The Other Other Woman (30 page)

I still say three.

Agreed.

Y’all are nuts. I’m going to attack him when I first see him at around 1, then later that afternoon, then we’ll eat dinner, then do it again. Then maybe in the middle of the night, and again in the morning. So, see, that’s like five. I’m being really conservative with four.

Girl. You better bring him some Ben Gay and Epsom salts to soak in.

LMAO Jules! Oooh… You think he’ll take out his teeth and put them in a glass by the bed!?

Why do you bitches have to make fun of my love of the elderly?

I still say three.

Me too.

I hate you both.

I decided that I would head out a little early. I wanted to go to Mebane first, a little town near Greensboro where some of the better outlet stores are located. The clothing stores opened at 10 a.m. and even if he drove fast (which, let’s face it, he wouldn’t) it would be at least after 1:00 before he would get into town. I had very few clothes that still fit me after losing at least 30 pounds since the previous fall, so it was the perfect opportunity to pick up some cute things while waiting on him to arrive.

That morning, before I did anything else, I made certain he was on the road. I was very pleased to learn that he had gotten an even earlier start than I expected. Normally, I shop when I’m depressed. I’m not a shopaholic, exactly, but I am used to having a lot of clothes and I definitely get a little high off of some good deals. I shop even more when I’m happy. The fact that I was alone for three hours in a sea of outlet bargains, and finally going to spend the night with the man I was crazy about after not seeing him for seven weeks, was downright dangerous for my wallet.

He called me and left me a message once he was about 45 minutes away. I’m ashamed to admit that I loved the sound of his voice so much that sometimes I would purposely not answer, just so he’d leave me a voicemail. This was not one of those times, however. My phone was just in an Ann Taylor fitting room buried under a pile of 20 shirts. I finished up my purchases, and he texted me a little while later. Just the address:
304 North Greene St.

On my way,
I replied.

He called me just as I was getting out of the car in the hotel parking lot to give me the room number and to see if I needed help “with all my luggage.” Punk. I had only brought one overnight bag… this time. Not including the five or so shopping bags of which I was now the proud owner. He left the door cracked for me as always, and I still knocked, as always. But this time I was so much more relaxed, even though it had been so long since I had seen him. Not having to worry if we might get caught together was such a refreshing change.

He answered the door wearing his black jeans, a blue button-down shirt, and a hugely charming smile. When he embraced me, I could tell that he was more relaxed too. I was so incredibly excited to see him. I threw my bag against the wall to wrap my arms around his neck and nearly wrapped my legs around him too. He laughed and greeted me warmly with, “Hey sweetie, it’s so good to see you.” He rubbed his hands firmly over my back and gripped me tightly into his chest as his lips covered mine. He plunged his tongue into my mouth for a lush kiss that immediately sent me reeling, remembering just how much I missed him, the flavor and feel of his lips pressing against mine, the enticing smell of his skin so close to me, yet still buried under layers of clothing. I ran my fingers through his hair around his ears, noticeably damaging his perfectly coiffed hair, which was much longer now. I just whispered, “Oh God, I missed you,” in the most suggestive voice I could muster, and gently tugged at his bottom lip, kissing him back.

As we let go of each other, he motioned me over to a little table near the window. “I missed you too. Come on, let’s catch up for a minute.”

He had me sit in the chair opposite him. He made himself very comfortable, leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his back, with his legs sort of spread out in front of him, much like he did that day in his office. But this time his legs were gingerly touching mine. I swear he did that on purpose, just daring me to jump into his lap. But his sitting that way gave me a good chance to really look at him. Physically, he still made me crazy. I found him almost unbearably handsome, especially the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his lips curled up in the middle, giving him a near permanent shit-eating grin. Even though realistically I knew that most people would look at him and think, “Yeah he’s pretty decent looking, you know… for an older guy,” at that moment, he was the still most gorgeous thing I had ever laid eyes on.

