How funny. We used to have such a wild and tumultuous sex life. I didn't know where we went wrong but I had the love, the lust, the life in me with him. I think he just had the lust throughout our short marriage. In the end, he also lost the lust. But those days in the sac with my husband were one of the happiest moments in my life. I loved Peter with all my heart. I meant my vow with all my might. Our wedding day was a fairytale. Peter was so handsome and I was so proud to be in his arms. I was so proud that he was mine. I felt like I had it all. Not only did I score me a gorgeous man for a husband, he was also a successful young executive who drove a shiny black Maserati. When he walked away from our marriage, I felt my whole world crumbled upon me. All of a sudden I lost it all.
Yet, it's a story for another day. What I wanted to remember now was the lingerie. The soft satin lacy lingerie that never fails to make me feel sexy. At times, I miss dating just so that I have an excuse to wear it. I've been wearing my collection almost daily to bed. But then again, it's so sacrilegious that I have been wearing them to bed and it stayed on me all night long. That's just not right - for me and for the lingerie. Gosh, how I miss a man slipping his finger under the thin strap and let it fall down from my shoulder. How I miss feeling his strong hand replacing that strap on my neck as he caresses my skin softly, whispering sweet nothing to my ear. How I miss smelling that musky masculine scent, as goose bumps forming on my arms feeling his cleanly shaven cheek brushing my side softly. How I miss feeling his lips nibbling my ear in the next instant. I miss it like you wouldn't believe.
I never cease to love buying lingeries. It gives me hope that someday I'll be wearing it for someone special, someone who will take it off of me and obliterate it to bits if he chooses. I stood there in my office kitchen as I was steeping my tea, totally daydreaming of Nigel taking off my lacy undies off of me. I remember when he told me in Napa how he couldn't imagine me in my undies to settle his nerve before a speech. Hahaha. Now, I was the one who totally thinking dirty thoughts about him doing the nasty with me. Yet, I felt so not sexy today in my roll-off-the-bed get up.
How didn't I know he would be in town? Nigel lives in New York City and he comes to Chicago only once in awhile for meetings or events. I don't get to see him very often at all and I wish I knew when he'd be in town. At least I would dress appropriately and presentably. I guess I could have changed and asked Vic's help. God knows she has enough wardrobes on loan in the Fashion Department.
I didn't know how the lingerie got onto my mind. After seeing Nigel in the hallway for a split second, it was enough to evoke those sexy feelings within me. God, how I wanted him in my bed naked. I wonder if he felt the same way. Women's intuition always give you a good indication of who has a crush on you. You didn't know how you knew, but you just knew. I felt that vibe so strong from him. I knew he was trying to be professional since he happened to be my married boss. But he couldn't lie with his eyes. He couldn't lie with the way he talked to me. I loved it when I realized his eyes followed my move. I loved it when he laughed when I said something funny even though the others didn't. I loved it when he touched me when he talked to me. I loved all his gestures. Yet, I really don't know for sure what he feels about me. I wish I knew.
But for what? Like Vic said - he's not available. I didn't know how Vic knew. I didn't know myself whether it is love what I feel for Nigel. Yet, it has given me this warm glow each time he entered my mind. It has given me a knot in my stomach every time my eyes caught the sight of him. It has given me such a pleasure in my ear when I heard his voice. My whole body responded to him supported with strong doses of endorphin and pheromones all at once. It's just simply the best feeling in the world. The only other thing that could top it is if we could actually consummate it and he feels the same way too.
Except for one big exception.
Mrs. Gallagher.
That woke me up and l looked at my over brewed tea. I quickly threw the bag away, grabbed the bagel, and walked back to the conference room.
My phone beeped. Oh...email.
From Nigel. Huh?
"Sabrina -
Ever heard of Goose Foot? Heard it's a good new restaurant in Chicago.
Nigel"
So, I replied...
"Nigel,
Yes, of course. What type of food editor would I be if I didn't know? I actually took my dear friend, Bobbie there to celebrate her scoring a role in the ballet of Don Quixote. It was quite good! Why did you ask? Are you planning to dine there? Let me know and I can arrange.
Sab"
I got to the conference room, and beeped...my phone again. It was Nigel again.
