by Emma Nichols
“Go on … I like where this is going,” Thalia said, a small smile playing on her lips.
She’d been after me to start dating again almost since the ink was dry on my divorce papers over a year ago. My ex, Michael, was already living with someone else, and had told me he planned to propose on this vacation, with our kids in attendance.
“No one will remember me at this reunion, right? Not only did we all graduate ten years ago, but I left their school three years before that. I can be whoever I want to be and no one will know the difference,” I said, lowering my voice and leaning closer to her. “I plan to make up a story about where I live, what I do, basically recreate my whole life. I’ll find a hot guy to hook up with, then disappear and never have to see him again.”
Thalia sat back in her chair with a thud, eyes wide.
“Who even are you right now?” she asked, then laughed and said, “Or, should I ask, who are you going to be?”
I held out my hand to her and she shook it.
“Hi, I’m Molly Murphy. I went to school here freshman year, then my parents transferred me to school in France. While there, I roomed with Cheryl Titan, who went on to become a pretty big actress in Hollywood. Now, I’m an assistant to the stars, working for people like The Rock, Jennifer Lawrence, and Chris Pratt. I’ve never been married or had kids; instead, I’ve focused on my job. It’s all very glamorous.”
“Wow, can I hang out with you and Chris Pratt?” Thalia asked.
I shook my head and said reluctantly, “Sorry, what I do is very confidential … hush, hush, and I don’t like to mix business with my personal life. I’ll tell him you’re a fan, though.”
I paused, waiting for Thalia to tell me I was certifiable and to just tell the truth: I’m a twenty-nine-year-old divorced single mom of two kids, who manages an Applebee’s and hasn’t had sex in two years.
“Why an assistant to the stars? Why not a phone sex operator or a dominatrix or something that would be more likely to guarantee that hot one nighter?”
“Because, I don’t want to intimidate the hypothetical guy, or have him expect me to whip him or something. I just want a glamorous backstory, and for it to be apparent that I’m not looking for anything other than a reunion fling.”
Thalia seemed to ponder this for a moment, then she nodded. “I think it’ll work.”
“You do?” I asked. “You don’t think it’s a crazy, reckless, irresponsible idea?”
“No, I think you deserve to have a little fun, and this is the perfect opportunity for you to do so, without the one-night stand following you home.”
I chuckled. “I really don’t think I’m in danger of that happening.”
Thalia glared at me.
“Girl, you are a fine woman with great tits, a nice round ass, and hair that men can’t wait to get their fists tangled in. You’ve allowed that dick, Michael, to steal your thunder and make you believe you’re something you’re not, and I, for one, am thrilled that you are ready to get a piece of yourself back.”
“Thanks,” I said, even though I felt more frumpy than fine.
“You bought new clothes? Sexy clothes?”
“Yes.”
“And … you got waxed?”
“I did.”
“You packed makeup, hair product, and lingerie?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then, you’re ready,” Thalia said, clasping her hands together. “Go forth and get laid, young grasshopper.”
I laughed, and felt the familiar pang of nerves in my belly.
“Maybe I should just stay home. We can have a movie marathon.”
“No, no movie marathons,” my best friend argued. “You are going to go to Pennsylvania and knock the class of two thousand eight on their asses. They aren’t going to know what hit them. And, I don’t want you leaving that cocktail party tonight until you’ve at least made the first move with the lucky man of your choosing. Understood? No going back to the hotel room and ordering room service … you’re on a mission.”
“Got it,” I said with a sharp nod. “Tonight, I’ll go to that cocktail party and scope out the single men. I’ll initiate chatter with each until I find one that I have a spark with, and then I will initiate Operation Molly Gets Some.”
“And then, when you do get back to the room, you text me and tell me his full name, phone number, where’s he’s from, and anything else I need to know to make sure you’re safe. Plus, all the good details.”
“Okay,” I said with a laugh. “I will, promise.”
2
Oh, God, why am I so nervous?
I’d done some deep breathing exercises before leaving my hotel room to come to the cocktail party at The Leaning Pine.
I was all tucked into my spanx, had been buffed and shined within an inch of my life, and looked better than I had in years. I’d lost some weight since the divorce and was wearing a little black dress that I wouldn’t have been caught dead in since giving birth.
I felt good, I looked good, and still, I was about to start hyperventilating.
Can I really do this?
I stood off to the side of the room, near the bar. I’d ordered a gin and tonic and was sipping it while watching all of my old classmates head toward the private room where our first reunion function would be held.
I’d seen a few familiar faces, a few couples, and a lot of people who I had no idea who they were. There were a couple notably hot guys, who appeared to be single, and I’d been mentally cataloging as they walked by me.
Now, it was time to pull up my spanx and actually go inside and begin this crazy mission of mine.
Maybe I should just go back to the hotel, put on my PJs, and order room service…
No. I promised Thalia, and myself, that I would do this. Dammit, I deserved an orgasm!
Pushing off of the bar with single-minded determination, I made my way toward the back room where all of my classmates had disappeared.
