Spinster?

by Thompson, Nikki Mathis

  "Why do you say that?" Marin asked.

  "It's the feeling I get."

  "Well, who are we to say when he's ready? Give him a chance. Maybe he's just a bit rusty, ya know?" Jen suggested.

  "You know, you're right. It's not like I'm looking to marry the guy." Tess grinned, deciding to let the subject drop. It was true she wasn't looking to marry the guy, but the truth was it was always swimming around in her brain. Anytime she met someone she liked, it was there, in the back of her mind. She didn't need a man to be happy, she was happy. But maybe her happy might, just might, be even happier if she found someone to share her life with. Time would only tell.

  "Do you ever miss it?" Emma asked, looking at Marin.

  "Miss what?"

  "Men...schlongs. The muscle. The manly smell surrounding you as he pushes inside?" Emma asked, in the daze of her naughty thoughts.

  "Jesus, Emma," Jen snipped. "Actually, I'd like to know the answer to that question, too."

  "Me, too, " Tess admitted.

  Marin sighed. "I've never heard that one before...but really what I miss about sex with men, all two of them, was the simplicity." The girls looked at her, confusion on their faces. "As you know, men are simple creatures when it comes to sex. Touch dick = orgasm. Stroke dick = orgasm. Suck dick = orgasm. Sure there's finesse in going down on a guy, if I remember correctly, but for the most part it's pretty straight forward. Now, getting a woman off on the other hand...G spot, middle C spot, nipples, inner thighs, spine, fingers, lips, mouth, sucking, biting, licking...sometimes all at the same time. There are so many ways to pleasure a woman, but none of them are easy."

  "Is it hot in here?" Tess asked. Jen and Emma nodded.

  "And as you know, orgasms for women start in the mind, so that's a whole other layer...but damn, it's worth it. The sweet sigh and tight clenching around my fingers. The sweet taste in my mouth..." Marin caught herself. The girls sat silent, wide-eyed. "Sorry, it's been a while," Marin admitted in a soft voice.

  Tess cleared her throat. "No worries. We've just never heard you be quite so...descriptive before...So, it's been a while?" Marin nodded, looking down at the origami project she had going with the napkin in her hand.

  "It's okay, Mare. We all go through dry spells," Emma offered. "You're a heart in kind of girl, and yours is probably still broken." Emma rubbed gentle circles on Marin's shoulder. Marin lifted her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Tess hated to see her friend in pain. It had been six months since Marin broke up with her girlfriend Dani. They'd been a couple for a year and had lived together for half of that time. It was the longest relationship she'd been in since she and her college love broke up a decade ago.

  "I just can't seem to get past it guys...I've tried everything."

  "When it comes to getting your heart handed to you, there's no trying to get over anything, sweetie. Time, pure and simple. It sucks, but it's the truth. There's not a damn thing you can do but feel it," Jen said.

  "Feel it, and then one day you'll wake up and you'll be over it," Tess said.

  "I know...in my mind I know, but right now I'm still drowning, ya know? I thought she was the one. I loved her with every piece of my self." Marin wiped a few tears from her cheeks. "And still, I can't even think about even kissing anyone else...so yeah, it's been a while."

  "Have you talked to her at all?" Tess asked. Marin shook her head. They'd met in a cooking class and fell instantly. Dani was in her twenties and hadn't come out to her family. Marin, fed up with pretending they were just roommates, gave her an ultimatum. Dani packed her bags and left—both broken hearted and in tears. Tess had gone over that night after Dani left. It was horrible. She'd never seen her friend so upset. It made Tess want to stay single for the rest of her life. Anything seemed preferable to that kind of anguish.

  Marin sniffed. "Sorry, sorry. You guys have had to witness too many tears with all of this Dani bullshit. I'm done crying."

  "You can cry as much as you need to, sweetie. You'd do the same for any of us if the roles were reversed," Emma pointed out.

  "Yes, I would. But at some point I would tell you to suck it up. It's time."

  "Okay, then Marin, I say this with all of the love in my heart...suck it up." Tess advised with a smile.

  Then Emma and Jen chimed in, "Suck it up!"

