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As if that could ever happen…
“I went home with that lead singer the other night, had fan-freaking-tastic sex, and it turns out he’s one of my students at the culinary school.” That said, I let out a long breath, then picked up my dirty martini and took a swift drink.
“Yay!” Cass, the third member of our trio, shrieked, startling me with her exuberance.
I gave her the stink eye over my glass.
“What part of what I just said made you think, ‘Yay!’ was an appropriate response?” I asked.
Cass looked at me like I was a moron.
“Um, the part where you went home with that stud from the bar, and finally used your vagina for something good again.”
“How do you use your vagina for something bad?” Ming asked, looking totally serious.
I rolled my eyes at both of them and reiterated, “He’s one of my students, Cass. I could lose my job.”
“Oh, poo,” Cass said, sticking her tongue out. A look that on me would have made me look like a toad, but on her was totally cute. “It’s not like you’re his high school English teacher or something. You’re a grown woman, and he’s a grown man.”
“Well, practically grown, anyway,” Ming said with a smirk.
“Shut up,” I replied, feeling my cheeks warm at the reminder of our age difference.
“It was just a one-night stand, right?” Ming asked, running her finger along the stem of her wine glass as she pondered my dilemma. “Neither of you knew that you were his instructor at the time, and it’s never going to happen again, so … no harm, no foul. I’m sure if you explain the situation, he’ll keep his mouth shut.”
“But what if she wants a repeat performance?” Cass asked, tossing her long caramel-colored hair over her shoulder. “She just said it was great sex, and Ming, she’s finally having some. Why can’t they just keep it on the down low?”
“First,” Ming said, causing me to turn my attention to her. I felt like I was watching a tennis match, with as often as my head was turning back and forth. “No one says down low anymore. Second, a hot piece of ass isn’t worth losing her position … unless,” she began, then turned her focus on me. “He’s more than a hot piece of ass, and you want to explore some sort of relationship with him.”
I blinked at her, then blinked again, unable to come up with an immediate response.
Am I interested in pursuing something further with Brendan? The sex was the best I’d ever had … I can’t deny that, but is there anything else there?
I thought back to our time together, the brief moments when we weren’t engaged in sexual activity, and I could admit that I was intrigued. His loft was cool in a creative/hipster sort of way, and the fact that he was a musician and a chef told me that he was not only creative, but probably had a sensitive side underneath his playboy exterior. I’d watched him embrace his brother on stage, their affection for each other was tangible, so I knew he had the ability to feel things deeply, and express those feelings
… but was it even an option? After our night together, I’d figured that was the end of it, but he had come up to me in my office and given me his number…
The sound of Cass clearing her throat had me coming out of my head and back to the present.
“I feel like you just had an entire conversation in your head and we totally couldn’t hear it.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, then took another drink before saying, “I might be interested in finding out if there’s more between us than just sex, if it wasn’t for the fact that not only is it against school policy, but he’s only, like, gah, twenty-five or something.”
“So what?” Cass asked, her face challenging, and I realized that as someone whose husband was seven years older than her, the age difference wouldn’t be an issue for her.
“It’s different for you, Cass, you’re with an older man,” I said, thinking that explained everything. When her expression didn’t change I clarified, “Women mature faster than men, so you and Geo are mentally the same age.”
“That’s a generalized statement,” Ming said, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Did he act like a moron when you were together? Did he get out his crayons and color at the dinner table?”
Cass bit back a laugh at our friends’ remark, but I just looked at Ming incredulously.
“You can’t think this is a good idea,” I argued, knowing my friend was usually cautious at best when it came to men.
Ming looked up at me through the fringe of her jet-black bangs and said evenly, “I understand your concerns, but, Bronagh, this is the first spark of passion I’ve seen out of you since we graduated high school. Maxime was an asshole of epic proportions. Not only did he cheat on you throughout your marriage, but he treated you like a prized possession, instead of a wife. You’ve dedicated your life to food, and that’s great, it’s wonderful that you’re doing what you love, but Nonie, there’s more to life than work.”
I quirked my eyebrow at her, causing her to smile for the first time that evening. Answering my unspoken response she added, “I know … says the workaholic, but you aren’t me, and you deserve to find some happiness. Maybe an affair with the gorgeous young singer slash chef will bring that light back into your eyes.”
I returned her smile, then laughed when Cass added, “Yeah, and the naughty factor doesn’t hurt. Have fun, do something bad, you deserve to let loose. Besides, you’re only thirty-five, not eighty … And you’re sexy as hell!”