“So, most importantly, what do you think of the hair?” he said with a big smile, primping and patting it down on the sides. It sounds superficial, I know, but I had been a little concerned about his hair. It was already longer the last time I saw him in August, and he warned me he hadn’t cut it all since. Brooke told me that it looked absolutely terrible. It drove her nuts the way he was always messing with it, but I was pleasantly surprised that he looked really cute, almost boyish, in a way. He had a lot of product in there, for sure, but I loved the little black and gray curls peeking out around his ears. It was very European. If it got much longer than that, he was going to need a haircut. He definitely looked better with the shorter, more buzzed cut I was used to. But I could deal with the novelty of this for the sole purpose of running my fingers through it. “I like it actually,” I replied. “I didn’t think I was going to, but it does have its charm. It kind of makes you look foreign, don’t you think?”

“Oh good. I like it like this for a change. It’s kind of a pain to keep up with though.”

“When are you going to cut it?”

“Not until after the conference,” he said. “I want to cause a stir.”

“What?! Are you kidding me? Matthew, that’s in February!”

“I know!” He got that twinkle in his eye, “Can you imagine how long it will be by then? I’m going to get a little ponytail going and wear it to the awards ceremony.”

“Over my dead body you will. I’ll cut it myself before I let you go in there looking like a damn idiot,” I laughed, a little nervously. We had planned on spending the next conference together, so I sincerely hoped he was kidding. I couldn’t be sure with him. He did love being the center of attention and making a spectacle of himself.

I noticed him suddenly staring at me, almost confused, like he was giving me the onceover. He sat up and said, “Hey, stand up for a second…” grabbing my arms and lifting them out to the sides, gasping a little as he did.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He ran his hands over my hips and down my thighs and blurted out, “Babe, you are practically disappearing! You don’t need to lose any more weight, Mal. You’re getting too skinny!”

“I know, I know. I’m not trying to, it just kind of happened. Nate was horrified by it, too. I don’t normally see him since we exchange the kids through daycare, but he picked up some stuff from the house the other day and he was like, ‘JESUS, what happened to your boobs?!’”

“Well, he has a point! I especially don’t want you losing those.”

“I know, but it’s not like I can control where it comes off, Matt.”

Now at 144 pounds I was definitely NOT too skinny. But I too was mourning the loss of my boobs which had dropped almost two cup sizes. He didn’t make a big deal about it, but he obviously noticed and probably mourned the loss of them right along with me. I hoped he wasn’t too disappointed. He always told me he preferred thicker women.

“Okay, so… tell me about Miami. What did you think?”

Brooke and I had already told him most of our stories, but he wanted to know what I thought about the city overall. “We liked it a lot, I mean, we had a great time and the beach is gorgeous, of course. But we were both surprised at how 1960’s it still looks down there. It was like being in a time warp. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of new construction like there is at Myrtle Beach.”

“Yeah, I think all the renovating goes on inside. The buildings and the neighborhoods are so well established, but then you go inside and have these incredible open, modern spaces… I love it.”

“It was very cool, but man, I bet it is hot as hell fire in the summertime. I think I would die in the heat. I definitely couldn’t run outside while we were there and it was the end of September!”

“Oh, you’d get used to it.”

“Spoken like a man who wears long sleeves to run in 65 degree weather!” I teased.

“Well, I guess you are just way hotter than me,” he said with a wink.

He was quiet for a moment and I noticed a very faraway look in his eyes. “I love how everything is so busy and trendy down there, and it’s so international. It’s like being in another country.”

“I totally agree. We probably would have had a lot of fun down there together.” I couldn’t resist. I knew that horse was dead, but I was going to keep beating it anyway.

“I know, baby,” he said, grabbing my hands and kissing them. “We will soon, okay? But right now my business is multiplying like crazy down there. I need to find a way to work there at least half of the time, you know?” he added, “I need to get with Ron Lassiter about maybe seeing if I can work out of one of the South Florida branches. I’m missing out on a huge market.”

“That’s great, babe. I’m glad you are doing so well down there. It sounds like you are getting tons of referrals.”