  Marin smiled and took a deep breath. "Sucking it up."

  "Okay, so enough whining about our lack of steadies. We're beautiful, successful, all around kick-ass women. Life is good." Tess cheered.

  "Better than good," Jen added.

  "The best," Marin agreed.

  "So, what say you? One more round?" Emma asked.

  Jen and Marin said yes.

  Tess stood up, grabbing her purse. "Sorry girls, can't. I have to get a good night's sleep." She threw down two twenties and started her way around, pecking her friends goodbye.

  "Wuss," Emma teased.

  "I know, but you know I would never turn down tequila unless justified."

  "And what is this justification, Tess?" Marin asked, her blonde brow arched.

  Her response was a wink. "Good night, girls. Drive safe." The decibel of their harassing comments lessened, then went silent by the time she passed the hostess stand.

  Her reasons were her own and she didn't want to go into it tonight. She wanted to keep her nerves and excitement to herself. It was silly, after all. She knew it, but she felt the nerves and excitement all the same.

  And it felt good.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It usually didn't take Tess more than fifteen minutes to find something to wear to work. But when minute forty-eight passed, she knew she needed to make some decisions or she'd be late to her morning meeting. It wasn't her morning meeting, but her lunch meeting, that had her Spanx in a twist. Today she was taking an extended lunch—her destination, the law offices of Foster, Graham, and Caraway. Today was the day...Tess was going to interview the Wesley Caraway at his office. He was an attorney in his father's law firm. She'd contacted him the week before explaining the situation, via email, of course. She couldn't take the chance of screwing the verbal pooch when she heard his voice, which was no doubt deep and smooth as silk. He said he was surprised they wanted to interview him. Tess'd sniffed when she read that line. "Really, dude, who else would they interview?" Whether the modesty was false she couldn't decipher...damn email. But in person, with only a desk between them, was a different story. A sturdy desk...sure to hold her weight when he pressed the fabric of her skirt up her thighs.

  "Skirt, definitely a skirt."

  Pushing aside the pile of discarded choices—including the "my ass looks huge" pants, the "I look freaking pregnant" crepe dress, and the "I'm never eating carbs again" silk tank—she selected a camel colored pencil skirt from it's dry cleaning bag. It was tight everywhere until it flared into a delicate wave at mid calf, and with a white fitted button down, it looked very flattering. She went a little heavier on the eye makeup than she normally wore to work, but it brought out the green in her mostly brown eyes. She twisted her caramel waves into submission, pinning it to the nap of her neck. High heeled sling backs or flats? She held one of each on her hand. Her mind was saying flats, you idiot. But her loins were saying, go with the heels. They'll dig into his back better.

  "Heels, it is."

  Logically she knew it was silly to fixate on how she looked. Logically she knew it didn't matter, that Wesley was probably married to a supermodel who goes down on him every day without being asked. Tess was no supermodel, but if Wesley was still as hot as he was twenty years ago, then he wouldn't have to ask her, either. She'd go down on her knees with enthusiasm and gusto. Bowing to his cock like...

  "Lord, get a life, Tess." She shook her head, slipped in her earrings. "Shit." All this mucking about with clothes and fantasizing about desks and cock bowing had her running behind, really behind. She didn't have time to eat breakfast, so she snatched an apple from it's bright bowl and hoped it would hold her over until lunch. Th
e lunch she wouldn't be eating because she would be interviewing Wesley. Damn it. Hopefully all the guacamole she ate the night before would sustain her until she could grab a sandwich.

  "Brady, I'm still waiting on the conclusion for your article. I need it by the end of the day."

  "You got it."

  "The sales team brought in five solid advertisers for the next six issues, so looks like you fuckers get to keep your jobs," he teased. A wad of paper flew towards his head.

  "Okay, lastly, Warner, your piece looks great. You'll feature this month," her boss announced. There was a round of applause and enthusiastic cheering. Gabe Parks could be a task master, but he sure had good taste. He was a squat, stout guy. Perspiration heavy and foul mouthed, he seemed more suited for the stock exchange than this little free publication.

