by E. K. Blair
“Mrs. Garrison, good to see you,” Mark, a student at Boston University who has worked here for the past two years, greets.
“You too. How’s school going?”
“It’s going,” he groans with a hint of a smile. “Only one more semester until I graduate.”
He slips into my car, and after I congratulate him, he shuts the door and drives off. Walking into the restaurant, I’m greeted by the hostess, who then leads me to the lounge area and seats me at the bar before going to get Landon.
“Tori,” Chelsea says from behind the bar. “Landon said you’d be coming up, but I didn’t believe him.”
“I know. I’ve been really busy lately.” There was a time when I used to come around more often, but with the girls and my busy travel schedule, it’s been months since I’ve been here.
Chelsea sets a cocktail napkin in front of me. “The usual?”
“Please.”
I watch her as she makes my drink, looking fabulous in a black shift dress and high heels. She’s tall and fit with bright blonde hair that makes me miss being in my mid-twenties. What I wouldn’t give to have perky boobs and a face free from emerging wrinkles. Most of the time I feel young, but when I’m around girls like her, I feel old.
“So . . .” she says, stringing out the word as she sets down the lemon drop martini. “I finally got around to reading your last book.”
I pick up the glass and take a sip.
“All I can say is Landon hit the jackpot with you.”
I practically choke as I swallow the alcohol and try not to laugh. “Don’t believe everything you read.”
She laughs quietly and shakes her head, saying, “I mean, I thought I was kinky, but you have me beat by a long shot.”
I laugh along with her as I take another sip and will the vodka to curb my embarrassment. If she only knew how boring my sex life actually is. Landon and I are anything but kinky. We are so predictable, going through the same routine of motions each time we have sex. It’s pretty standard and boring, but what can you expect after being with someone for as long as we’ve been? I’d never admit that to anyone aside from Brooke, so I go along with Chelsea’s illusion of me and instead of denying, I opt for coy silence.
“Hi, honey. I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Landon says before giving me a sweeping kiss.
“I just got here,” I respond.
Chelsea gives me a wink before walking away to serve an older couple at the other side of the bar.
“What’s that about?”
“She read my latest book and now worships me as a sexual goddess,” I quip.
He laughs it off.
“How were the girls when you picked them up from school?”
“Good,” I respond as we go into our usual line of questioning and conversation, which is just as predictable as our sex life. Next, he’s going to ask me about work.
“Did you get a lot of work done today?”
“I got in around three thousand words.”
“That’s good,” he says.
“How has your day been?”
“Not too bad.”
We continue with our idle chitchat when one of the servers brings us our food, which Landon had previously told the kitchen to prepare for us.
“You know, I was thinking. We should get away, just the two of us.”
“When? You’re always traveling,” he says before taking a bite of his swordfish.
“Why don’t you come with me to one of the signings and we can extend our stay?”
“That sounds doable,” he responds halfheartedly as he takes another bite.
I reach out and touch his arm to get his attention, and when he looks at me, I stress, “I’m serious, Landon. We need to take some time for us. Lately, it’s been nothing but kids and work.”
He pushes his plate out of the way and takes my hand in his. “You look amazing,” he says as he looks at me—his first real look since I got here, finally slowing down enough to notice the navy, pencil-skirt dress and strappy nude heels I’m wearing.
His eyes are shadowed in exhaustion as he sits here in his white chef coat, and I see how worn down he is. “You’ve been working so much lately,” I tell him softly. “I miss you.”
“I just need to get through next week and then I’ll be home more.”
“You need to take care of yourself.”
He cradles my cheeks in his hands as we face each other. “Do you know how much I love you?”
I nod.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been home much, but don’t doubt that you and the girls are my life.”
“I’ve never doubted you—”
“Excuse me, chef,” Chelsea interrupts. “Damon is on the phone for you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I watch Landon as he walks into the back and then turn to my dinner that I’ve hardly touched. His words echo in my head, and as sweet as they are, they are said all too often. The thing is, if it isn’t his work pulling him away, then it’s mine. We are both filled with excuses and apologies and words to soothe, but we’ve yet to find ourselves on the same page in life. I tell myself that maybe it’s supposed to be this way, that this is adulthood. I’m not foolish enough to believe life can ever go back to the way it used to be when we first met, but I guess I never thought the spark that once lived within me would die such an early death.
I make attempts to reignite us. Like tonight, wearing a pair of designer heels that are much too expensive, slipping into this dress that covers a sexy black lace thong, and taking my time to apply the perfect smoky eye. But he didn’t even notice until I forced him to look at me. Maybe the spark within him has burned out as well. Maybe it’s an inevitable part of marriage, and all those couples who claim to still have the wild burning fire are full of shit.
Landon reemerges from the back. “I’m sorry. I have to cut this short and get back to work.”
“We haven’t even finished our food.” I try my best to contain my annoyance, but my voice pitches regardless.
“I’m not that hungry anyway.”
He’s totally missed the point.
