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When she’d promised to start taking care of herself after her daughter left for college, Anjuli thought it meant making time for the gym and getting regular manicures. And yes, dating was probably on the agenda too, but those first few months she tried it were soul-crushing. How could there be so many ill-equipped and completely unsuitable gentlemen in a twenty-mile radius?
Gentlemen, that’s the problem, she realized after a while.
She did want a “gentleman” someday, someday if she decided to get married. But right now, when she hadn’t had sex in...oh, she was pretty sure it had been long enough to reclaim her virginity...she wanted anything BUT a gentleman. She wanted to make up for lost time.
She was the type of woman who had many more male friends than female. She was certain several of her male friends would have been more than happy to “show her a good time.” But she wasn’t particularly interested in any of them in that way.
So, a glaring roadblock stood between her and orgasmic bliss: she didn’t know how to meet men anymore, not men to date. Not when she was forty-two years old.
Come to think of it, I wasn’t very good at dating men in my twenties, either.
Anjuli found herself pregnant in grad school at the age of twenty-three. She knew her parents, who still lived in India, would be appalled, so she didn’t even tell them her “news” until after her daughter Mishti was born, and her parents visited. She assumed she was not stealthy enough to pull off hiding a baby in her apartment when her parents arrived, and she was proved correct.
Mishti’s father wasn’t a fan of the whole commitment to 18+ years of parenting thing, not to mention the proverbial ball and chain of matrimony, so her parents were even more mortified to learn there hadn’t been and wouldn’t be a wedding. Nor was there a father around for their granddaughter. Needless to say, Anjuli hadn’t been particularly close with her family after her fall from grace—and by not particularly close, she meant there hadn’t been any contact at all save for a sporadic birthday card.
They didn’t even seem proud of me when I earned my doctorate, she sighed.
She quickly discovered that filling the roles of both mother and father was exhausting. She learned how to balance her time between grad school—and eventually a career as a psychologist—and motherhood, knowing it would all pay off someday.
Someday was now. Mishti was at Penn State and loving it, making friends and excelling in her pre-med courses. She even had a boyfriend, who was also pre-med. And Anjuli’s practice working with soldiers coming back from deployment at the VA hospital was fulfilling. She was in the business of saving lives, and she couldn’t imagine anything more gratifying. She felt like all the pieces of her life had fallen into place except—
Except in the last few years, that secret stash of toys she kept in the drawer of her nightstand was less and less satisfying. She saw her daughter dating and becoming curious about sex. Anjuli didn’t see any point in lying to her daughter. “Sex is great,” she told Mishti when she was finally brave enough to have “the talk” with her. “But don’t get pregnant too young like I did. Give yourself a life before you have to give one to someone else.”
Mishti had laughed. “Oh, Mom,” she’d replied, rolling her eyes. She got embarrassed easily, even though Anjuli had tried to create an environment of openness.
“I think I’m going to just wait,” Mishti claimed when Anjuli tried to talk her into going on The Pill when she was a junior in high school. “There’s so much I want to do with my life before getting serious with a boy.”
Anjuli was amazed at how grounded and mature her daughter was, even at sixteen. If only I’d had a good head on my shoulders at her age...
It had now been several years since that conversation, but Anjuli had come to accept the old adage “you’re only young once” was oh so true. And there were so many things she wished she’d had experienced instead of becoming a mother and pouring all of her energies into her daughter and career from age twenty-three on.
I want to make up for it now, she decided.
And that led to her meeting Michael, and Jason, and Jose...
Then Stephan, Alexi, and Greg.
And then, on that fateful day at the liquor store two weeks ago: Garrett.
“So what, he’s like a janitor?” Scott asked, shaking his head incredulously. He had been following Anjuli’s conquests ever since she decided to bite the bullet, so to speak.
“Uh, ‘maintenance guy’ is what he told me,” she answered. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a maintenance man.”
“Of course not,” Scott agreed.