  "Thanks, Gabe. That's great news, " Tess said, trying to suppress the eat-it-suckers grin threatening the corners of her mouth.

  And it was great news—to have the feature article was the goal of each writer. They had a tally board on the wall outside of the break room. Whoever got the most features received the coveted "Writer of the Universe" trophy made of spray painted gold plastic and Mardi Gras beads. If that wasn't enough, the winner also had dinner at the swankiest restaurant they could think of paid in full by the other columnists. The trophy now sat on Jemma Brewer's desk, stolen right from under Tess's nose. Tess had it in the bag when Jemma swooped in with her sell out piece she wrote about the new cancer wing at the Children's Hospital. Like Gabe could say no to sick kids...the pussy. Tess's piece on the Christmas tree lighting in the square, although heartwarming, didn't stand a chance. So Jemma, with a smug face, got the December issue giving her six features to Tess's five.

  But this year, it was on. This was Tess's second feature of the year, and she was going to kick Jemma's ass. Graciously, of course. Stiletto heel in Jemma's neck, trophy held high, "We are the Champions" blasting from the jam box being held high above Gabe's smiling face.

  Like she said, graciously.

  "Okay, that wraps it up. Make sure I have everything by the end of the day. It's going to layout tomorrow, and if your shit isn't in, I'll let Juan take over." Groans filled the conference room. Juan was their layout editor, and albeit extremely talented, had certain ideas on how their monthly should look. It had only happened once, to Bill Jennings, who may still be in therapy as a result. The title page of his feature piece on the mayoral race had ended up bedazzled in sparkled bubble font. No one had missed a deadline since. "Get back to work." Everyone vaulted from their chairs, anxious to get to their desks.

  With her article completed, she had plenty of free time to watch time go in reverse—at least that's how it felt all morning long. Her stomach was churning and turning, both with excitement and hunger. She grabbed her purse and left her office. Her strides were brisk as she made her way down the hall to Willa's desk in the open foyer of their office.

  "Willa, you wanna go grab a bagel?"

  "Sorry, babe. Ben made me French toast this morning."

  "Ugh, really? On top of everything he makes you breakfast?"

  "Not all of the time. Only on the days he has early rounds. He doesn't like me skipping meals and he knows I always forget to eat breakfast. And he doesn't consider four cups of coffee and half of your muffin breakfast." Willa grinned, pushing her horn rimmed glasses up her nose. The glasses did nothing to mute the blue in her eyes.

  "Well, do you want to accompany me while I get breakfast? I, unlike you, don't have a handsome short order cook at my beck and call." Tess reached over, tucking a piece of Willa's wayward hair behind her ear. "Please...remember that hot guy I told you about a few weeks ago, the one I have to interview for a not-mine reunion?

  "Yeah."

  "Well, it's today."

  "Give me five minutes to finish up this spreadsheet."

  Tess smiled in triumph. She knew this kernel would be too good for Willa to turn down. Tess did need sustenance, but the chance to tell Willa was just as appealing.

  Exactly eight minutes later they sat at a small round in the coffee shop in the lobby of their building. They only had plain bagels left, so Tess had opted for a slice of coffee cake instead. Hopefully the sugar crash she would experience as a result would occur after the interview. Willa had a cup of herbal tea.

  "Tea?" Tess asked.

  "I've already had like ten cups of coffee. If I ingest any more caffeine I'm going to go into convulsions."

  "Good call."

  "Sooooo? Don't think I'm going to be lured away from my desk without the info," Willa said, with a smirk.

  "Oh, I'm gonna tell you, and it's really not a big deal, so I'm not sure why I'm so worked up about it. I feel kind of foolish, but I know you won't judge...mmm, this cake is so freaking good...okay, so, like I told you, he was two grades above me. He was beautiful and popular. On top of that he was really nice."

  "And obviously you had a ginormous crush on him."

  "Of course...He didn't know who I was back then. I mean why would he? That didn't stop me from naming our babies and writing Tess-N-Wes on the inside of my spiral."

  "It makes perfect sense. The less you know them, like really know them, the easier it is to obsess. You have the luxury of conjuring up an idyllic image in your mind, which he could never live up to in real life, I might add...kind of like I do with Bradley Cooper."