"Ah. I thought I was quite terrific if I could give you a lead. What do I know. What I did know was I have the best food editor working for my magazine. Your friend is a ballerina? That's WAY too cool."
Nigel Gallagher - the aristocratic English gentleman who lives in the Upper West Side of Manhattan just wrote me a line - "That's WAY too cool." I actually raised an eye brow.
So I wrote him back.
"Yes, she is. She's a marvelous dancer. I agree it's definitely WAY too cool. :)"
I don't get these back and forth chatters with Nigel. Don't tell me this wasn't flirty. He kept it simple and professional, but there was only one reason why he was doing it. The reason wasn't for professional reason.
I showed Vic his emails. Vic gave me an evil eyes.
"What did I tell ya?" She said.
"He wrote me first." I said. "I saw him in the hallway, and I didn't say a word except hi." I said.
"Don't give me that look, Victoria." I said. "besides, it's innocent enough."
"That's where it all started, sweetheart." Vic said. "Believe me, I know." she said.
Vic should also be the love editor. Nuh, scrap that. She knows nothing about love. I'm actually the hopeless romantic amongst my friends. Vic might have a long list of experiences in her resume and references for relationships, dating, and heartbreaking - but love, isn't one of her forte. In fact, she is terrified by the chance she actually can be happy with just one guy.
Guys love Victoria. What's not to love like I said before? Most of them would feel so lucky if Vic even gives them a single gaze. She really has no business being in the background. She could be front and center. She was a model when she was younger. She did her share of runway jobs in Milan, Paris, and New York. But her first love was magazine. She quit early on to focus on being a fashion editor. She has so many contacts from her modeling days and she's done great for herself. The only thing she sucks at doing is to accept that it can be enough - that HE can be enough.
She constantly yearns to find someone who is better than her and will not settle for less. Yet, when she found someone that made her literally in the state of euphoria, she immediately would find something wrong with him. Next thing, it's over. It works so precise - just like clock work.
While here's me - I would just be so happy if I found one guy that would love me sincerely. I used to aim quite high too. Emma told me my standard was as high as Victoria when it comes to men. That's just so not true. I have lowered my expectations from year to year. Peter to me was right up there. He was a little better than me in everything. Sure thing - of course you wanted that in a partner. Someone who you can look up to and be proud of. Now, I just want someone at my level, as long as I don't have to carry him.
Emma thought I would only date hot guys. Funny because some of the guys I have dated recently I thought weren't that hot to begin with. They just became better looking to me after I fell in love with them. But my married friend, Emma Brent, disagreed.
"You think that's not hot?" She said. "He has a chiseled face." Emma said. "If I'm not married, I'll be glad taking your leftovers."
"Well, of course I think he's good looking. If not, I wouldn't be attracted to him. But that wasn't the reason why I'm dating him!" I said. "It wasn't because of his face." I said.
"Don't date a cop." Emma said. "It's too high risk. I don't care how great his personality is or how chiseled his body will be too under that uniform." Emma added. "I can't imagine if the door bell rang, and someone informed me that John is killed."
"Emma.."
"I wouldn't know what to do if that ever happens." She said.
"That will never happen." She rolled her eyes. "We're all going to die someday." She said.
"Glad you're realistic, but let's not talk about it today as it won't happen. Not today." I said.
"Don't date the cop." Emma said.
"Uh..Emma...I like Jax." I said. "I'm gonna have to take the risk." I said.
I still remember those days a couple years ago with Detective Jax Weston of Chicago PD. How I also had a great time wearing my la perla for my hot police officer and handcuffing him to my bed. But again, he hurt me royally. I should have listened to Emma. Though she was warning me for the fact I could have lost him from him getting killed on the job. Funny how life could twist everything. I lost him nonetheless, and not because he got killed. It was because he was a fucking prick.
Going up and down on the social ladder. I still don't know if I did it correctly, not aiming so high like Vic or just accepting whoever life brought to me and hoped for the best. I thought if you didn't aim too high and opened your eyes, you might be able to discover a diamond in the rough. We all need to give people a chance. Everybody deserves a chance even if they're not Brad Pitt. But at times, pricks are everywhere in the social ladder. There are plenty up there. There are plenty below. I should be safe in the middle. However, I seem to find the wandering pricks who are lost south of the middle.
