Sex and the Social Network (8 page)

Enrique and I chatted or texted daily, but I missed his touch. I had to see him. We’d agreed we would meet at his hotel on Friday night, and I was so excited I was bursting.

ENRIQUE:
Hey, baby doll.

MARIA:
Hey, sexy. How are you?

ENRIQUE:
Counting down the hours until I can see you.

MARIA:
Me too, I can’t concentrate at work.

ENRIQUE:
Are we still meeting tonight at 7?

MARIA:
That’s perfect. It’ll give me a chance to go home and change first.

ENRIQUE:
Please don’t. I love you just the way you are.

MARIA:
LOL, I am sure you’d prefer me in something other than my stuffy suit.

ENRIQUE:
You are correct. Hot dress or nothing at all would be my first choice.

MARIA:
Gotta run, finishing up some stuff. I’ll text you if I’m running late, otherwise see you at 7.

Even though Zack was away, I had to be more prepared this time in case he tried to reach me tonight. I sent him an email.

Hey, Zack. I’m going out tonight with a friend from work. If you need to reach me, please text or call my cell. We’ll be at a loud restaurant and then a movie, so if I don’t hear you, let me know a good time to call you back. Have a great flight, Maria.

He responded within a few minutes.

Maria, no problem. I’ll be landing late, so if you don’t hear from me, I’m probably just out with a friend for drinks. I’ll call you in the morning.

The last few hours of the workday felt like an eternity. Finally, five o’clock rolled around and I could leave. I hadn’t gotten much done that day; all I could think about was the feel of Enrique’s skin against mine. I stumbled out of my office in a daze. On the way to the hotel, all I could think about was his lips on mine, his hands caressing my thighs. I decided not to go home to change. Soon enough I’d be in nothing at all.

The rush hour traffic was torture. By the time I got to the hotel, my panties were soaked with anticipation. I needed to calm down a bit, so I went to the bar and ordered a glass of wine. I forced myself to sit, take a deep breath, and
allow my pulse to slow. I was acting like a high school girl, and that just wouldn’t do. Finally, at just two minutes to seven, I finished my wine and headed for the elevator and to Enrique’s arms.

I knocked on his door, and he opened it immediately. His dress shirt fit like a glove. I smiled, thinking about ripping it off him.

“Hey, gorgeous. Right on time.”

“Well, actually, I got here fifteen minutes ago and had a glass of wine at the bar.”

He closed the door behind me and pulled me in. God, he was hot! I kissed him tenderly.

He pulled me in tight and pressed his soft lips against mine. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you. You are so beautiful, Maria.” He said my name slowly and ran his fingers along my jaw line as he stared into my eyes.

“Thank you, baby. I missed you too.”

“I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes,” he instructed gently.

“Mmm, you know I love surprises.”

“Here, hold on to my arm and keep your eyes closed.” He walked me over to the bedroom. “Okay, open your eyes now.” Dozens of red rose petals decorated the bed. On the night stand was a bottle of white wine chilling on ice and a bowl of juicy strawberries and whipped cream, and I heard love songs softly playing in the bac
kground.

“You did all of this… for me?” I was choking on my words.

“Of course, mi amor. For you . . . the world.”

My eyes filled with tears.

Enrique turned to me and wiped a tear from my cheek. “Amor, why are you crying? Did I do something to upset you?”

“No, of course not. It’s just I’ve been married for ten years, and Zack has never done anything remotely like this for me. I am just so overwhelmed.”

He took my hands in his. “Well, guess what? I’ve never done this for Claire, either. You do something to me, Maria. You make me want to spoil you, to show you all the love and respect you deserve. I love you, Maria. I hope that doesn’t make you want to run away, but I can’t hold it in anymore.” His eyes were pleading with mine for a response.

I knew I still loved Enrique too. All that high school lust and love came flooding back into my heart the instant I laid eyes on him. No time had passed with us at all. It was as if time had stood still. All those years of being apart didn’t equate into how I felt when we were together.

“You are amazing. I love you too, Enrique. I don’t deserve this royal treatment, but I’m going to pretend I do.”

We both laughed and he poured two glasses of wine. “To a fabulous night. Salud.”