“You met him at the party, though, right? Did you get a maintenance guy vibe from him?”
“Uh, no. Absolutely not,” Scott agreed. He squinted and pursed his lips, his brain working to figure out the puzzle. “I want to say he quoted Thoreau at one point...”
“Maybe he’s just a well-read maintenance man, then. Nothing wrong with that!” Anjuli laughed before taking a sip of her tea. “Oh! And I forgot to tell you the best part...well, one of the best parts.” Scott’s eyes lit up in anticipation as she spilled out the news, “He’s Clark’s understudy!”
“Oh, you hate Clark,” Scott said with a grin. He apparently loved hearing all about Anjuli’s life because, as he fully admitted, his own was dull by comparison. Anjuli’s had been too until she shipped her daughter off to Penn State last year. Scott still had all four of his kids at home and told Anjuli regularly that his greatest fear was going broke putting his kids through school to the point where he’d never get a chance to enjoy life beyond parenthood.
“Well, I’m not a big fan of Clark, but I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.” She giggled as she took another sip of her tea. She and Scott were in the breakroom at work between clients. They were both independent contractors, hired by the same company to work with the veterans in this particular grant-funded program.
“Is that so?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I want to know if he has a big dick,” she explained wistfully. “Oh!” Her eyes grew wide with the realization of what her next confession would be. “Speaking of big dicks...”
“Let me guess...’maintenance guy’?” Scott asked.
“Oh my god. Scott, that thing is like a fucking baseball bat!”
“Shhh, Anjuli!” He laughed as he tried to quiet her down. The door to the lounge swung open, and a nurse popped in to put a tray in the microwave.
Anjuli’s cheeks glowed with embarrassment as she wondered if the nurse heard her last colorful statement. Oh, well. Judging by her sour demeanor, she could probably use a big dick in her life, Anjuli thought, but didn’t dare say it out loud, even though she knew Scott would be laughing his ass off if she did.
“So, I basically told him I was DTF,” she whispered. She could have sworn she saw the nurse’s ears prick up.
“DTF?” Scott whispered back. “Sorry, I don’t know all your...lingo.”
Anjuli rolled her eyes as she waited for the nurse to retrieve her meal from the microwave and leave the room. “Down to fuck,” she finally exhaled, as if it had been physically painful to keep those words shoved down her throat.
“Let me guess, he was pretty intrigued by that arrangement?” Scott was literally hanging on his chair. He’s kind of cute himself, Anjuli thought. But he’s married. And that’s a no-go...but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be down with it anyway...
“Oh, yeah, I think I have his interest,” she answered, licking her lips. She hadn’t felt this confident or exuberant...well, ever, if she was being honest.
Scott chuckled. “I have no doubt. Good for you, Juli. I’m happy for you.”
Nigel looked at her with an eyebrow raised in curiosity when she took her time packing up her things after rehearsal. “Not rushing home tonight?” he asked as he stuffed his script and notepad into his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder.
She smiled. “Not in a big hurry to go back to my apartment and be alone.” The truth was that she was hoping to run into Garrett again. She wondered how he’d gotten the understudy part when he was the maintenance guy. He and Nigel seemed to know each other. She was even more curious about his voice and acting abilities, but truth be told, the vast majority of her interest lay in something of a more carnal nature.
Ever since her last night with him, her pussy had been throbbing, wanting more of him. She’d masturbated every night since her party, but it wasn’t the same. It was as though her lady parts were ruined for toys or wicked fantasies. She wanted nothing but the real thing, the real thing being Garrett Stone. Or Nav, whatever that meant.
“Is Garrett here tonight?” she asked after completing yet another once-over of the house, looking for him.
Nigel laughed. “Oh, boy. Don’t tell me you have your sights set on Nav.” He stood with his arms crossed over his chest. At first she thought he was joking, but he looked much more serious the longer she waited to answer him.