It wasn’t that great though; not for me. I had very mixed feelings about him being down there more often. Geographically, it didn’t matter where he was. He certainly had the means to travel anywhere he needed to go, and of course I wanted him to be happy, ultimately. Moving to Miami would likely mean the end of his marriage, according to him–like a new start. But it still didn’t sit well with me. Maybe it was just my own insecurity, but the idea of him being single down there, out on the beach with all those beautiful women around made me crazy. It’s not like there weren’t hot ladies in every city, but Miami was a different monster entirely. Down there, everyone was toned, tanned, waxed, and high-heeled up to the hilt. They seemed to have sex and money on the brain all the time. I swear all of the women were tall, with legs up to their necks. With all that at his fingertips, and no wife, why would he even bother with Ms. Average Tied-to-Two-Kids in Raleigh, North Carolina anymore? But there was no use in me worrying about it now. Certainly, the idea of him putting me on a plane to come visit him in South Beach on my “off” weekends was a nice fantasy.

But I could never admit that I had these thoughts. I was always very careful to appear easygoing and fun, not wanting him to see me feeling vulnerable or needy. Because for the first time in my life, I was scared a man would leave me. I told him he should do whatever made him happy, and if that meant moving, so be it. He bent forward in his chair to rub my knees and, naturally, I took that as an invitation to jump out of my chair and into his lap, straddling him. That turned out to be a difficult dismount in the tight little denim skirt I was wearing, but he didn’t seem to mind me hiking it up just before I attacked his face with my mouth.

“Well, hi there, Miss Mallory,” he said, half laughing and at the same time trying to kiss me back.

“Hi.”

“Babe, we just got here. You want to rush right into this?” he said, still snickering.

“Yes. Yes, I do. You don’t?”

“Oh, I do, but we haven’t had any wine or anything. I thought we might get some lunch first?”

“I want you for lunch.”

I continued to chomp on his delicious face until he admitted defeat and we moved over to the nearest bed, lying face to face. I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his arms within seconds, moving quickly to remove his undershirt too. I had to get to his chest, and fast. He lifted my shirt over my head as well, leaving behind the periwinkle bra that I knew he liked. I pulled him on top of me, burying my face into him, my skirt bunched up around my waist as the seam of his black jeans slid perfectly up and down against me. I kissed his chest and he groaned, increasing the pressure from his hips. My legs lifted around him and I brought him closer to me as my fingertips dragged down his muscular back.

I wanted him to just take me right there, to rip my underwear off to the side and to want me so badly that we couldn’t even get the rest of our clothes off. His rib cage heaved and his skin grew tight and hot to my touch as I brushed my hands through his soft chest hair. He moaned as I placed my mouth on his nipple while gripping his ass and grinding him hard up against me. He flipped the lining of my bra down and did the same to me, one side at a time. I was practically hyperventilating as I reached down, frantically clawing to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans, pushing his pants and boxers down around his hips with my legs. But something was wrong.

He wasn’t hard. I was confused. I even put my hand around him to make sure, but there was no doubt about it–nothing was happening. He kept kissing me and touching me. He seemed to be in decent spirits and overall good health, but that’s not the sort of thing you can ignore for very long in that state of undress. I didn’t know what to say or if I should say anything at all. I kept looking to him to give me some sort of clue as to how to proceed. He did get a sort of pained expression on his face, but he still played it very cool. He just grabbed my face with his hands and kissed me, saying, “Hey, sweetie. I know you probably won’t love this idea, but do you think we can maybe go grab some food and relax for a while first? I really need to eat.”

Oh… eating… okay. So maybe in older men their erections are directly proportional to their mealtimes. What did I know? I knew I didn’t want to continue lying there making him feel bad about it. So of course I answered, “Sure babe, where do you want to go?” as if nothing was amiss. In my head, I’m ashamed to admit my first thought was,
Well shit, I might lose this bet after all.
My second thought was
Oh God oh God oh Jesus please let this be lack of food related and not because he suddenly realized he doesn’t want me anymore.