We drank our wine, ate our strawberries, and made love on and off for hours. This was the kind of life I thought I would have with Zack, full of passion and love and time together.

My feelings were at wa
r with my thoughts. Did I really still love Enrique, or was this my way of escaping my reality that I was bored with? Could two people really fall back in love after so many years? My mind went back and forth until it really hit me, and hit me hard.

Not seventy miles or marriage or two kids could change how I felt about Enrique Ma
rtinez. Denial is strong, but honesty is stronger. And tonight between Enrique’s touch, the wine, and me, there was only the truth.

Flashback: Ten years old

Uncle Gene licked his lips. “We are going to have the most amazing time, sweetie. Take out the doctor stuff now.” His tone had changed somehow; it seemed less gentle, but I was loo
king forward to playing with him.

I brought over the kit and handed it to him.

“Now, let’s see.” He sat me on the couch. “Lie down here, Gabby. We’ll pretend it’s the table in the doctor’s office.” I lay down like I was told. “Okay, little girl. Tell me, why are you here today? What hurts?”

I giggled. “Um, well my tummy and my throat hurt and I’ve been coughing.”

He took out the stethoscope and placed it on my heart on the outside of my dress. “Hmm, that’s weird. I can’t hear anything. You’re going to have to take off your dress.” He gave me his hand so I could stand up. Then he turned me around and unbuttoned my dress and gingerly pulled it over my head. His hands felt warm and strong on my body.

I started shaking a little. I’m not sure if it was the cold or because I felt a little scared.

“You’re shivering. You cold, sweetie?”

I nodded yes.

“Here, take my sweater.” He pulled it off and handed it to me. “Okay, where were we, miss? Ah, I remember. Checking to see if your heart is beating.” He placed the stethoscope under the sweater, on my heart again. This time his hands roamed across my chest. “Mmm, you feel warm under there. Good news: your heart is beating.”

I giggled. “You’re so silly, Uncle Gene. Of course it is.”

He chuckled. “Let’s check the rest of you out.” His big warm hands moved up and down my body, slowly and gently. “Your arms look good, your belly button is still there, your feet are stinky, but they look okay.”

His hand came up my legs slower this time, pausing on my inner thighs, the palm of his hand resting on my panties. He started to move his hand around in small circles. “Does this feel all right, miss?”

I nodded. He felt gentle and warm and I liked it. His fingers slowly crept upward and started to make small circles on the outside of my panties.

He started breathing heavily. “This is a very special massage that doctors sometimes have to do when their patients aren’t feeling well. Doesn’t that feel nice, sweetie?”

It did feel nice. I felt relaxed, almost in a trance.

“You like it when I make you feel good, honey?”

“Uh huh,” I mumbled.

“I’m so glad. You are so beautiful, Gabby, such a good girl. You deserve to feel good.”

I opened my eyes and his pants were off. “Why are your pants off?” I asked, surprised.

“I was so cold, sweetie, but I know a special way you can warm me up, okay?”

He pulled me to the edge of the couch and pushed my knees apart. “Close your eyes now. The doctor needs you to close your eyes so he can really examine you good. You have to keep them closed, okay? You have to promise me or else you’ll get really sick.”

I did as he said and closed my eyes. Then I felt what I thought was a hard stick on top of my panties. He moved the stick back and forth, back and forth.

“Mmm . . . doesn’t that feel nice, Gabby? Keep your eyes closed so I can make you feel all better.”

He continued to move the stick on top of my panties, first back and forth, then in circles. Then he slid my panties to the side, and the stick lay right on top of my privates.

“That is perfect, darling. Don’t move.” The stick felt harder on my privates. It was hard but not rough, and he slid it up and down, up and down on the outside of my girl parts.

“Now, Gabby, remember: I am a doctor here, so I can touch you everywhere. I am going to pull off your panties so I can make sure everything looks good.” He pulled them down my legs and off my little feet.

I heard him moan and wasn’t sure what hurt, but I was too afraid to look. His fingers softly started the circles again, but this time they moved lower and lower.

“Gabby, you are so beautiful.” His words made me trust him, made me believe that wha
tever he was doing was okay. We were just playing doctor, right?