“Oh, it’s not that—I just ran into him the other day at the liquor store near my apartment, and his, I guess...and I—” She thought about making up a story, but really, was it any of this guy’s business? He might be the director for Chicago, but he wasn’t the director of her life. She could do what she wanted. Besides, she was probably ten years his senior. Or more. Sigh. She didn’t want to think about how much older she was.
He chuckled a deep and melodic laugh that bubbled up from his chest cavity and then out into the silence of the auditorium. “Just be careful with that one, girl. Like playing with fire...from what I understand.” He gave her a wink, then made his way up the aisle, disappearing out one of the side doors.
She stood there alone until she heard a voice call from the back of the house. “Is it okay for me to turn off these lights?”
It was his voice. Not as deep as Nigel’s, but it had this unusual quality of being smooth and raspy all at the same time. How could that even be? she wondered, realizing how impossible it sounded. A paradox.
“Uh, sure, I was just leaving,” she called back, finally spotting him in the loft where the lighting rigs were. “Do you have a sec?”
He was quiet for just a moment, as if contemplating whether or not he could spare a “sec.” “Uh, sure. Be right down.”
She walked over to the staircase that went to the loft and waited for him to appear, his long legs first, and then his lean but muscular torso. She’d almost forgotten how handsome he was with his shock of red hair, matching beard and piercing green eyes. She took only a second to reflect on the fact that she felt very brave asking him to talk. She tried to envision the Anjuli of even six months ago doing that and couldn’t possibly bring that image to mind.
“How was rehearsal?” he questioned when both his feet were firmly planted on the floor.
“Good, good. I keep waiting for signs that Clark is going to take ill, and you’ll need to swoop in and save the day, but he seems okay so far.” She smiled up at him, searching his eyes for a reaction. “It’s a pity, actually.”
“Is it?” His eyes sparkled with a devious glint, as if he knew full well she was flirting, and he was going to up the ante. She immediately wondered if the green room was free...
“I was going to ask you what time you get off work,” she spit out before she lost her nerve. She couldn’t take him away from his work duties every night...could she?
“Not till midnight...”
She did some quick calculations in her head. If he got to her house by 12:30, they might be able to have a quick romp, and she could still get to work by 8:00...
Who needs sleep when sex with Garrett is an option?
“Wanna come by my place when you get off?” She totally emphasized the words “get off,” and it did not escape his notice.
He ran his fingers through his beard, which seemed to get just a tiny bit longer every time she saw him. “Sounds like fun...but, I have a guy coming over to check out my apartment first thing in the morning. I probably better get home and get some sleep.”
“Oh, that doesn’t sound like much fun.” She tried not to pout, but it definitely came out pout-like.
“Didn’t your parents ever teach you that life isn’t all fun and games?” A little chuckle burst out of him, strong enough to make his shoulders shake just a bit. “Maybe some other time though?”
“Yeah, that would be nice.” She smiled to hide her disappointment. Looked like she would be breaking out her vibe again tonight...probably an exercise in futility. “Oh, hey, let me give you my number. If nothing else, maybe we can hang out this weekend?” She pulled out a business card from her purse. She hated giving it to him with her business info on it, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t already been at her house. If he were going to stalk her, he already had the means to do so. Much to her dismay, he hadn’t. She scribbled her cell phone on the back of it and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said, taking it and stuffing it into his pocket.
She furrowed her brow. He didn’t seem the slightest bit excited by having her number. She’d practically thrown herself at him, and he wasn’t even fazed. Maybe I’m trying too hard, she determined, stepping back from him. “Okay, then. Have a good night.”
She thought it would be so wonderful if he’d throw his arms around her, shove her up against the wall and sear a kiss onto her lips, sending her into a dizzying tailspin of desire. But instead, he gave her the tiniest wave and smirk, followed by, “You too.”
Had he forgotten the steam and passion they’d brewed together in the green room just a few nights before? What the hell was wrong with this guy?
