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Nooo. Please no. Don't tell me sexy guy is one of Mellie's old flames. She's already had her second chance love. She shouldn't get to steal my fantasy boyfriend.
“I did, went up to San Fran right out of college – Melissa, Er?”
He's reaching back in time for her name. In a voice of honey melting over sun-baked grit. I have to admit it's good to see he doesn’t remember her and I don’t mean that in a mean way.
“Melody, Mellie Pitt,”
“Right. Mellie Pitt,” he purrs, his voice smooth but with raspy bits.
I can tell he hasn't a clue who she is. His gaze wanders across to me like he read my mind, then snaps away.
“Wallis now, actually, Todd and I got married in the end.”
“Todd Wallis?”
“That's it. You were on the team together. I remember you were scouted by the forty-niners.”
Christ, he went to school with Dad and Mellie. He remembers my father from when they were my age which makes him – damn. But he looks so much younger than dad. Up close I see there are small crinkles around his eyes and a slight indent of smile lines but everything about him reads youthful, adventurous and so damn hot.
The momentary flush of girlish crushing that brushed at my skin is replaced by full on lusting. It isn't wrong to be attracted to a man the same age as my father. Attraction is based on a person, not their age or their looks. Although in Jared Helmsley's case the looks department is definitely a deciding influence. He's a pro footballer too from the sounds of it.
“You must come over for dinner,” Mellie's saying. “Todd would love to catch up on the old days.”
For a second he looks like he's going to refuse. His mind searching for an excuse to wriggle out of the invite but then Jared's eyes snap back to me. He tries to repress another smile and then murmurs an agreement in the voice that makes my pores tingle. All wet cement and filthy mechanics covered in oil. Oh crap, I am really losing it here.
“Sure, sounds good,” he rasps.
His gaze that had returned to Mellie, once again trawls back to me. This time he takes me in with a glance across my body and I can see despite the unflattering sweatshirt I'm wearing that makes me look like Santa's sack, he isn't disappointed. My clit starts thumping with the pleasure delivered by Jared Helmsley's appreciation.
“I'm at the Art Hotel. Give me a call,” he adds.
And just as I'm planning my next fantasy of dropping by his hotel one evening to hang out in the cocktail lounge, he's said goodbye to my step-mom and melted away into the crowds.
I turn to Mellie with a what the? face plastered on and notice she's as flushed pink as I am. We're both flustered but I guess in her case the peri-menopausal thing doesn't allow for any camouflage. It's clear she's totally hot for Jared Helmsley.
“So who was that?” I inquire.