“Take your time and enjoy your dinner. I’ll be home around midnight.”
And with that, he gives me a kiss and returns to the kitchen, leaving me to finish our date on my own.
“Another martini?” Chelsea asks as she clears Landon’s dishes.
“Thanks, but I should get going.”
On the drive home, I turn up the music and blast it through the speakers to help alleviate my sour mood. The hassle of having Brooke watch the kids, the effort I put into my appearance, and the hope of having a nice dinner with my husband now feel like an utter waste.
“How was your date?” Brooke asks from the couch in the living room when I walk into the house.
I kick off my heels before falling back onto a chair with an annoyed huff.
“What happened?”
“He ditched me halfway through dinner and left me sitting there like a desperate housewife.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t bother asking.” Brooke doesn’t respond, but I can feel her eyes on me, and after a beat passes, I look over to her and ask, “Do you think I need Botox?”
“Girl, you started needing it last year,” she jokes and then shifts to a more serious tone. “What’s going on?”
Slumped down in the chair, I roll my head to look at her, and admit, “It’s been almost a month.”
“Oh.” Her voice is a mixture of surprise and sympathy. Or maybe it’s pity. “And you think it’s because he doesn’t find you attractive?”
“Hell if I know.”
“Don’t do this to yourself. You’re both so busy. It’s not surprising that you’re going through a dry spell. Everyone does.”
“Even you?”
“Tori, life isn’t like the books you write. I mean, maybe it is at first, but you and Landon have been together forever. You can’t expect to be jumping each other’s bones fiv
e times a day. You have kids, jobs, and a crazy travel schedule. Life is messy, and you can’t compare reality to fiction because you’ll always wind up disappointed.” She then stands and grabs her purse.
“You’re leaving?”
“I need to be up early in the morning. Ryder’s school is having a special donut breakfast for the parents and I can’t be showing up in my gym clothes next to all those fancy working moms in their stylish clothes and perfectly manicured fingernails,” she says with snarky attitude. “Plus, you need to spend some quality time with your vibrator tonight.”
“Why do I bother confiding in you?”
“Because you love my honesty.”
I stand and walk Brooke to the door. “Thanks for watching the kids tonight.”
“Any time.”
When I’m showered and in my pajamas, I skip the vibrator and crawl into bed with my laptop. I open up my manuscript to do a quick read through, but it doesn’t take long for me to get sidetracked, and soon I’m cleaning out my download folder. I go through and click open the files I don’t recognize, and before I know it, I come across the photo Alec sent me the other day.
After our conversation ended so weirdly, I never messaged him back. I’ve been so wrapped up in writing that I haven’t even checked my personal email account to see if he’s sent me a message. So when I log out of my author email and log into my personal account, I scroll through to find that I have no waiting messages.
I decide to kill a little time and see if he’s online, because I can’t deny that he’s entertaining to talk to. I sign in to my FetLife account and go to the private message page to find that his icon is lit up green, signifying his online status. I scroll back through our previous conversation before deciding to send a message.
ANONYMOUS: You there?
His response comes a couple minutes later.
ALEC107: I was wondering if I’d hear from you again.
ANONYMOUS: I’ve been busy. Deadlines and all.
ALEC107: Writing?
ANONYMOUS: Yes.
ALEC107: Anything good?
ANONYMOUS: Of course. I’m writing it, so it’s all good! LOL!
ALEC107: When are you going to tell me the name you write under so I can have the pleasure of reading some of your work?
ANONYMOUS: Why do you want to read my work?
ALEC107: For the same reason you decided to message me tonight.
ANONYMOUS: Which is?
ALEC107: Curiosity.
ANONYMOUS: You think I’m curious about you?
ALEC107: How many times have you thought about me in the past few days since we last spoke?
I hesitate before responding because I’m not sure how to. If I tell him the truth, he might assume something it’s not. Because I have thought about him, but only from the natural, human instinct one experiences when they come into contact with someone new. And yeah, I am curious about him, who wouldn’t be? He’s a total mystery and completely opposite of who I am when it comes to intimate lifestyle.
ANONYMOUS: I’ve thought about you at least once, which is why we’re talking.
ALEC107: Are you embarrassed to admit the truth, that I’ve crossed your mind every day, multiple times?
ANONYMOUS: Are you wanting me to feed your ego or something?
ALEC107: Just wanting the truth.
ANONYMOUS: Ask me something else then.
ALEC107: You ever been married?
He catches me off guard at the mere assumption that I’m currently single, but then again, he did find me on a fetish website. To him, I can be anything . . . anyone. A smile crawls onto my lips as I think about what type of game I want to play here. I’m a blank canvas that I can paint however I desire. For the first time ever, I get to be the character in my own fantasy land.
ANONYMOUS: No. I’ve never been married. You?
ALEC107: No.
ANONYMOUS: Wow. 41 years old and never married. That must mean one thing.
ALEC107: ???
ANONYMOUS: You’re stubborn and set in your ways.