  Tess nodded. "Precisely."

  "Sit across from him like you didn't name your hypothetical children."

  "Exactly."

  "I can see why you'd be nervous, but do you think you're afraid the image of your teenage dreams will not match up to the grown up reality?"

  "No, it's not that...I don't know why I'm so discombobulated. I just am. I'm not making any sense?" Tess groaned, putting her head down on the table.

  Willa gave her downturned head a pat. "I get it. I think I would be nervous, too."

  Tess raised her head. "Really?"

  "Yup. Hottest, most popular guy from your school in the flesh. And you actually have to have a conversation with him?"

  "I should have done a phone interview like I did with the rest." Head back down. Thump.

  "Where would the fun be in that?" Willa wiggled her dark brows.

  "I know, right? It's like I was too curious to pass it up. And you know what curiosity does to my cat." It was Tess's turn to wiggle her brows.

  They both giggled. "I still say the odds are slim that he's still that good looking," Willa mused.

  Tess chewed, thinking about it for a second. "Who knows. I'm way hotter, so what if he is too?"

  "You were a late bloomer, Tess. He bloomed early...wouldn't it be a delicious twist of fate if you were the hot one?"

  Tess brushed the crumbs from her hands and smiled. "That would be awesome." Her nerves turned into excitement. The odds were good—Tess was pretty, not drop dead gorge by any means, but good looking—or so she'd been told. Suddenly, her hopes went from Wesley being as gorgeous as ever, to hoping he was overweight with a comb over.

  "Awesome."

  They walked back to the office arm in arm. Tess towered over Willa, what with her wearing heels and Willa in flats, which Tess envied now that her feet ached with a feverish intensity.

  "Willa, thanks for letting me whine about it for a second time. You always make me feel better, and it's so nice to have someone who gets me. My neurotic insecurities don't even phase you."

  "I feel the same way about you." Willa squeezed Tess's arm with her free hand.

  "I love ya, friend. Almost more than wine."

  "Whoa!" then Willa added, "I love you, too...but nowhere close to wine." They both laughed.

  Tess walked back to her desk, lighter and more in control—leaving the nerves and butterflies behind. She was no longer the clumsy frumpette of her youth and she refused to revert back to that person. Her self confidence had been hard won and she wasn't about to relinquish it to a guy she hadn't seen in twenty years.

  Just no
.

  The feeling filled her all the way down to her car. It continued as she weaved into traffic. It even stayed with her as she pulled the brass handles of the large glass door that read Foster, Graham, and Caraway. She gave her name to the receptionist with a touch of swagger. Her feet made their way down the thin Persian runner covering the dark wood floor. To anyone watching, it looked like she was simply brushing something from her skirt, in reality she was wiping the moisture from her palms.

  "Be confident." she whispered to herself. She approached the fourth door on the left and took a deep breath. Throwing her shoulders back, she knocked on the door frame.

  "Wesley?"

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tess hovered by the door. The man standing by the desk looked up to the sound of her knock. It would seem she got her wish—the one where she was now the hot one. The man behind the desk was overweight and balding. There was a sweaty sheen to his reddened face. She should have been happy, but all she felt was let down. It would have been nice to drool over him for thirty minutes. Going off script to get to know him better. Now she'd be out in fifteen.

  "Sorry, I was just grabbing a file." The man smiled pleasantly, raising the manila file in his hand.

  "You're not Wesley Caraway?" Her voice, a mixture of surprise and relief.

  "No, Bradley Graham." He walked past her and left the office. The lady at the from desk told her to go on back, that he was expecting her, but wasn't sure if she should take a seat and wait. She decided to check back with the receptionist. Turning to go back to the lobby, she found herself nose deep into a pressed blue shirt.

  "Pardon me," she said, raising her eyes to the nice smelling wall she'd collided with. Adams apple. Smooth chin. Full lips. Polished teeth. Proportionate nose to nostril ratio. Eyes. Soft looking hair. Wait, back to eyes. Whoa, blue eyes! Blue as anything blue you can think of that's an alarming shade of blue.