The makeup artist Sophie had been talking to earlier was joined by her hairdresser husband. I smiled as I was introduced but then zoned out and went back to people watching. Hoping that imagining the interesting lives of the people around me would push away the thoughts of the dickhead that had abandoned me so long ago.
I turn back and start watching the beautiful people standing to the side of me when I notice a huge bald man come walking through the now crowded VIP area. People move out of his way, or he moves them as he makes his way through. He’s followed by a tall, dark-haired man. He looks about fifty and he’s gorgeous. If I was ever going to go for an older man, he would be it. He’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, his dark hair is longish and pushed back from his face, a mixture of grey and black stubble covers his chin. There’s just something about him that says, ‘I like sex’ written all over his face.
I’ve obviously gone without for far too long, apart that is from the shitty experience I’d had with my husband last Friday, which had offered me no release whatsoever.
I never usually look at men and think about what it would be like to get down and dirty with them, but my thoughts have been in the gutter a few times this week. First with naughty Nate the lawyer and now with this unknown random. Perhaps a shag with a complete stranger is exactly what I need. I wonder if I could live with myself after mindless sex with a stranger though? I finish my drink and grab another, thinking to myself, well there’s only one way to find out!
I watch as the DILF is followed by three children who are so very obviously his. Two boys and a girl aged about fourteen. The boys are the absolute image of their dad. The girl is tall, slim, with long dark hair and big brown eyes. They head toward the original group of BP’s, my new nickname for the crowd of genetically blessed human beings congregating to the side of the bar.
I watch as the DILF turns and watches a woman approach with a teenage girl. Again the woman is stunning, tall, slim, long brown hair and the bluest eyes I think I’ve ever seen on an olive skinned person. She too looks vaguely familiar, but I’ve far too much alcohol buzzing through my veins to try and think too hard about who she is. I’m sure it’ll come to me later. She stops right in front of me and says to the girl, who has her arms folded across her chest, “Stop sulking, Lula, I really don’t need this today.”
The girl turns toward her with a frown. “Let me stay downstairs then. Harley’s down there.”
The woman tilts her head and closes her eyes for a moment. She lets out a long breath.
“Harley is eighteen, you’re eleven. You are not going downstairs. You’ll stay up here with the rest of us and you will stop wearing a face that looks like a smacked arse. Do I make myself clear?”
Shit, eleven. I would’ve put her at fourteen or maybe even sixteen, easily. I was the opposite, thirty-one and still looked about twelve.
The girl stares at, who I assume is her mum through narrowed eyes but says nothing. Then flips her hair over her shoulder and heads toward the rest of the group. The DILF grabs the girl’s arm and says something into her ear. She shakes her head then nods. He says something else and she smiles the biggest smile, stands on her tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek and walks over to the rest of their party.
I’m entranced, sipping on my champagne as I watch all of their interactions. Emboldened by my alcohol consumption, I continue watching, unashamedly.
The woman approaches the man. “How did you do that? What did you promise to make her smile like that?”
The DILF smiles the sexiest, lopsided smile I think I’ve ever seen as he looks at the woman. If I believed everything that I was taught during my Catholic education, I’d swear to God and all that is holy, that my ovaries just exploded watching him smile at the woman like that. He pulls her into him and whispers into her ear, all the while, he has one hand cupping the back of her head, the other has a handful of her arse cheek. He bends his knees slightly so that he can look into the woman’s eyes and my heart melts.
I want that! What they have. The way that he looks at her. I want a man to want me like that. She leans in and kisses him on the mouth and grinds herself against him.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
She’s in a public place. A room packed with celebrities and her children present, and she doesn’t care. I want to be her. I want to be as brave as her. I want to love someone so much that I would be brave enough to not give a fuck about who might be watching me behave like that.
My heart hurts and I can’t help but feel a little bit angry and resentful. Why can’t that be me? I just want to feel loved, cherished and wanted. I want someone to look at me like nothing else in the world exists. I want someone to want me, to need me like they need air. I just want to be loved.
I wipe the tears, that I’ve just become aware have fallen, from my cheeks and try to compose myself, when I hear Sophie say from beside me, “Oh fuck! Fucking hell. Shit.” I turn and look at her but she’s not looking at me, she’s staring straight ahead. I follow her gaze and my heart slams into my rib cage and stops, dead.
Conner