Sex and the Social Network (5 page)

Arielle was up before the crack of dawn, hungry and ready to play. Ugh, all I wanted to do was sleep. I convinced her to watch a Barney video in bed with me so I could get a few more winks. Twenty-two minutes later, Barney was over, and she was whining that she was hungry.

“Okay, okay, I’m getting up.” We walked down to the kitchen and I rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator. I couldn’t find a thing to eat. “Hey sweetie, I have an idea. Let’s go out for donuts.”

“Yay!” Arielle jumped up and down. “I love donuts.”

“Okay, love. Run and up and bring me an outfit so I can get you dressed.” She skipped up the stairs, which gave me a chance to change into my black yoga pants and sleeveless hot pink tank. There was no reason I couldn’t look hot for a walk to the donut shop.

After we got dressed, I pulled the jogging stroller out from the garage. The donut place was only a mile away. Running there would be the perfect way for me to justify eating crappy food.

Arielle was getting so big I could hardly believe it. She climbed up into the stroller and I buckled her up. I cued up the “Eminem Workout Songs” playlist on my iPod and off we went.

It was perfect out, no more than sixty-five degrees with just the slightest breeze. The air felt crisp in my lungs and helped me clear my head. Was I seriously considering having an affair? I smiled to myself remembering all the hot things Ty and I had chatted about the night b
efore.

My neighborhood felt so peaceful and serene this early on a Saturday morning. Without the weekday distraction of having to wave to everyone on my jog, I noticed things I had never paid
attention to before. There were giant redwood trees that lined the opposite side of the street and beautifully manicured lawns, all green and lush and exploding with flowers.

Each house seemed more ostentatious and impressive than the one before it. I noticed that almost everyone parked in their garages, but the few cars that were parked in the driveways were all luxury, every single one of them. Shoshana Ginsburg had a new Cadillac Escalade in her driveway, and I made a mental note to hint to Aaron that I wanted something a little bigger, a li
ttle better.

By the time we got there, I was sweaty and my face was red. Arielle liked donut holes best, so I got her a cup of those, and then ordered a jelly donut and a large iced coffee with lots of skim milk and a packet of Splenda for myself.

“Hey, Julia!” My neighbor Shoshana came up to us. “How have you been? Look how big Arielle is getting,” she gushed at her. “So is anything new?”

“Not really, just busy with teaching yoga and spending time with my baby girl.”

“Yeah, Julia, your body is smokin’. I wish I had that little figure of yours. Lucky girl.”

I blushed a little. “Thanks, Shoshana. Come to my yoga class anytime. I’d love to see you there.”

What I wanted to say was that she was the lucky one. Her husband, Shawn, was gorgeous and funny and loaded. She’d hit the fucking jackpot. But I didn’t want her to know how hot I thought he was. There have been a bunch of times when I’ve caught him checking me out, and I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t give him my bedroom eyes at every opportunity. In some ways, it must suck to have a husband that is that sexy. He is a ten to her seven. So even though she is attractive and has a cute body, she will never be at his level.

I have a theory that I call the “two point spread.” Basically, I think most couples will be within two points of each other in the looks department. If he’s an eight, the rule says she’ll be b
etween a six and a ten.

That’s not to say that all couples fit this model, but most do. And those that don’t are likely to stick out to outsiders. People will whisper—or at least wonder—if the less attractive one has a lot of money. I wondered if people ever though that about me and Aaron. Not for nothing, but I am definitely more than two points better looking than he is. That is not me being a bitch; I’m just telling it like it is.

Arielle and I walked home after we finished. As though he knew I’d just been thinking about him, gorgeous Shawn was just getting out of his car with some groceries. He was your textbook all-American, hot California boy: perpetually tan, gelled-back, blonde hair, sky blue eyes, and perfect white teeth. I sized him up and guessed he was six feet tall and two hundred pounds of perfectly chiseled yumminess.

He eyed me up and down slowly. “Hey, Julia. How are you?”

“I’m good, Shawn. How are you?” I pursed my lips together a little to make them look pouty.

“Good. What are you up to?” As he stood there in his khaki pants, I did my best to resist checking out his package, but my eyes were drawn there, and I smiled to myself when I saw the telltale bulge.

“Oh, just walking home from the donut shop. I actually ran into Shoshana there. Funny, huh?”

“That is funny; this town gets small pretty quickly.” Shawn’s eyes homed right in on my tits. I had to admit I got a thrill getting checked out by guys, especially hunky ones like Shawn.

I held his gaze and lingered for a moment. My eyes knew how to say a lot without a word. But Shawn passed the test. Most guys got uncomfortable if we locked eyes for more than a moment. He didn’t flinch, which only confirmed my suspicions that not only was he hung, but he was a player.

