She was halfway down her second one when Marco asked her to dance.
“Go ahead!” Carla said. “Have some fun.”
Marco was a little on the short side but he had the Italian good looks, and she was ready to dance. He looped an arm low around her hips, and they ground together on the dance floor to techno music and flashing lights in the club.
After a while, sweaty and breathless, they returned to the bar where she finished her drink and had another. He told her about himself, about how he sold vacuum cleaners for his uncle’s company and managed the showroom. She was tipsy enough to find this interesting and hung on his every word. On her fourth drink, or maybe fifth, she had lost count, he asked her what her job was. She admitted she was ‘between jobs’ which sounded better than confessing that she quit work so she could be available for her husband who decided to screw the help instead. That dinner, that fireside dinner she’d planned…it kept taking up space in her mind when she should be lapping up the attention of a man who was actually interested in her, or, at least, her cleavage.
She danced with a couple of other guys, even tried a Nashville hot wing, which tasted even more repulsive than it sounded. Then she returned to Marco. They danced some more, rubbing against each other; her arms draped around his neck. He was exactly her height so when his nose bumped hers and their lips met, it was easy. Not like craning her neck to reach Brandon’s mouth with her own. No standing on tiptoes. No scrabbling for purchase on his clothing, so she didn’t fall over trying to get a kiss. This was so convenient. Because that’s what you want to think about a first kiss…how delightfully convenient that was.
Yeah right.
She drew back with a shake of her head and told him it was time for her to go home. There was no spark. She only thought about her husband. When she told her friends, she was going home, they insisted she go out for breakfast at an all-night restaurant like Denny’s. She declined, but told them it was fun seeing them. They said they’d have to do it again soon.
Marj called a taxi, checked her face in her compact, but she felt like traces of that kiss were everywhere, written all over her. Alcohol and kisses didn’t mix! Hadn’t she learned that already? The last time she got loaded, she got married!
She was doing good for a while. Had even switched to Pepsi when she knew she was buzzing. But that darn Marco and his drinks… His name made her feel guilty.
She schooled herself not to care if Brandon thought she’d been misbehaving, but she did care. When she fumbled her way in, it was about two in the morning. Every light burned in every window. She felt like she’d missed her curfew and really had it coming. Brandon sat on the stairs by the door and got to his feet when she came in.
He met her gaze. “Where have you been…”
“All my life? Well, I’ve been right here, darling husband. Until you cheated on me.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Before you start in on me, let me take off these boots. They look hot but they’re murder,” she said, starting off with a flippant offense.
“This can’t wait!”
“Okay then, go ahead. I’m multi-talented. I can talk, work sliding these boots, and piss you off all at the same time.”
“Our marriage isn’t supposed to be a roller coaster.”
Marj covered her mouth. “It might be because I’m about to throw up.”
“So you went out and got yourself drunk?”
“Maybe just a little. And I called you. I think I called you. Did I call you?”
He crossed his arms. “Marco answered your phone and said you’d be home late.”
Her jaw dropped. “Oh, he’s just a friend I met.”
“Really? Well, I know who he is.”
“Did you have me followed? Hire a private detective to stalk me?”
“No, Marco handed the phone to Beth, and she told me you girls were just hanging out. And then Marco told me you danced with him. Says you dance like an angel.”
Marj bit her lip. She was so busted. “Nothing happened. Just some innocent flirting.”
“I’m disappointed in your behavior. We had an agreement,” he said, taking her arm and propelling her upstairs to the bedroom and shutting the door decisively.
“Was boning your secretary part of the agreement?” she asked. “Because I got the idea there was some wiggle room in the vows considering what I walked in on.”
“You saw an employee in my office.”
“Sitting on your desk with her crotch practically in your face!”
“Holly was, in fact, seated on the desk. We were discussing her reassignment to another division of the company because it hasn’t worked out well with her as my assistant. So you saw an upset employee at her exit interview, and you overreacted and went and did God knows what and probably got yourself photographed and filmed with a dozen other guys so I can lose my dad’s company.”