I took one nice big gulp of my g&t, and entered the room. I looked around, taking in the green and gold decorations, our school colors, and saw that there was a pretty good turnout, considering a lot of us had to travel from out of town.
I plastered a friendly, welcoming, hopefully inviting, smile on my face and began to mingle.
I moved from group to group, saying hello. When I heard, “and, this is my wife…” I said, “Nice to meet you,” and moved on. Finally, I was close enough to one of the potentials and pulled my inner sex-kitten to the forefront of my mind.
“Hi, I’m Molly, how are you enjoying the party so far?” I began, stepping closer to the tallish red-haired man. He had blue eyes and a cute, crooked grin.
“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice a little high. I ignored the tone of his voice and gave him my best smile, then he said, “Although, there’s not enough hard liquor. Do you know if anyone brought any good stuff?”
“Good stuff?” I asked. “Like, Ciroc?”
Red rolled his eyes and whispered, “No, like, coke…”
Yup, see you later…
I shook my head, gave him a stern look of motherly disapproval, and moved on.
Next, I walked over to a blond-haired cutie who was about my height. He was leaning against the wall, holding a bottle of water in lieu of a hard drink, and looked very, very fit. I mean, his shirt was straining to hold in his biceps.
“Hey, I’m Molly, and you are?”
He turned his dark eyes toward me and gave a half-grin.
“Buck, I’m doing pretty good.” He looked me up and down and asked, “Do you work out?”
“Uh, sometimes,” I lied.
“I’m a personal trainer,” Buck said. “I could help you lose that extra fifteen and really tone up.”
I spun on my heel and walked away.
With a sigh, I looked around the room one more time, the lure of my hotel room becoming greater by the second. Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe I’d skip the rest of the reunion BS and stay at the hotel the whole weekend.
I could get a massage, order lots of fatty foods … suck it, Buck … and get some rest.
“Excuse me,” a deep, sexy voice said from behind me. “Aren’t you Molly Murphy?”
I turned around and looked up. Then, up, up, up, until I was finally looking into the face of the hottest guy I’d seen since I’d had a Magic Mike marathon.
He had dark hair, jet-black, that was worn a little long, but looked really good on him. There was a short, dark beard covering his strong jawline, and he had the most amazing blue eyes. Crystal clear, like looking into the shallow part of the ocean.
“Yes,” I said, sure I’d never met him before. “And you are?”
“Vic Manning,” he said, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his mouth.
My pulse quickened as his lips brushed my skin.
“Hi, Vic,” I managed. I didn’t remember his face, or his name, but didn’t want to risk offending him by saying so. “Nice to see you again.”
“I was hoping you’d be here,” Vic said, and I felt my eyes widen to comedic proportions.
“You were?” I asked, floored.
“Yeah, I was curious, what have you been up to all these years?” he asked, maneuvering us until we were at one of the high-top tables.
He was drinking an amber liquid, no ice. The kind of drink a real man drinks, not like my ex, who only drank cheap beer. Very cool.
“Oh, well, after freshman year I moved to Paris, then Hollywood. I’m an assistant to the stars. It’s hectic, but a lot of fun,” I replied, using my lie for the first time. It was actually really easy.
“So, no kids, or … husband?” Vic asked, his gaze searching my face.
I felt my body get heated, and savored the instant crackle of chemistry as his hand reached for mine once more.
I shook my head and asked, “You?”
Please be single … please be single.
“No, I’ve never been married either,” he said, accepting my answer at face value.
“What do you do? Where do you live now?”
I lifted my glass to take a sip, cognizant of his thumb caressing the back of my other hand.
“I’m in Seattle,” Vic answered, then leaned in a little, causing me to do the same. With a lowered voice he said, “I work undercover with the FBI, so I travel a lot, but that’s my home base.”
“Oh,” I breathed, thinking an undercover FBI agent was about the sexiest job I could think of.
It looked like I’d found a winner!
3
“Want to go out on the deck?” Vic asked, gesturing toward a door at the back of the room. “We’ll get more privacy and actually be able to hear each other.”
“Sure, that sounds great,” I agreed with a smile, then followed him out the door and onto the deck.
There were tables and chairs set up. Vic went to the table closest to the railing and pulled out a chair for me.
“Thanks,” I said as I sat. “It’s a nice night.”
“It is,” Vic replied, taking the seat across from me.
“So, have you, uh, talked to anyone else from our class yet?” I asked, feeling a little awkward.
“I saw Jordan, Sasha, and Mia, but I didn’t talk to them,” Vic said with a shrug. “I did say hi to Amanda Malcom, well, Amanda Sterling now, and her husband Joel. He seemed nice. But, that’s about it. You?”
I shook my head.
“No, not really, I just got here. I spoke briefly to a couple of guys, but I didn’t remember them from school. In my defense, I was only at Linwood my freshman year, so I don’t have the memories of these people that you probably do. How was the rest of high school for you?”
Vic grimaced.
“I think most people would agree that high school sucked; at least, for me it did. I had a much better time in college, and at the academy. That’s where I made friendships that lasted. High school … not so much.”