After I got home, I showered, got dressed in real clothes, and decided enough time had passed for me to check my Facebook email. I was really excited when I saw a message from T
yrone.

Hey Julia, how is a beautiful girl doing on this beautiful day? Hit me up when you have a moment to chat. –Ty

JULIA:
Hey, Ty. How are you?

TYRONE:
Hey, gorgeous. How’s your day?

JULIA:
It’s good, just went on a walk to get donuts with my daughter.

TYRONE
: Fun, how old is she?

JULIA:
She’s three years old. How about your son?

TYRONE:
He’s two.

JULIA:
Sweet age.

TYRONE:
Yeah, somehow we’ve managed to avoid the terrible twos. He’s my little man. In a little bit I’m taking him to lunch and a movie.

JULIA:
Aw, I’m sure he loves spending time with you.

TYRONE:
He does, as will you.

JULIA:
I will?

TYRONE:
Yes.

JULIA:
What do you like to do that your wife doesn't?

TYRONE:
Fuck.

JULIA:
LOL.

TYRONE:
Seriously, she barely ever wants it
and even when she does, it’s so vanilla and boring. She hates to blow me.

JULIA:
What? That’s crazy. I love giving head.

TYRONE:
God, Julia, where have you been all my life?

JULIA:
Over here, bored with no cock in my mouth. LOL.

TYRONE:
LOL.

JULIA:
Seriously, what do you think is missing in your marriage?

TYRONE:
Honestly, my wife is a good woman. We just have different sex drives and I’m frustrated. I have thought about leaving her, but she’s a wonderful mom.

TYRONE:
So what are you missing in your marriage?

JULIA:
Fire, hunger, passion. It’s just flat and lifeless.

TYRONE:
If I had a chance with that incredible body of yours, I’d be banging you morning, noon, and night. Your body needs me to devour it, not only with my hands, but my mouth, lips, and tongue, licking every inch of you.

JULIA:
Perfect, because sex is practically the only thing I think about.

TYRONE:
Me too!

JULIA:
Right, but you're a guy.

TYRONE:
Yeah, a guy who wants to ravage you.

TYRONE:
Maybe we should meet for drinks next week?

JULIA:
Believe me, I am tempted. I just want to get to know you a little more.

TYRONE:
Ok, tell me: what’s your best feature?

JULIA:
My lips.

I ran my tongue slowly across my lips as I imagined how they would feel engulfed around his big, black python.

TYRONE
: I’d love to feel those sensuous lips on my cock. Shit, I’m so horny for you.

JULIA:
I’ll try to be less sexy when we chat. ;)

TYRONE:
No, don’t. I love everything you say. But I have to run now. Arty is waiting. Have a great day, gorgeous.

JULIA:
Okay, have fun. TTYL.

I sat back in my chair and imagined what it would be like to be with another man. I hadn’t been with anyone else since I started dating Aaron six years ago. I closed my eyes and imagined Tyrone kissing me, his tongue tasting my lips, his hands caressing me. I thought about closing my door and taking care of myself, but I heard the pitter patter of Arielle’s feet.

“Mommy, we go to park now?”

I sighed. My needs would have to wait. I paused before I got up; huh, wasn’t that a mouthful. It seemed like my needs were always on the back burner. I didn’t mind giving up what I wanted for my daughter, but between taking care of Aaron and Arielle, my needs were rarely met. Funny, I bet that had never even occurred to Aaron.

Arielle and I had a lovely afternoon in the park. I packed her crackers and cheese, grapes, and a bag of pretzels. She was such a picky eater and barely liked anything. The funny thing was that I’d tried all the tactics promoted by the so-called experts, including not giving in unless she ate what was in front of her. She once went two whole days without eating. So either she was the most stubborn person I had ever met or she had an incredible foundation for standing her ground. She wants what she wants and won’t settle for anything else.

I wish I’d had her strength six years ago.

The universe was trying to tell me something; that much was clear. Left and right, friends were telling me of their marital indiscretions. I’d tried warning them, but the high road I’d taken suddenly came to a fork. My ex-boyfriend, Nick, sent me a friendship request on Facebook. I really didn’t know if I wanted to see pictures of his wife and kids, or to be in touch with him at all. But ignoring his friend request would only let him know he could still get to me. So there was that.

Nicholas Riggins, my 199th friend on Facebook. Yay, me.

Just when I was about to call it a night and shut down my computer, the Facebook chat box dinged. I figured it was Maria, but then there he was. Nicholas Riggins, my first real love.

His profile picture was so
him
. He had on a sleeveless shirt that showed off his bulging biceps and was smiling from ear to ear. His chestnut-colored hair was still wavy, and his blue eyes were as bright as ever.

