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on my
bedside table, I only had a half hour to shower and make myself look stunning
before Sylvia would be knocking on my front door. I still didn’t think I was
ready to face the night ahead of me but after the dream I’d had about the stranger,
I was even more concerned about my current mental health.
    I made my way to
the shower for the second time in the same day to wash away remnants of a man whose
name I didn’t even know. I closed my eyes and thought about the dream. Not only
had it rekindled all of the overwhelming desires that I had for him but there
was a hint of something new lurking under the surface as well. Who was the waitress
and why did I feel such a strong attraction to her ?
    I replayed
images of the dream except that in my mind’s eye the waitress was replaced by Sylvia’s
face as she straddled over top of me and massaged my breaths. I opened my eyes
in alarm and gasped. No, it would never happen, especially not with Sylvia.
    I turned off the
shower, towel dried quickly, and made my way to the closet wondering exactly
what someone would wear when being set up for a night of sex with a stranger.
Inevitably, this brought my mind back to the man that I really wanted and the
way that my rain soaked t-shirt clung to my skin when we met. I sighed and
pulled out a simple black cocktail dress. It had spaghetti straps and a deep
v-neck, which seemed appropriate for the occasion. The length brought it to
just about mid-thigh, which left me to ponder whether or not I should go to the
trouble of stockings or take a chance and leave my legs bare. I opted for a
pair of thigh highs that I found stuffed into the back of my underwear drawer and
thanked my lucky stars that they didn’t appear to have any tears in them. I
couldn’t remember the last time I’d have worn such a thing but it must have
been while I was still dating Ed, probably in the earlier more hopeful part of
our relationship. This realization hit me with a sense of despair. A part of me
still missed him and wondered if any man could ever make me forget him.
    The doorbell
brought me out of my memories and I jumped up and checked myself in the mirror
once more before letting Sylvia in. I held my breath as I waited for her
assessment. She gave me a quick hug and looked me up and down nodding her
approval. She was dressed in a shimmering silver cocktail dress that flattered
her tiny waist and ample breasts. My eyes lingered longer on the way her dress
displayed her cleavage but she didn’t seem to notice.
    “Come on,” she
said taking my hand and leading me back to the bedroom indicating for me to sit
on the bed, “We need a few finishing touches.”
    “It isn’t
necessary, really,” I protested but I sat as she instructed and waited as she
dug through her hand bag for the cosmetics she felt best suited our evening. I
closed my eyes as she applied eye shadow and mascara and painted my lips no
doubt a shade of red that I wouldn’t ordinarily be caught dead wearing. I was
never one for wearing a lot of make-up. Once she declared that she’d finished
her masterpiece, I avoided looking in the mirror. I didn’t like not recognizing
the person that stared back at me.
    She stepped back
and looked at me.
    “Oh yes, he’s
going to like you.”
    “I’m not sure I
can go through with this,” I said watching her readjust her dress as she looked
in my full length mirror. I couldn’t stop myself from noticing the way her
skirt lifted as she bent over to fuss with her shoe. My face flushed and I
turned away as she brought her attention back to me.
    “Don’t be
ridiculous,” she said, “You will thank me for this later. If he’s anything like
Ben, it is going to be one of the best nights of your life.”
    “I very much
doubt that,” I said following her into the living room. It was time to go. I
could see the excitement in Sylvia’s eyes and I wondered if it was more because
of the fact that she’d been looking for a reason to see Ben again