Obsession. Kayla Perrin

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      “Going to take two Advil before we head out for dinner. Because if I’m going to continue to drown my sorrows in alcohol, I’m going to need more than popcorn in my stomach.”

      Marnie smiled.

      “And the last thing I want is a migraine if I might possibly meet the man of my dreams tonight.”

      Now Marnie laughed. “That’s the spirit.”

      I continued to the bedroom. I didn’t really plan on meeting anyone, but I was up for a fun evening of music and dancing.

      There was no point spending the night alone in an empty house that would only remind me of Andrew.

      6

      As Marnie drove us to CityWalk, I couldn’t help thinking about her words.

      And Andrew’s unorthodox suggestion.

      Maybe my friend was right. Maybe I needed to see what else was out there, experience being with a new man before I decided what I’d do next. At the very least, I needed a diversion. Something to distract me from thoughts of Andrew cheating and the possible lawsuit his scorned lover might launch against him.

      The more I mulled over the idea, the more it appealed to me. After all, I’d given Andrew no reason to cheat. I loved him. I did as much as I could to be the best wife possible. And we got along well, even if the passion of our earlier years had waned.

      If he’d wanted to recharge that passion, he could have suggested something to me. Anything, really. It wasn’t as if Andrew and I couldn’t talk.

      That’s what made his cheating even harder to accept. That he wasn’t the type of man I expected would betray me before talking to me about a problem.

      “Do you think he isn’t attracted to me anymore?” I suddenly asked.

      Marnie glanced at me as if I were crazy. “What?”

      “You know. Maybe he wanted me decked out in miniskirts and tank tops all the time or something.”

      “Now this is what bugs me. Women always end up blaming themselves when their man cheats. Trust me, I know.” Marnie stopped at a light, then made a right turn. “You’re beautiful, sexy, and if Andrew cheated, he’s the one with the problem—not you. That’s my whole point about seeing what else is out there. Another man—the kind who’d never betray you—might just sweep you off your feet.”

      “And I thought you were such a cynic,” I teased.

      “How many people are on the planet? Five billion? At least a few of those guys have to be decent and trustworthy. Oh—and hot as hell.” Marnie grinned devilishly, as though that last qualification was the most important.

      “Of course,” Marnie continued, “if you decide just to look, that’s perfectly fine. A little eye candy never hurt nobody.”

      “If nothing else, I’m going to have a good time tonight. You always make me laugh.”

      We decided on BB King’s Blues Club, since we could kill two birds with one stone there—enjoy authentic Southern cuisine while listening to a live band.

      I was dressed to the nines, in a short black skirt and low-cut red top that had heads turning as I stepped into the club. Marnie was wearing a leopard print dress that showed off her voluptuous curves. I’d been determined to head out and find a little action, but I halted, suddenly unsure.

      “Hey,” Marnie said in a low voice. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Knowing me as well as she did, she’d clearly picked up on my hesitation. “And there’s no guilt if you do choose to go for what you want. If you meet someone you like, think of it as a freebie.”

      A freebie…it was an odd way to look at having an affair. And yet, Andrew had given me not only his blessing but his encouragement to go out and even the score.

      “Right.” I rolled my shoulders backward to work out some of the tension, then smiled when the hostess appeared and asked if we wanted a table or to sit at the bar.

      “A table,” Marnie said. “Close to the stage, if possible.”

      At seven-thirty, we were seated at a table near the stage. At eight, the band began to play. Flip Side, a group of three men in their thirties and one woman with long dreads of about the same age, started their set off with “The Thrill is Gone,” B.B. King’s duet with Tracy Chapman, which warmed the crowd. Then they played some classic B.B. King numbers, some Ray Charles, Ida Cox and other blues artists from the early twentieth century. By the time they rocked the house with some Jimi Hendrix rock ’n’ roll blues, everyone was either dancing, clapping or toe tapping.

      When the female singer announced that there would be an intermission before the next set, Marnie touched my hand. I looked her way. “Have you noticed a certain someone checking you out?” she asked.

      “No,” I replied, and began looking around. I caught the eye of an older gentleman, who winked at me. I returned my gaze to Marnie. “Who are you talking about?”

      “You really have been out of the game too long,” she said. “The drummer,” she went on, in a tone that said the answer was obvious.

       “The drummer?” I quickly looked toward the stage.

      “Isn’t he cute?”

      I checked him out. He was thin, tall, and sported short dreadlocks. “Yes, he’s definitely cute. But not really my type.”

      Marnie gaped at me. “What are you talking about? He’s hot.”

      “Yeah…just not my type.”

      “I don’t think he’d agree,” Marnie said in a singsong voice.

      “You’re seeing things,” I told Marnie. “He didn’t check me out once.”

      “He totally was,” Marnie insisted. “You should go talk to him. I think he’d make a good booty call.”

      I glanced toward the stage. There was a flock of women swarming the band. I shook my head at the pitiable sight. All those women hoping to bed a musician, or maybe even find a sugar daddy.

      That wasn’t for me.

      “Marnie, stop worrying about my sex life. I’m out having a good time. That’s all that matters.”

      “Oh, no-no-no.” She wagged a finger at me. “You’re gonna meet someone.”

      Rolling my eyes, I laughed. “Sure, whatever you say.”

      My gaze wandered around the bar. There were some attractive men here, but most of them were with dates. I wasn’t against the idea of meeting someone, if a guy here got me excited.

      And maybe Marnie was right. I had married Andrew young. Until a few days ago, I’d never questioned that decision. But what if Andrew’s affair was a sign that we’d drifted apart, that we weren’t meant to live happily ever after?

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