband was clean I would feel so guilty and ashamed. I perished the thought. Only suspicious or insecure wives woul
d do such a thing. I was a secure wife, my husband would not do such a thing, and he’s no damn cheating bastard.
I didn’t realized how much time had passed without me saying a word and Jessica was silent too, just watching my face sinking into a sulk.
“Hey, Mrs. Squire, if you ever need anyone to talk to I’m here, okay?”
“Cindy, you can call me Cindy,” I replied.
Before she walked off she casually looked back at me and said, “Do something special for him tonight, something different, got that?”
I was standing there, transfixed at her cockiness. I knew Jessica had good intentions but how could I pour out my marital tribulations to a young, single, redheaded intern who had no idea about what a real relationship was, let alone my marriage specifically?
Kelly used her fore-finger to saddle her glasses up the bridge of her nose then said, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” She then narrowed her eyes in the direction of Jessica.
“What?” I asked, totally oblivious. What was she talking about? What had she seen that I didn’t?
She walked away without saying another word.
I went back into the office confused and thinking about my little innocent chat with Jessica, I mean Jessie.
I placed the original documents on my desk. Half of Mr. Rodriguez’s name was peeping out of the top of the files. I stared at it for a short moment, then pulled it out; it wouldn’t hurt to save his number, I convinced myself as I dialed it into my cell. Deep down I didn’t know why I saved it. I’m sure Paul wasn’t a cheater, but I saved the number anyway.
CHAPTER 3
That evening I was eager to head home. When I was leaving the office Paul had not returned there yet and I was sure, even though it was Friday, that he would still work pretty late as usual. Shoot, he even went to the office on Sundays. Maybe if we had a child together he would stay home more. I wondered how much he would change from work to home if I were to bear his child.
I reached home with just two thoughts on my mind. First, what could I do that was special for my husband tonight? That’s when I realized that I was a bit not-so-creative in that department. I could not think of anything. It was late when I decided to prepare steamed mussels, bistro-style roast chicken, pommes frites with chives, and to finish, a decadent fudgy espresso soufflé for a romantic cocktail dinner. Everything was going to be like a romantic scene out of the movies tonight.
The dinner went cold and I fell asleep before Paul came home. At least my other thought was lighter. I fell asleep with it Jessie on my mind. The thought of Jessie as a companion, someone I could talk to. It was not until seven in the morning that I awoke to my husband buttoning up his shirt to leave. Still, Jessie was at the back of my mind. Why was Jessie stuck in my subconscious, what had she done to embed such a lasting imprint on me? I was trying to figure it all out as I scooped some of the sheet off my belly and wiggled my toes in search of my pink bunny-earred bed slippers.
“Worked late again?” I asked him gently.
“Yeah, working on the Austin twin’s case. I think I might have found something. Did you know that Tony’s daughter was stated as one of the beneficiaries on Austin’s will?”
“Okay, but what time did you come in last night, I had prepared –”
He sat on the bed and was putting on his shoe and before I could complete my sentence he added, “Don’t you figure it strange that a man like Jeanne Austin would add Samantha to his will?”
My voice rose a notch, “Paul . . . I’m trying to say something to you about us. Can we stop talking about work for one second and talk about us? Good God, we are home! What is happening here?”
He looked at me, quite appalled I think, as he sunk his heel into his shoe to finish off getting ready.
“I don’t get what this is about. I do everything I can to make sure we live a happy life, don’t I?”
“You work Paul. That’s what you do. You work. What about time? What about a child? We haven’t had sex in like seven months.”
“Seven? Six.”
“Seven, Paul. Seven. We last did it on our anniversary in June when that…,” I paused before mentioning it, “ever since that thing, happened between us, if that really matters. You want to pull a file out on that too?”
“Clearly something is wrong. I’m over that incident and I’ve told you that.”
“Then why haven’t we spent some time together?”
I really wanted to say “Why haven’t you fucked the shit out of me? I’m dying here.”
“I don’t get it. I have to work. What else do you want me to do? I’m doing all I can. I love you and you know that. I’m working my butt off for us.”
“What time did you come in last night?”
“Uh, a little after twelve. You were fast asleep so I didn’t bother to wake you. Why?”
“I had made a special meal for us. I was hoping we could do something new last night.”
“Something new? Like? . . .”
“Something sexy, Paul. Like making a little baby girl.”
“What’s this baby rush about?”
“I’m not getting any younger Paul.”