Then he climbed on top of me and started rubbing himself up and down on my privates.

“You are such a good girl, Gabby. Keep your eyes closed, sweetie. Isn’t this fun?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I was scared; I knew something wasn’t totally right about what was happening. But Uncle Gene told me I was a good girl, and my mom just recently told me I had to listen whenever a grownup told me what to do.

His rubbing got faster and a little harder, and he was making these odd whimpering noises. “Gabby, you are such a good little girl.” He rubbed faster and faster until I heard him grunt and I felt something slimy all over me.

“Oh, Gabby, you did such a good job. You are the best patient ever. Stay right there. Keep your eyes closed,” he demanded, but his voice was playful.

I did as he said. A minute later he came back with some tissues and wiped the gunk off of me. He slid my panties on me and told me I could sit up and open my eyes.

I sat up and saw he had his clothes back on. He was holding up my dress. “Here, sweetie. Let’s put this back on you.” He slid it over my head and buttoned me up. “Now, Gabby, did you have fun?”

I nodded yes. I felt strange and a little frightened, but I had a lot of fun playing doctor with Uncle Gene.

“Now, you have to promise me not to tell anyone about our game. It’s our little secret.” He took his index finger and crossed it on his heart. “Promise me, Gabby.” He raised his ey
ebrows waiting for my response.

“I promise.” And I crossed my heart too.

Since Maria had begun her affair with Enrique, she and I were spending far less time te
xting, talking, or chatting on Facebook. I knew she was busy with work, kids, and her paramour, so I tried not to hassle her, even though I missed her.

We finally found some time to catch up, and after our chat I sat at my computer wonde
ring how her relationship with Enrique would play out. She was so happy with him, but it was complicated because of their kids. It didn’t sound like either one of them was willing to leave their marriages. I knew Maria was very unhappy, and from what she told me, the same was true for Enrique.

It was so odd, all these people walking around with smiles on their faces when the truth was that they were miserable. I felt like I was in a theater watching a steamy movie where I knew all the actors. I was dying to see how their stories ended, not realizing how my own was starting to unfold.

I was trying hard to avoid chatting with Nick again. I would leave Facebook on throughout the day while I was working, and sometimes I’d see his little avatar photo there. When that happened, I’d go offline so I wouldn’t be tempted. One night while Braden was away and the kids were asleep, I was logged in, and when I came back from getting a cup of tea, there was a chat message from him.

NICK:
Hey, Liz. How are you? I would love to catch up some more. Is now good?

I took a deep breath. I thought about ignoring him or saying I was busy, but there was no sense prolonging the inevitable, so I figured I’d just get it over with.

LIZ:
Hey, Nick. I’m great, you?

NICK:
Good, good. Busy, but can’t complain. Tell me more about yourself.

LIZ:
Well, like I said I have three kids. My oldest, Don, is 12 years old; Isabella is 10. And Alexa, our“surprise” baby, is 2. I work at Esteban Advertising as a copy editor, and my hobbies are working out, photography, and Facebook.

NICK:
Wow, you’re busy! But you sound happy.

LIZ:
True on both counts! Tell me more about your life, work, wife, etc.

NICK:
Well, I have my own company. I have to travel some, but I love visiting different cities and love my job.

LIZ:
How did you meet Nicole?

NICK:
We met in grad school. She is really cool. Actually, some stuff about her really reminds me of you.

LIZ:
Oh? Like what?

NICK:
She is sweet and fun and has nice jugs like you. LOL.

LIZ:
Funny, I don’t remember you particularly liking my jugs.

NICK:
Are you serious? I love breasts and I loved yours.

LIZ:
Blushing over here.

NICK:
Sorry! I’m an ass. I feel so comfortable chatting with you I forgot to put in some filters.

LIZ:
It’s cool, glad you enjoyed them, LOL.

NICK:
Do you remember the first time we kissed?

LIZ:
Of course.

NICK:
I still get butterflies whenever I think of it. I had thought about what your lips would feel like for weeks before that day. They were so full and luscious, so pouty. What do you remember exactly?