It was funny how different Nick and Braden looked. Nick’s hair was so dark it was almost black, while Braden was a to
whead. Nick was tan and rugged, Braden sun-kissed and clean-shaven. The only similarity was that they each had sparkling blue eyes, but light eyes have always been a weakness of mine.

NICK:
Hey, Liz, how are you?

LIZ:
I’m good, how have you been?

NICK:
Great, I have my own business. I’m married and my wife, Nicole, is pregnant with our first baby.

LIZ:
Awesome, congrats! When is she due?

NICK
: She just finished the first trimester, so we have another six months. Tell me what’s been going on with you.

LIZ:
I’m married to Braden. We have one son and two daughters. I work as a copy editor at an advertising agency.

NICK:
Sounds great.

LIZ:
Listen, Nick, I hear my baby crying. I have to run. Nice catching up.

NICK:
Oh, okay. You too. Hope we can chat again soon.

Alexa wasn’t really crying, but all of a sudden I felt sick to my stomach. Shit, he really wants to chat again soon? My hands were still shaking. My long lost love, Nicholas, wants to catch up with me. Life is so funny. I wanted to be friends with him after we broke up, but he was too busy. That’s code for “I have no balls and can’t tell you it’s just too hard to be friends.”

I was going to play this by ear. It’d taken me a long time to get over Nick. I had a bad feeling it would take a lot less time to get
under
him. I crack myself up.

That night I was lying in my bed reading
Good Night Moon
with Alexa. She smelled delicious, like Johnson’s baby shampoo and sweet baby’s breath. I loved it when she nuzzled up so close to me like that. She wouldn’t tolerate even an inch between us when we were cuddling.

Sometimes when I looked at her, I couldn’t believe that she was almost not in our lives. Braden and I had agreed to have two kids. After Don and Isabella were born, we felt very lucky they were both healthy and we had one of each gender. We thought life was perfect. Alexa was an unexpected surprise. Sometimes when she looked at me extra lovingly, I got choked up. To think that I was upset when I first found out I was pregnant with her. Now she was my sunshine. Alexa had helped redefine happiness for me.

❧

At work the next day, my friend Gabby pulled me into the bathroom. She and I had become good friends through work; she was one of the funniest people I knew. She was your typ
ical Philly girl: loud, obnoxious, and brash. She wore her terra-cotta hair in a sassy bob and always had on lots of makeup. Gabby was short and a little chunky, but she had a confidence about her that seemed to draw men to her, and she flaunted her big booty everywhere we went. Construction workers loved her, and whenever we’d go downstairs to grab lunch, they’d whistle at her, “Ay Mami, move that thing. Can I have some fries with that shake?”

“Oh my God, Liz, I have to talk to you.” She seemed excited.

“What is it, Gabby?”

“Do you remember Todd Roberts from Creative?” Her eyes lit up.

“Sure, didn’t he recently move over to the Sánchez Group?”

“Yes, exactly, and I ran into him at the National Advertising Conference over the wee
kend.”

“Oh, cool. How is he?” I was still trying to figure out why this was a big deal.

“He’s good. He looks great.” Gabby swooned.

“And?” I tilted my head knowing there was more to this story.

“And we’ve been flirting on Facebook and he wants me.” She smiled from ear to ear.

“He wants you to what?” I asked stupidly.

“He wants to fuck me, you dumbass,” Gabby said in an annoyed tone.

“Oh, duh! Well, of course he does. So what are you going to do?”

“I think I’m going to meet him,” Gabby told me with slight hesitation in her voice.

I wanted to tell her not to do it, that it was wrong, that she was married, that her husband could find out, that she could get hurt. I wanted to tell her a million reasons why she shouldn’t, but I knew from what was going on with Maria and Enrique that nothing I said would have made a difference.

Gabby wasn’t happy in her marriage, but I didn’t think cheating was the answer. I did manage to eke out, “Oh, Gabby, please be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been hurting long enough. It’s time I did something I want to do. I deserve that much.” Gabby looked at herself the mirror and tucked a strand of her brown hair b
ehind her ear and half smiled at her reflection.

She looked desperate in that moment, her eyes heavy with sorrow.

I grabbed her hand and softly held it in mine for a moment. “Okay, just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” she whispered, but her mind seemed to be somewhere else completely.

I felt like I was somehow responsible for the Maria/Enrique saga, so I told myself that I wouldn’t get involved in Gabby’s affair; I wouldn’t even ask her about it. I told myself that if I did, then I was condoning it, and that is the last thing I thought Gabby needed in her life.

Later, I’d come to regret this. Maybe if I had been there for Gabby, she could have come to me, told me her predicament. Maybe, somehow, I could have helped.