Page 3 of Date with A D*ck

“Excuse me,” I called out to the server.

“Yes ma’am.”

“What time do you close?”

“In about an hour,” he tells me, scurrying to the kitchen presumably to grab someone’s order. The reservation was a later one and I have been here longer than I realized. I finish up my desert and my server come over to clear the table and leave me the bill.

“There seems to be a mistake with my bill,” I tell Daniel.

“Ma’am?”

“The sundae was comped?”

“Oh yes, the chef and owner took care of it for you.”

“But why?”

“I can ask him to stop by your table if you would like to ask him,” Daniel says looking flustered by my questions.

“No, no, that’s not necessary,” I tell him, sliding my card into the check presenter and handing it to Daniel. As he goes to run my card I think back on the brief interaction with the chef and my body has another reaction just from the thought of him. The hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise, causing me to lookaround to see what is causing it and lock eyes with the man of my dreams or should I say X-rated fantasies. He’s talking to another guest but looking directly at me, the wolfish smile he gives me sends a full-body shiver through me from across the packed restaurant. I was having second thoughts about fucking this man but the look he gave me pushed me right on over the fence tohell yes! I am.

My husband crosses my mind and I ruthlessly shove his ass to the back because once again, He. Left. Me! So why should I feel guilty for what I’m thinking about doing? Because I still love him that’s why, despite what he has done to me, but fuck that! He will not hold me hostage, and I will not sit around like a wounded bird, writing affirmations, and journaling to heal. I am going to heal like they did back in the day. If you want to get over one man you get under another one! And I have locked in on who I will be over, under, in front of, and behind and any other position we can think of tonight. Daniel returns with my receipt and card. I sign, leaving him a cash tip, slide out of the booth, and head to the restrooms before I take the almost hour-long trek back home.

As I zig zag through the tables I notice that the restaurant has cleared out a lot and only a few patrons remain. Good, I won’t have to wait long for him to leave. Hopefully, I will be going home with him, or a nearby hotel, but if not, I will drive home and have a lackluster night with my battery-operated boyfriend.

The bathroom is beautiful and clean, each stall is complete with its own sink, like several mini bathrooms. Just as I close the door my phone rings. Hurriedly I fish my headphones out of my clutch and slide one in my ear. “Hello,”

“Where are you?” the voice asks.

“EJ?”

“The one and only,”

“I’m out to dinner,”

“With Henrique?”

“Fuck him,” I reply before I can stop myself. I haven’t told my friends or family that I came home to a dear Jane letter.

“Huh?” She is obviously confused by my response.

“Nothing,” I say as I relieve my bladder.

“Keke, are you and Henrique okay? I never heard you say that about him,”

“It is too much to talk about,”

“Please don’t make me ping your location and roll up on you! So, make it easy on yourself,”

Ugh, I hate her.But I know it’s a lie as soon as I think the thought. “Well... I guess if you are not going to let this go, I’ll just tell you.” And I proceed to tell her what has been happening in my life in the past few weeks. And just like I expected her to, she cussed me out.

“I really should pull your location and come beat your ass! For one of the smartest people I know, you are really dumb sometimes. You didn’t have to go through this alone!”

“I know that EJ, but I needed a moment okay, before I had to explain and have someone make me go back over my marriage with a fine-tooth comb to try to figure out what I did to drive my husband away. I needed a damn minute!” I am breathing hard when I go quiet and EJ is just as quiet on the other end of the phone.

“Have we hit sixty seconds yet?”

“I think I am still at fifty-seven,”

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