One night stand with my daddy's best friend
121

BECCA

"'Sup bitch!"

"How did the interview go?"

"Ugh."

"That good, eh?"

"It was a freakin' disaster." "Tell me everything."

I was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. The room had remained untouched since I moved away to college. My cheesy boy band posters were still on the walls. At one end of the room were my sports trophies from school, piled high in a pyramid so they took up an entire wall to themselves. On the other end were all my sketchbooks and diaries, meticulously filed away in chronological order. Nobody had really seen any of them, not even Dad. Only Janey had seen some of my drawings and poetry I'd created in the privacy of my own room when I couldn't sleep.

Everything I penned was about my mom, and I saw my art journals and diaries as a way to communicate with her, saying all the things I couldn't. The juxtaposition of the diaries on one end of the room and the trophies on the other was a stark contrast that portrayed the binary opposites of my personality. Competitive, sporty, and practical at one of the spectrum and soft, creative, and sensitive at the other.

Between the two sat my bed where I lay now, commiserating as I stared into Justin Timberlake's eyes.

"I fucked up," I told Janey. "I was so nervous that I tried to pretend I was all confident and ended up coming across as a total douche."

"Shut up. I bet you didn't."

"No, I really did. I basically went in, sat down, and told him how I could make his company better. I mean seriously! Could I be any more embarrassing?"

"But that's what you wanted to do, wasn't it? Tell him all about your ideas for the company, right?"

"Yeah, but not like that." "So what did he say?" "That he'd be in touch." "That's it?"

"That's it," I said. "He'd be in touch. That basically means no, right?" I asked.

Janey was ominously silent. "Not exactly," she eventually said.

"Give me a break. That's exactly what it means. If he wanted to give me a job, he would have been like 'awesome, you start tomorrow'. But no. He couldn't have shown me the door quick enough."

"You're probably looking too much into it," Janey said. "I bet it went fine. You're worrying about nothing." She scoffed. "You're always like this. If you don't get things perfect the first time you start freaking out." "That's true. But I just can't shake the feeling I messed up."

"So what? Everyone messes up from time to time." "Not me."

That wasn't exactly true. No one was right all the time. But generally, I threw myself headfirst into a task with as much energy as I could gather and gave it my all. Sometimes,

my over enthusiasm would bite me on the ass, like the interview with Matthew. He probably thought I was a cocky bitch, strutting in there and telling him to change demographics and target new audiences. "Okay, but enough about the interview," Janey said, interrupting my thoughts. "Is he as hot as you remembered?"

"Oh, my God, he's like ten times hotter! Seriously, the second I walked in there, my heart was beating like a hummingbird's. Age has treated him well," I told her, sighing longingly. "He's got to be one of those mythical people who look better the older they get. He even has these little gray hairs poking out the sides of his temples, and they are just frigging adorable."

"Oooh, like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman?" "He's ten times hotter than Richard Gere."

But there was something else I'd noticed about his appearance. The last time I'd seen him, he was a bouncing ball of energy and ambition, and although at the interview he presented himself as his usual alpha self with an iron disposition, there was a hint of exhaustion behind his eyes. Like he was jaded by life. Like he needed to get the hell out the o ce and have some fun.

I could show him a good time, I thought. He could do with a young thing like me to zap that tiredness right out of him. And I sure as shit wouldn't mess him around like that bitch Olivia did.

"So when do you think you'll get your answer from him?" Janey asked.

"Who knows," I sighed. "It could be next week or next month. Either way, not knowing is driving me nuts."

"I reckon you should just forget all about it for a night." "How the hell am I supposed to do that? I can't think

about anything else."

"By coming out with me and Harry," she proposed. "Come on. We'll hit a few bars, head to the clubs, dance the night away."

"Hmmm...I dunno."

"Aw come on! You used to love going out dancing. Just you and me and the dance floor."

"Yeah, but it's not just you and me anymore, is it? Harry will be there."

"Do I detect a touch of bitterness in your voice?"

"Not at all. I'm just saying I'll be a total third wheel all night."

"Aw, don't be like that. Come out with us. It'll be fun and we can play matchmaker for you."

"No. You're always trying to hook me up with guys."

"I just want you to be happy!" Janey moaned. "I mean, what's wrong with you getting a boyfriend?"

"I have absolutely zero time for a boyfriend right now." "You've been saying that for months!" she grumbled.

"You need to learn to have a little fun. I'm not saying you have to get into some serious relationship. But what's wrong with just fooling around?"

Nothing, except fooling around wasn't my style.

In college I'd had a few boyfriends, if you could even call them that. We'd hang out, go on a few dates, and maybe share a few kisses, but that's as far as it went.

The truth was that I just hadn't met anyone I truly connected with, and as for all the passion and fire in my loins I was supposed to feel, no guy I'd met had caused any of that.

As far as Janey and all my other friends were concerned, I was a regular young woman with the normal needs and urges I was expected to have. What they didn't know was that even though I had just had my twenty-third birthday, and although I had grown accustomed to receiving my fair share of male attention, I was actually a virgin.

It wasn't something I sat down and made a decision about, and it definitely wasn't for religious or moral reasons. Put simply, I just hadn't met anyone who rang my bell the way Matthew always had. Maybe it was stupid to wait for someone who turned me on the way he did, but I'd done it anyway. I was worth that, wasn't I?

"Let's meet for lunch tomorrow," I said. "And you and Harry have a great time tonight."

"Sure I can't tempt you to come out?"

I was still staring at the ceiling but wasn't focused on a thing. In my mind I was thinking of Matthew and how good he looked in his suit. And how domineering and in control he appeared in his luxurious o ce.

"Not tonight," I replied.

"Booo. If you change your mind, text me." "I will. Have a good night. Love ya."

I hung up and imagined Matthew's face above me, his solid, muscular body weighing me down. My hand made its way south, my fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my jeans. As I remembered all those fantasies I'd had as a teenager, all those times I'd lain exactly like this with my hand between my legs thinking of him. I thought I'd never replace anyone as sexy as him.