sex? That had never been her role. Well...maybe once...
“She’s thinking about it,” said Gail triumphantly. “Look at her eyes!”
“No, no,” Arden protested. “I’m not, I swear!”
But she was. A face from the past had flashed in her mind. There was one time when she’d thrown caution to the wind, taken a chance. She’d played the part of the vixen in a way she’d never done since.
Lida reached up and undid the clip, sending Arden’s hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Red lipstick. Black stiletto heels. We’d have you fixed up in no time.”
“But what if it’s disappointing?” she asked aloud, scarcely able to believe she was even contemplating such a thing.
“Do your research, silly. Don’t just leap into bed with the first Romeo who buys you a drink. Get recommendations.” Gail laughed and thrust her hips back and forth. “You’re looking for Don Juan? Ask around.”
“You’re kidding.” But Arden clearly saw she wasn’t.
“You said yourself, you’re not looking for a relationship. Hell, after a year of no sex, you’re practically a virgin again. Find a guy you like who’ll take the time to do you right.”
Arden chuckled, snagged the clip back from Lida and pinned up her hair. “I don’t know.”
Candace hooted. “C’mon, Arden. Isn’t there anyone you’d like to fuck who isn’t a movie star? The checkout boy at the grocery store maybe, or the UPS guy?”
“Or maybe a certain dirty worker man?”
Arden gasped involuntarily, like Lida had reached straight into her brain and plucked out her deepest, darkest secret. “Lida!”
“He’s still around, you know,” Lida said. “I’ve seen the signs for his business.”
Arden fended off the cries of “Who?” by raising her hands. “That was a long time ago, Lida.”
“Twelve years isn’t that long ago.”
Candace finished blending another batch of strawberry smoothies and passed out fresh cups to all the ladies. “Spill the dirt, Arden. You heard most of my sordid stories earlier tonight. It’s your turn.”
Emboldened by a gulp of the frozen drink, Arden swallowed twice before answering. It couldn’t hurt to tell the story, could it? It had been a long time ago, and a lot had happened since then. “Before I met my husband, I had a fling, I guess you could call it. With a guy named Shane Donner. I met him at a friend’s house and we hit it off.”
It felt like every woman in the room hung on her every word.
“So, what happened?” asked Marla.
Arden feigned a casual attitude she definitely didn’t feel. “We went out for a little while and then it ended.”
“What she means to say is they fucked each other silly!” crowed Lida.
“And after that?” Pam tipped back her cup to get the last of her drink. “You broke up?”
Arden could still smell the scent of the cologne he’d favored. Could still feel the bite of the wind on her cheeks as she’d faced him. Damn, she realized as she sipped her drink, she could still taste him.
“It’s kinda hard to break up something that never really got started. He wasn’t interested in having a girlfriend,” she said with a shrug. “And he made that pretty clear. So I stopped seeing him, and then I met Jason.”
“And loverboy decided she was the greatest thing since sliced bread and tried to hook up with her again. Too bad, so sad.” Lida gave a hearty laugh and slapped her thigh. “Men can be so dumb.”
“So why not look him up now?” Gail refilled her cup.
“Things are different now. Lots different.”
“I think you should call him.” Pam nodded firmly. “Sex good enough to put a blush on your face twelve years later is good enough to look up again.”
“You know, the best sex I ever had was with the computer nerd who came to install my modem,” piped up Marla in a dreamy voice. “The things that man could do with his hard drive…”
The room exploded with laughter, and in another five minutes Arden’s situation was forgotten as the women began swapping stories again. Relieved to no longer be the center of attention, Arden listened and laughed with her newfound friends, and when the party began to break up just as dawn was streaking the sky, she made her slightly bleary way down the street to her own little house and headed straight for bed.
She paused, one hand on the newel post, her eyes going without effort toward the small alcove off the kitchen she’d turned into her home office. The computer was in there, the flat screen iMac that had become her