Page 50 of Manhattan Secret

Just thinking of those forceful ocean eyes and his proficient hands that treated me gently yet put me in positions like I was his own fuck toy, and my circuits misfire and have me unconsciously thinking…wrong things.

I’m one ofthosewomen now. It’s unreal.

I want him so much it’s hurting me, and I know I shouldn’t want a man-boy and definitely not one I’m teaching.

It’s unethical on every level there is and not something I should be taking lightly at all. One of the first things they ever tell a high school teacher is never to fraternize with the students.

Fuck me. I fraternized so much last night, I’m sore.

My morals are surely in question and so is my addiction to lattes as I go up to the counter to order a fourth one.

I just place my takeout cup on the table next to my laptop and bag when I see a well-dressed lady holding her cup in one hand and a small plate with food in the other. She’s glancing around at the full tables. Everywhere is occupied except my table. I instantly wave her over. “You’re welcome to join me.”

Dressed in faded skinny jeans, beautiful pink booties I’ve seen in Vogue last month, the palest pink blouse tucked in neatly at the waist and a Gucci bag over her shoulder. Yeah, I clock that beauty instantly. I might not be able to afford designer bags, unless they’re a knock off, but I have such a lady-boner for all things purses.

You know those women who are just effortlessly stylish? This lady is it.

Her hair is cut in an asymmetrical long bob swinging around her face, her lips painted a pale pink, the same pastel shade as her nails. She appears near my mom’s age.

“Thank you.” She smiles, taking the seat opposite. “I was about to sit on the baristas lap if I couldn’t find anywhere.”

I chuckle. “I get that way too. Hell hath no fury like a woman who can’t enjoy her coffee in peace.”

“A woman after my own vengeful heart.” After a minute of silent coffee enjoyment she indicates to my open laptop. “Are you a writer? Coffee shops seem to be the place authors do all their sex scenes; I’m always dying to read the good stuff over their shoulder.”

I chuckle lightly. Such a cute lady.

Truth be told, I would have welcomed a distraction from the local whack-job if it meant I didn’t look at Lachlan’s text messages again telling me he misses my sweet body.

That boy has no filter whatsoever.

I’m fricking obsessed and delusional because that shit makes me smile so big.

“Oh, my god, no. I can’t string a sentence together to save my life, let alone write something steamy. I’m firmly in the camp of just enjoying romance books. This is for work. I’m a teacher, I’ve been grading papers for my 10thgraders, spoiler alert, they’re only averaging a C minus.”

“Oh, god. Better you than me. I think I’d be on my first murder charge before lunch.” The way her eyes crinkle at the corners with humor has me laughing out loud.

“Believe me, I feel that way sometimes. Kids come with massive egos as well as expensive cars. I had a battered Ford when I was in high school and I absolutely loved Dreamy.”

“I wish my hubby was here so he could hear this. He was the ego with the flash cars in school. He jokes with me that I went to school on a hay tractor because I was born and raised in the south. Such a damn snob with his Lexus.” She grins. Just from the twinkle in her eyes it’s obvious she’s crazy for her guy.

I smile wistfully with envy.

I want a relationship like that, someone I can joke about but be completely nuts for too. A relationship is made more impossible for the guy I want it with.

We share a few minutes of silence, her drinking her coffee, me sending assignments back to students. Then I begin to wonder.

This lady is impartial.

And she’s married. All married women have excellent advice for single gals.

She isn’t one of my besties who will tell me something I might want to hear.

“We only just met, and you might think I’m crazy asking for advice.”

She puts down her cup and slips her cell phone in her purse. “Ohhh…well this sounds like the beginning a Taylor Swift song.” When I blink blankly, she laughs. “God, I’m showing my age. She was before your time. Go on, tell me this crazy thing.”

“There’s this guy…”

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