ALEC107: I could say the same about you. 32 and never married.
ANONYMOUS: Touché. Kids?
ALEC107: No. You?
ANONYMOUS: No.
I lie as my kids are actually sound asleep upstairs in their beds.
ALEC107: Do you want any?
ANONYMOUS: If I met the right man, yes. What about you?
ALEC107: I’ve always wanted kids. But I’m 41, single, and apparently stubborn, so I’m doubtful it’ll happen. ;)
His humor makes me laugh, and I play into my act when I respond.
ANONYMOUS: Maybe we are destined to be forever alone.
ALEC107: Are you lonely?
ANONYMOUS: At times . . . yes.
My words are truth. Most people associate loneliness with being alone, but no matter how full my life is, there are times when I do feel very isolated. Just like tonight. This house may be filled with love and happiness, the pictures on the walls prove my full life, but here I am in the silence—lonely.
ALEC107: When was the last time you were with someone?
I think for a moment about how I want to answer.
ANONYMOUS: Almost a year since my last relationship.
ALEC107: I meant sexually.
ANONYMOUS: You’re invasive with your questions. Why on earth would I tell you when the last time I had sex was?
ALEC107: Why not?
ANONYMOUS: When was the last time you had sex?
ALEC107: Yesterday.
ANONYMOUS: Yesterday? I thought you were single.
ALEC107: I am.
ANONYMOUS: So you just have random sex?
ALEC107: Yes. But you should know that if you’ve read my profile.
I click on his picture, which takes me to his profile so I can re-read. I come across Play Parties and Swinging noted on his list of fetishes and then click back to our message screen.
ANONYMOUS: Swinging? I though that was married couples swapping partners with other married couples.
ALEC107: It can be, but not typically.
ANONYMOUS: And what exactly are Play Parties? Is that part of the whole “swinging” thing?
ALEC107: Yes and no. It’s a mixture of couples and also singles who like to have sex while people watch.
ANONYMOUS: Do you know these people you hook up with?
ALEC107: Not all the time. Boston is a large city with lots of play clubs, so while I usually go for anonymity, I do occasionally find myself with a repeat.
I sit back against the headboard of my bed and stare at his message—stunned. I never thought of myself as a lily-white traditionalist, but now I question how sheltered I am. The fact that I’ve lived here my whole life and have never even known that these clubs existed. Again, I just assumed this was something left for the movies and for books to titillate hidden fantasies that we all have. And here I am, talking to a living, breathing person who walks in the darkness that intrigues me and inspires the stories I write. This guy embodies all that I try to convey on the pages of my books. No longer do I have to guess at the type of man who indulges in this lifestyle. I’m talking to the real thing. Kristen was right when she told me about this site—it’s a great place for research.
ALEC107: Are you okay?
ANONYMOUS: Yes. Just digesting. To be honest with you, I didn’t know these places actually existed. I know that makes me sound naïve.
ALEC107: You’re not naïve, Victoria.
ANONYMOUS: Can I ask you something personal?
ALEC107: Only if I can ask something personal in return.
ANONYMOUS: I feel like I’m being setup, but I’ll take the bait. So, my question: Why do you like unattached sex with random people?
As I wait for his response to come through, I think about the cliché reasons that I often write about and also what my other author friends write. It’s usually a man with a dark past: abuse, death of a loved one, or just your typical bad boy. In books, there is always a reason f
or the behavior and there’s always a girl that cures said behavior, and by the time you reach the ending, the guy is monogamous and head over heels in love.
ALEC107: For as far back as I can remember, I’ve had a copious sex drive. When I was young and discovered masturbation, I couldn’t get enough. I would jerk off every morning in the shower before school and often at night too. As I grew older, I never found myself in many relationships, and after a few failed ones, I found it easier to leave the strings cut from sexual partners. I want sex without expectations of preconceived standards most traditional women have of the men they sleep with. Sex is just that—sex. It’s a basic animal instinct that society has built a hedge of morals and values around. But it’s just sex. If I wanted true intimacy, then I would be in a relationship. Until I find a woman worthy of the stress relationships bring, I just want to indulge in my lascivious ways, get off, and go home.
And there it is—an unapologetic explanation without an underlying tragic past. A man who likes casual sex because he just does.
ANONYMOUS: Do you even want a relationship or are you content with your life as it is now?
ALEC107: I’m very content with my life. I’m not out purposely seeking a relationship, but if I found the right woman, I wouldn’t be opposed to settling down with her. Like I said before, I’ve always wanted children, so of course I want to eventually find myself in a relationship. I just don’t believe that’s something one can achieve with the mindset that we can actively make happen. I prefer a more organic approach.
ANONYMOUS: What will be, will be.
ALEC107: Exactly.
ANONYMOUS: I can appreciate that.
ALEC107: My turn to ask the question.
ANONYMOUS: Go easy on me.
I smile in anticipation of what he will want to know about me, and when his question pops up on the screen, I instantly blush.