“Me either. But I just want to focus on work for now, if I could just . . .”
I threw my hands up.
“For HEAVEN SAKES!”
“What?”
“Can we just talk about us and save the career talk for between nine and five?”
“What is this ‘sexy’ thing about then?”
“US! I’m trying to get sexy to save US!”
“Sexy in that?”
He pointed to my attire. I was wearing Paul’s oversized plaid pajamas. I looked down, indeed it was unsexy attire.
A bit embarrassed, I forwent commenting on it and suggested, “We need to try new sexual things, our bedroom is a bit dull. I’m not afraid to admit that. Good god, I couldn’t even think of something sexy to do for you last night.”
Paul’s face got blank and he started looking over to the drawer for his briefcase mid-way into my speech, “but I’m trying. I’m trying Paul, I’m trying.”
Paul looked over at me and I knew he could see it was a deeply rooted problem for me because his face became emphatic and his motion slowed.
“I just want you to try too. Is that too much for a wife to ask of her husband?”
“No, hun,” his tone was low, “It’s not. I promise you that tonight, I’ll be home early and I’ll have something very special for you, okay? Promise.” Paul was highly respected in the law fraternity because he was always a man of his word.
He peck kissed me on the lips and headed off to work. There was a soft echo in the back of my mind. It was the voice of Kelly as she said, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
I wondered what she meant.
I showered, jumped in a sky-blue, sexy, short skirt, and went to the mall. I knew exactly what I would get for our steamy night tonight.
CHAPTER 4
Turning a Straight Woman Into a Lesbian
I pulled into the dark parking lot under the building. It was really dark… too dark. I suddenly realized it seemed darker than it actually was because I had on my dark oversized sunglasses. In all that darkness, another dark thought crept into my mind, “What if my husband was cheating?”
What if what Jessie had said was true? Or, even worse, what if who Paul was cheating with was none other than Jessie herself? Oh no. No, no, no, Paul’s a divorce lawyer, he’s quite aware of how much he would lose by cheating- half of everything. Though I deserved every bit of the half, I didn’t want to lose the man who took my virginity, the only man I had ever had sex with, the man I got married to, the man I wanted to have children with, Paul. We had come such a long way and I didn’t want to lose all the life that I had given up to him just like that. Was it true that all men cheat?
Should I divorce Paul if he was cheating?
Curiosity was getting the best of me. I pulled my phone out of my black Chanel h
andbag.
I was at the elevator to go up and decided that I’d take the stairs instead. After climbing my way up to the third floor, my ankles were hurting. It was a terrible idea to take the stairs in these five inches Louboutin heels. I’m not all stuck up in fashion or anything. In fact, I was going to wear sneaks originally, but they would not have looked as nice with my skirt and these light blue heels were amazing with my tight skirt. I liked the way they accentuated my shapely legs. They always made me feel sexy and today was no different. I boarded the busy escalator on the third floor going up to the fifth, to the Angel’s Lingerie Boutique. That’s when I caught a glimpse of a redhead on the opposite end going down.
Immediately, it reminded me of Jessie, but it wasn’t her. This redhead was a boy it seemed, with shorter hair, black sagging jeans, metal goth belt, and a red and black plaid button-up long sleeve with the top half of the shirt worn opened up.
At a second glance, with a slight turn of the person’s face toward me and the person going farther and farther away, the face looked a bit feminine. I popped my glasses off and concentrated hard to see clearly, maybe slightly hoping it was Jessie, thinking if it was her she could actually help me pick out something sexy. As I strained my eyes even harder, the person was already at the end of the escalator ride. They turned right and headed out of my sight.
After trying on one teddy-style lingerie set and four bustier-style lingerie sets thinking they would go well with my heavily-endowed bosom, I finally fell in love with a purple lace-up corset with garter belts. As I was deciding whether to finalize my purchase, the redhead walked into the store with a friend’s arm latched around ‘her’ waist. It was indeed a girl. I decided I was done now; I felt a bit shy trying on anything else knowing more customers were in the store.
CHAPTER 5
First Time
I stepped back into the changing room quickly, hiding my body and the lingerie from the glances of the other women. Thoughts of Jessie spun in my mind. But that redhead couldn’t be her—she always dressed so professionally in the office there was no way she was into all that Goth look stuff. And a girlfriend? I had gotten the idea Jessie was single. And straight. I shook my head at the mirrored reflection staring back at me.