LIZ:
I remember having butterflies too. We were dancing in the basement of your fraternity, and I couldn’t stop staring into your gorgeous blue eyes. When you finally leaned in to kiss me, I thought my knees were going to give out.

NICK:
Shit, I can’t believe this. How long were we chatting before it got to this?

LIZ:
Um, 3 seconds.

NICK:
Why is that?

LIZ:
Because that is how we remember each other, and there must still be a comfort level to even go there, know what I mean?

NICK:
Yeah, I guess so. I’m going to be in Westlake for work. Do you want to get together?

LIZ:
Seriously?

NICK:
Yes, of course. It would be great to see you and have a chance to catch up. Don’t worry, we can meet at a restaurant, and I promise to behave.

LIZ:
Which night?

NICK:
How about Friday? We can meet at Andrea’s at 7 p.m. They have great seafood.

LIZ:
Okay, that should work. I’ll let you know for sure. Send me your cell number so we can confirm.

NICK:
Awesome, look forward to seeing you!

LIZ:
Me too. See you soon.

Shit! What the hell was I thinking? I should definitely
not
meet Nick for dinner. He was bad news and I knew it. But I was curious to see how he looks after so many years. The only thing was… I didn’t know whether I should tell Braden or not.

I decided to call Braden at work before I changed by mind. “Hi, love. How’s your day g
oing?”

“Sucky. I just found out I have to go to Chicago for a conference. I’ll be gone from Wednesday to Saturday. The timing is horrible because I have so much going on here too, but I don’t have a choice. Sorry, darling. I
know you hate when I travel.”

“Well,
at least it’s only a few days this time.” I let out a big sigh of relief. Braden wouldn’t be here Friday, so I wouldn’t have to lie. I just wouldn’t tell him anything

❧

Friday came quickly, and I was so nervous I didn’t eat the entire day.

There have only
been two other times in my life that I didn’t eat the whole day. The first time was when Jeremy, a boyfriend from college, told me he was in love with my best friend, Melanie. The other time was the day I had a difficult delivery and had not been
allowed
to eat all day.

I hadn’t seen Nick since we broke up after college graduation. I use the term “broke up” loosely because for more than six months, he’d tried to win me back. Although I said no—I simply didn’t think I could forgive him—I still loved him. He’d pay me visits unannounced, and I’d end up sleeping with him. He’d call me and we’d talk for hours. He sent me letters and flo
wers and gifts. It was the longest, most drawn-out breakup in history. I hated him for cheating on me, but I still loved him, and I wasn’t ready to let him go.

My heart was racing and my hand was shaking while I applied my mascara. I wasn’t sure what to wear, so I opted for slightly sexy but elegant. My black, sleeveless Christian Dior dress fell to my knees, and my red Jimmy Choos had just enough heel to give my calves a sexy, sculpted look.

I didn’t want Nick to get the wrong idea; I had no intention of getting involved with him in any way except to have dinner. That said, there was no way I wasn’t showing up there looking like a million bucks. I wanted him to see what he’d thrown away.

I arrived at the restaurant on time but waited in my car for a few minutes. I didn’t want to seem overly anxious, so I just sat for a moment, taking a few deep breaths.

“Okay, Liz. Stop being such a baby. You can do this,” I said to myself. “You must seem calm and cool. Never let them see you sweat.”

I handed the valet the keys to my black BMW, grabbed my purse, and strolled in the front door. I told the hostess I was meeting someone, and she gestured to the bar. It was packed, but the moment I looked in that direction, I saw him. He was hard to miss, being so tall and tan. And oh my God, he looked fabulous. Impossibly hot for a thirty-eight year old who’d broken my heart.

“Deep breaths … deep breaths,” was the refrain in my head.

He stood up and walked toward me. He gave me a huge hug and picked me up while he did.

“Wow, you are strong, Nick.” I blushed.

“And you’re light as a feather, Lizzy! You’ve had three kids?”

I giggled like a little schoolgirl and thanked him.

In true blueblood form, Nick pulled my chair out for me and waited until I was comfort
able before he took his seat. He stared at me for a few moments before he spoke. The knot in my stomach was almost too much to bear.

Luckily, the waiter came by and asked if we wanted anything to drink.

