Leanne Banks - Feet First

“I like my red glasses,” she said, touching the lenses, comforted by the fact that she’d worn them for six years and successfully irritated the living daylights out of her sister with the glasses.

“They’re not seductive. They’re weird.”

“Well, maybe I’m weird.”

“You don’t need to advertise the fact if you want to bonk VP boy.”

“That’s a crass way of putting it.”

He shot her a sideways glance. “Would you like to be Mrs. VP?”

Jenny felt the back of her neck itch and gave an involuntary shudder. Marc would be a demanding husband. A woman would have to build her world and schedule around his, and since he was type A to the core, he would probably be a pain in the butt to live with. “That would be a nightmare,” she confessed.

“But you find him attractive.”

Ohhhhh, yeah. She nodded. “Everything that makes him unappealing as a husband makes him irresistible as a lover. He’s got this whole power thing going on and he’s got a great body. His lips are sort of full, but a little hard at the same time. He’s intense in a passionate kind of way. It makes you wonder how he would be if he cut loose and—” She broke off and cleared her throat, self-conscious.

Chad studied her for a long moment. “I’ve never seen your hormones in full throttle before. Pity,” he added. “This could be fun, but I don’t think you’re enough of a risk taker.” He patted her hand. “I’ll get you a good vibrator for Christmas.”

SO THE FOLLOWING DAY Jenny bought a new pair of heels, Bellagio, of course. Even with her employee discount, she flinched at the cost. The weekend after her shoe purchase, she brooded over Chad’s advice. Her fantasies about Marc Waterson had always seemed like harmless fun until now. She’d never spoken to him except over the phone. The man couldn’t even remember her name. Was she really such a wuss that she wouldn’t go after him? It wasn’t as if she wanted to marry him. She just wanted to borrow him. She just wanted his undivided attention and lust for once. She was twenty-six. Wasn’t she due at least one hot affair in her life? This was starting to feel way overdue.

She lunched and shopped with her friend Liz at Lennox Mall. Liz had been a cocktail waitress at the same club where Jenny worked, but Liz had parlayed the job into an introduction, affair, engagement and marriage to a very wealthy older man named Frank Colburn.

“And then I told him I wasn’t ready to be a golf widow at age twenty-five.”

“So where are you going next?” Jenny asked, because she’d heard a similar story from Liz before.

Liz smiled. “The French Riviera. I’ve always wanted to go. After this trip, I can either mark it off my list or add it to my revisit list.”

Liz was big on lists. “What about your degree?”

Liz was blond and cute with big blue eyes that worked like calculators and big boobs that made men forget their names. “I’m working on that, too. Two classes this fall. I have no idea how long this will last with Frank. Marrying him was like winning the lottery.”

“Does it bother you that you don’t have any romantic feelings for him at all?”

“Only at certain times, and those are rare. I care a great deal for Frank. I remind him to take his medication and to go for his doctor appointments. I even set up dinners to include his children. But you gotta remember, Jenny. I was raised in a single-wide. Frank is my ticket to financial security.”

“But don’t you miss having some kind of passion for him?”

Liz paused and sighed. “I have a different kind of passion for Frank. It’s a passion of gratitude for changing my life. If you’re talking about sex, well, I’ve had some really hot lovers. And I imagine that someday in the future I will again.”

Jenny sipped her soda and thought about how different she was from Liz. Sometimes Liz’s callous attitude to her marriage made Jenny cringe. Other times, she admired the woman’s practical approach.

“You’ve been quiet too long,” Liz said. “This is when you’re thinking I’m a she-devil going straight to hell.”

Jenny laughed and shook her head. “No, I just wish my conscience wasn’t so noisy.”

Liz patted her hand. “Your conscience is part of your charm, and I wouldn’t want you to lose it.” She smiled. “But couldn’t you just stuff it in the hall closet every now and then? Like, remember that guy you had a crush on and you wouldn’t go after him because that other flaky waitress couldn’t get over him?”

“It would have felt mean to flaunt it in her face.”

“And remember that guy who offered to take you to the Super Bowl?”

“He was married,” Jenny said.

“Not much longer,” Liz corrected.

Liz patted her hand again. “I can tell something is bothering you. Tell Liz about it.”

Liz was a strange combination of survivalist and everyone’s favorite aunt.

“It’s stupid,” Jenny said, shaking her head. Stupid, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Does it involve man, money or job?”

“All three in a way,” Jenny said.

Liz’s eyes rounded. “Oh, my. Spill it.”

“There’s nothing to spill. I got a promotion to work on a special project which means more money, for a while. But the project will go away in a few months, so the promotion may really be temporary. One of the problems is the VP thinks I have a degree and I don’t.”

“And the angel side of you is hurting,” Liz said with a nod. “Frank has told me about this kind of thing, and you know he’s a very experienced entrepreneur. It’s the fake-it-till-you-make-it principle. I hear they even teach it at the community college, so get over yourself. You’ve been given an opportunity. Make the most of it. Where does the man come in?”

“The man is a VP at the company where I work.”

“Oh, really,” Liz said. “And have you—”

Jenny shook her head. “No. He doesn’t even know my name.”

Liz frowned. “I don’t understand. Do you want to get him to give you a permanent promotion or do you want to get him—” she shrugged “—naked?”

“Both, except I’m ninety-nine percent sure there’s no way I can get a permanent promotion.” She thought about her résumé that Sal had doctored and felt her stomach tighten. With her luck, there was no way the truth wouldn’t come out about that sometime. She would just ride this wave until it crashed.

“Okay, so you want the VP to marry you? I bet he’s loaded,” she said with approval.

“No. I don’t want to marry him. I just want to—” Her throat closed up and she lowered her voice. “Have him once, or maybe twice.”

“Omigod, is he that hot?”

“Yes,” Jenny said in a crisp voice.

“Is he married? Engaged?”

Jenny shook her head.

“Well this is so easy. You just seduce him and—” She broke off and sighed. “Easy for everyone but you. Okay, the first thing you must do is give yourself permission to have VP stud. Second step, give yourself permission to go after him. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. This will all be done by choice.”

This actually sounded somewhat logical. “So he can be my one hot lover.”

Liz blinked. “One?”

“I think that every woman should have one hot love affair, don’t you?”

“I think we can and should have more,” Liz said. “And if you include celebrity crushes, my list is a mile long and I probably started working on it when I was three years old and my babysitter introduced me to Huey Lewis. I went on to The Backstreet Boys and Rob Thomas. Collin Farrell’s the current fave. But it all started with Huey.”

Jenny laughed in agreement. “My older sister was crazy about Huey. I guess she made me have a crush on him, too.”