My Five Night Fling by Maci Dillon

 

 

KASSIDY

 

I run my fingers over the beads of a peacock blue flapper gown to the fringe at the bottom. “This is beautiful.”

Sophia pulls it from the rack of her go-to vintage boutique store and screws up her face. “Gorgeously elegant. It screams Kassidy, but not slutty enough by a long shot,” she addresses me with a stern expression, placing it back on the rack and pulls me to a different section of the store.

“Not slutty enough? For whom?”

“Roaring twenties events are all around us. We can go to a flapper party any day of the week here in London. My birthday party…” she pauses, staring off into the distance for effect, “… it will be the sluttiest Gatsby-style event ever to hit this city.”

Of course, it will.

“Okay, good to know. Can I ask what you are wearing?”

Her hand flies to her chest. “It’s a surprise I can’t reveal.”

Rolling my eyes, she pulls a beaded lace corset from the rack with a deep, plunging neckline. Her eyes light up, and the oohs and aahs make it sound like she’ll be screaming daddy’s name in about two point five seconds.

Holding it up against my body, I’m shocked when she announces, “This is the one. Add an elegant headpiece, thick feather boa, and thigh-high garters. Don’t give me that look,” she adds pointedly. “I know you love to wear fishnets… you’ll be comfortably you.” She hands me the hanger and orders me to the change room.

I peruse the small but glamourous piece of fabric hanging in front of me. “Comfortably me? Sophia, I’ll be practically naked.”

“And perfectly slutty, my love. Try it on.” She slams the door shut and leaves me to gawk at the costume in private. By God, if she’s setting me up to wear this, and she walks in with an elegant ankle-length gown, I’ll kill her.

“I can’t hear you moving around in there.” A light knock from the other side of the door flips me into action.

Standing in front of the mirror, I admire my perky breasts, loving the way they sit naturally with deep cleavage. Damn, I look hot.

“It’s a perfect fit,” I yell out. “But there’s no way I’m walking out of here dressed in only this.”

Sophia huffs from the other side, and her feet scurry across the floor away from me. I open the door to the changing room the slightest bit to peer around the shop searching for her. Suddenly, she appears with a garter, stockings, head and wrist piece.

I sigh. There’s no way of getting out of this. She throws everything in a bundle into my hand and pulls the door closed.

A few minutes later, after fighting with the garter and trying to position the headpiece correctly without squeezing my brains out, a teal feather boa lands over the door scaring the shit out of me.

Sophia snickers when I yelp in fright. I wrap it behind my neck and rest it over the insides of both elbows as I’ve seen in the movies. I’m pleased with the additional pieces, no longer screaming naked and exposed. Instead, my self-confidence increases dramatically.

I step out of the stall, and Sophia spins around, her jaw flapping in the proverbial wind. “Holy sweet fuck, Kassidy. I’m going to need to rethink my outfit now. You’re going to outshine me. You look fucking amazing.”

I twirl for her, the only skin void of fabric are my arms, a few inches between my ass and the tops of my thighs where the stockings sit, and, of course, my neck through my chest and down to my torso where the deep plunge finally concedes.

“Slutty enough for you?” I ask, hands on my hips. “You better be wearing something equally revealing.” I point my finger at her.

A devilish grin spreads over the face, “Oh, I am. I’ll be showing off my body for the world to see. At forty, it may be the last time.”

She’s adamant about this, so I trust I’ll not stand out poorly.

 

 

Hanging out with Sophia today was so much fun, and yet, I return home following our mani-pedi and facials homesick as fuck. I curl up on the sofa and FaceTime with my girls, who just happen to be together in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

The chat doesn’t last long because none of them are talking any sense at all. Before I know it, tears flow from my eyes, cascading torrents of sadness.

I sniffle and wipe my eyes to steady the run, conscious of having my facial ruined by dark, puffy crying eyes.

Jarett is due here within the hour so we can discuss the fling or no-fling situation, but my heart feels too tender for any serious conversation right now. I call him instead of texting so he doesn’t think I’m putting him off. He picks up after a few rings.

“Kassidy, need me to bring anything tonight? A bottle of wine?”

“I was hoping we could reschedule if you don’t mind, I’m feeling a little off.”

“Did something go awry with Sophia and the Botox bitches today?”

God, he makes me laugh. “Botox bitches?”

He laughs heartily on the other end of the phone. “What’s the matter? I didn’t poison you with a free breakfast this morning, did I?”

Tears well up and spring free again until I’m sobbing into the phone.

Fuck my life! What the hell is going on?

“Kassidy, are you crying, love?”

“I’m fine. Just a little homesick after the day with the girls. I’d rather curl up in bed.”

The reception starts to fail. “Breaking up... hear you... ten minutes.” And he’s gone.

Fuck.

Assuming he’s on the subway, reception is poor in the tunnels. Soon, he’ll be knocking at the door, home to a blubbering mess who doesn’t want any company.

I fiddle around with the costume items I bought today and hang up the corset that cost me a small fortune. The doorbell soon jolts me from my self-pity party of one.

Shoulders back, I suck in a few deep breaths for good measure and open the door.

“Baby, are you okay?”

Good measure, my ass.

Salty tears stream down my cheeks and puddle in my hair tossed over my collarbone. Jarett places the shopping bag inside the door, pulls me to his chest, and slams the door shut with his foot.

Breaking our embrace after wetting his jacket with my tears, I assure him I’m fine, just a little homesick.

“Funny that, I have just the thing to cure homesickness.” Bending over to collect the bag of goodies he brought with him, he pulls out a Mars bar because he knows it’s my favorite chocolate, wine because I can’t live without it, tissues because he’s telepathic, and chopsticks.

Taking the tissues into the kitchen, he follows.

“Which part of your care package is just the thing for homesickness?”

“This may come as a surprise to you, but in my younger days when my parents were still alive, Sophia and I used to travel to Italy over the summer break to visit our aunt, my mum’s sister. One year for whatever reason, Sophia couldn’t go, but I insisted on going alone. I made it about ten days, living it up in a foreign country better than any other pre-teen I knew. Then snap, just like that…” he clicks his fingers, a faraway look in his eyes, “… reality set in, and I realized, although I wasn’t alone, and I had visited multiple times before, I was missing home in a bad way.”

I smile as Jarett recounts the memory wistfully. “My aunt held me all night that first night it hit, and I cried like a baby. Shhh…” he put his fingers to his lips, “… this doesn’t leave this room.”

I zip my lips shut and throw away the key.

“The next day my auntie made me pasta and cheesecake for dessert, my two favorite things, and let me open a prized bottle of grape juice, alcohol-free, of course, while we watched British movies and comedy shows all day. Before bed, I called home and slept like a grownup that night. No more tears.”

My heart melted for the love this man shows me. Whatever kind of love it is, I want it. All of it.

Jarett is the most perfect best friend a girl could ever ask for.

“You knew I’d be on the brink of a meltdown when you saw me this morning, yet you said nothing?”

“This morning, you appeared to be perfectly intact. But the thought had crossed my mind which is why I was happy when you suggested we meet up tonight.”

“After I left the gallery, I went out for supplies just in case.” He shrugs as if it’s the most normal part of any day.

“And if I’d not broken down on you?”

“No sweat, I’d have come up with another reason for having brought with me this outrageous array of items.”

Without hesitation, I rush into his arms and stay there, allowing his warmth to embrace my vulnerabilities.

“Why the chopsticks?” I question into his shoulder.

“I wasn’t sure about food items except for the Mars bar. I love to sit with a box of takeout noodles when I need to take a beat, so I thought we could order in some of the best noodles in England or whatever you desired.”

“I love noodles.”