“A bottle of Cab okay with you, doll?”

“Sure, sounds great.”

“Liz, you look gorgeous. I am almost speechless, but I had to tell you how fantastic you look.”

“You too, Nick. The years have been good to you. You still have all your hair and you’re in great shape. Obviously, you still work out.”

“Sure do. In fact, I make a living out of it. I opened a gym and have three fitness centers. We’re set to expand to Los Angeles. I have a meeting with some investors tomorrow to discuss it.”

“Wow, Nick! That is amazing. Good for you. I always knew you’d do well for yourself. You’ve always been such a hard worker, so driven.”

The first bottle of wine came and went without me batting an eyelash, and thank God for alcohol because I was finally able to relax.

Everything Nick said was hilarious, and I felt giddy and free. He picked up the check and asked if I wanted to go for a walk.

“Sure, why not? I could use the fresh air. I’m feeling a little drunk.” That was my biggest mistake right there, admitting that I was tipsy. We walked around and then, wonder of wonders, we were in front of Nick’s hotel.

“What time do you have to be home?” Nick inquired.

“Anytime is fine. The kids are sleeping at a friend’s house tonight and Braden’s out of town.”

Correction. That was my biggest mistake: telling him I had no curfew.

“So do you want to come upstairs? I can show you the blueprints for the gym, you can tell me what you think, and we can have a nightcap.”

I said, “Okay, sure,” but I knew I was swimming in dangerous waters.

The hotel room was huge and lavish. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. It was clear that Nick had money. His suit was bespoke and his shoes designer-made. Even his wallet looked expensive, and he carried an AMEX Centurion card—you know, the black carbon fiber one that’s so exclusive you can’t even apply for it; you have to get invited. So yeah, Nick was loaded.

He took off his blue and white striped tie, tossed it on the chair, and undid the top button of his light blue Armani shirt. He opened a bottle of Screaming Eagle, a fabulous wine from N
apa Valley that happened to be my personal favorite. He handed me a glass and said, “A toast, to Napa and lots of wine yet to be drunk.”

The wine felt smooth and warm on my throat.

“Elizabeth, I want you.”

“What?” I was suddenly shocked sober by his words.

“I want you, Liz.” His voice was raspy and low.

For a moment I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I felt powerless before him. “Seriously, Nick? Do you have any idea how long it took me to get over you?”

“Don’t stop now,” he laughed.

“It took me a long time, Nick, but I’m married now. I love Braden and we have three gorgeous kids.” My head was spinning; I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Shh.” He took his index finger and placed it on my lips. He took his strong hands, cupped my face, and slowly ran his thumb across my jawline. My knees felt like they were going to buckle from underneath me.

That caress. It was Nick’s signature move. He always did that right before he’d start kis
sing me. He was slow and methodical and the taste of his lips was enough to get me wet every time. Tonight was no exception.

I knew what was coming next, and I knew it was wrong. The wine was clouding my judgment, so I just stood there, anticipating what was about to happen.

His lips drew mine to his like a powerful magnet; there was no way this kiss was
not
going to happen. His lips were warm and soft and barely touched mine, like he was teasing them, wanting them to beg for more. And beg they did.

He moved in closer, and my senses were heightened by the scent of his masculinity. I could’ve gotten drunk off that alone. His deodorant blended effortlessly with my favorite c
ologne, Burberry Classic. His scent was intoxicating, and I wanted to drink in more.

“I need you,” he whispered breathily in my ear. “Liz, I want you so badly.”

Just then, I heard a buzz from my purse. Thank God! I was so grateful for the distraction. I pulled out my phone, and there was a text from my son, Don.

Hi Mommy, we miss you. :)

And there it was. My heart felt heavy and happy at the same time. My sweet Don; his timing was impeccable. I was so thankful he interrupted what might have ended up a disaster.

“Everything all right?” Nick walked back over to me.

I took a step back. I couldn’t stand to have him so close to me. I knew if he touched me again it’d all be over. “No, actually. My son isn’t feeling well, so I have to run.” I hated lying to Nick, but I knew if I tried to reason my way out of sleeping with him that my body would have a stronger, louder voice than my mind.