“Oh,” I said, then finished off my gin and tonic, and asked, “What made you decide to come to the reunion then?”
“Well, I was in town for work, and, like I mentioned, I was hoping I’d run into you.”
My stomach fluttered and I asked, “Really?”
It just seemed so random. I couldn’t remember this guy at all. He was very handsome and had an air of mystery about him. I didn’t see how I could have made such a lasting impression on a guy like him.
I’d been pretty scrawny, pimply, and quiet my freshman year.
“Really, really,” Vic said with a smirk. “Care for another?”
I looked down at my empty glass, then back at him.
“Sure, thanks.”
He stood and took my empty glass. When I was alone on the deck, I looked out into the dark night and contemplated my options.
Vic was definitely hot, had a great job, and seemed interested. All great qualities for a man, even if I was only looking for a weekend fling. Would it be too forward for me to ask him if he wanted to spend the weekend doing the horizontal mambo with me, or should I play coy and ease into things, rather than jump into it right away.
Before I came to a decision, he was back, and there was a fresh drink placed in front of me.
“That was fast,” I said, smiling up at him.
“Irving was inside, you know, the nerd who everyone made fun of in school? Well, he’s rich as hell now, so they’re all in there kissing his ass.” He rolled his eyes and took his seat. “Which was good for me, because it meant the bar was free.”
I chuckled and took a drink of the cold, refreshing liquid.
“Thanks again for the drink,” I said, then asked, “So, are you planning to hit up all of the festivities this weekend?”
Vic seemed to think about it for a moment, then replied, “I figured I’d check out the lake, and I was planning to go to the thing at the Hilton tomorrow night, but now that I know it’s semi-formal or formal, I don’t know … I’m not all that fired up to go to prom at my age, you know. What about you?”
I took a deep breath and searched for my inner vixen.
I’d vowed to be someone else on this trip. Someone bolder, more vivacious and outgoing, and instead, I was acting more and more like myself as the night grew on.
That isn’t going to get me anywhere.
I twirled my small drink small between my thumb and finger and tried for a coy look.
“Well,” I began throatily. “I figured I’d check out all of the planned activities, but I’m also open to spending the weekend in bed. It all just depends…”
Vic’s eyes widened, then got heavy. I could see his pulse in his neck, and my heart rate picked up when he cleared his throat and asked, “Depends on what?”
I leaned in, arching a bit so my cleavage was on full display.
Vic’s gaze flickered down, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, then he brought his heated stare back to my face.
“On whether or not I find someone who’s interested in heating things up this weekend.”
Vic let out a sound that was a cross between a groan and a squeak and I felt a thrill of feminine awareness run through me.
This approach definitely seemed to be working. I was beginning to like my inner vixen.
Vic cleared his throat again, and this time when he spoke, his tone was low and rough, and I felt each word like a caress along my spine.
“I’m interested,” he said, and I smiled.
I probably looked like a cat about to pounce, but I was completely okay with that. Playing the part of a sexually confident woman was actually making me feel like one, and I found that I really enjoyed the sense of power it gave me.
“Perfect,” I cooed, then asked, “So, what do you say we get out of here?”
Before I could rise, Vic was out of his chair and helping me out of mine. I felt his hand on my hair as he brushed it back off of my neck and leaned down, bringing his lips inches from my ear.
“I say … yes. I’m yours to do whatever you want this weekend.”
4
; By the time we got to my room, my palms were sweating, and the vixen officially had cold feet.
I placed my hand on the door handle, looked up at Vic, down at my hand, and back again, unsure of what to do.
His hand covered mine.
“Hey,” Vic said softly, and I forced my gaze back up to his face. “There’s no pressure here. No rules, or expectations. What do you say, you go in and get comfortable, and I’ll go throw on some basketball shorts and a T-shirt, then I’ll come back? We can order room service, watch TV, talk, or whatever?”
“You had me at room service,” I replied with a small smile, relieved that he was being so cool about this, especially after how strong I’d come on at the bar.
Vic’s grin was slightly crooked as he dropped his hand and said, “Then, I’ll be right back. Order me a burger with everything?”
I nodded, holding back a laugh as he jogged to the elevator, like he couldn’t wait to get back.
Once he was gone, I let myself inside and started taking off articles of clothing as I crossed the room. The urge to toss them around was strong, I mean, I was on vacation after all, but since I knew I’d have company, I hung up my dress and folded my spanx. The latter of which I shoved deep into the back of the drawer, where no one could find them.
I pulled on my pajamas, which were teal shorts and a tank top with burgers and fries on them, and opted to keep my bra on. I didn’t want to give Vic mixed signals, since I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get my mojo back tonight or not, and it seemed cruel to tease him with unbound breasts.
My boobs were one of my best features. Large, with very sensitive nipples. Not to brag, but, they’re known to make men’s eyes bug out, and sometimes drool a little.
I called down to room service, including a bottle of wine and a six-pack of beer, with the burgers, since I wasn’t sure what Vic wanted to drink, then went about tidying up before finally settling on the bed and picking up the remote.