Chapter 1
Sadie
“Well? Has it arrived?” asked my best friend, Gabriella. I could practically see the coy smirk that inevitably crept across her lips on the other end of the phone.
“Not yet,” I said as I plopped my leather handbag on the small entryway table and kicked off my black pumps, the front door shutting behind me. My feet practically screamed in relief as they met the cool, hard wood.
“It said it was going to be delivered today,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“You’re really worked up by this, aren’t you?” I asked as I looked around the living room. It still didn’t feel like home yet, but then again I had only been here for a few days, and it technically wasn’t my apartment. It was Martin’s, an Airbnb host that I practically begged to take me in. I was desperate.
“I’m just worried about you…” said Gabriella.
“You act like not getting laid is life-threatening.” I rolled my eyes, as if she could see me all the way in Boston.
“There have been studies…”
“There have not!” I laughed, padding into the corner kitchen and opening up one of the white upper cabinets. I stood on my tiptoes and reached for a wine glass, pulling it down and carefully setting it on the white marbled countertop. I grabbed the bottle of red wine that sat on the counter from yesterday’s market trip, uncorked it, and poured a generous serving. The sound of theglug glug glugof the crimson liquid relaxed me after a long workday. It was cruel to be forced in to work on a Saturday, but it was busy season, and I would never say no.
Aside from the much-deserved glass of wine, if Gabriella’s presentdidarrive tonight, I needed something to work up the nerve to use whatever she had picked out and a little buzz would help. Gabriella had spent the better part of last week scouring the web for the best reviewed sex toys to break my dry spell.
“Well, maybe it’s not life-threatening, but I do know there’s a study that says having orgasms makes you live longer.”
Okay. I’m pretty sure I had read that article in one of my glossy magazine subscriptions. If you couldn’t trustCosmopolitan,what could you trust?
“Whatdidyou end up sending me?” I asked curiously, padding into the bedroom.
“You’ll have to wait and see, but they came highly rated.”
“They?” I asked.
“You can never have enough. I just sent you the tracking link, by the way.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I said with a shake of my head, even though I could feel myself growing impatient for her gifts to arrive. The truth was, I needed a release. After being dumped two weeks ago, I had started to grow restless. Still, I hadn’t used a sex toy in years, which was why I needed the wine to take the edge off in case I had the opportunity to use one—or more—tonight.
“You know you love me,” said Gabriella with a taunting confidence.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered.
“How is the new place?” asked Gabriella, changing the subject.
“Still getting used to it,” I said, glancing around the bedroom with furniture that wasn’t mine. The one large window looked out over the busy street below with a small glimpse at Central Park, shades of sherbet from the setting sun filling the room. It was a view I could get used to, but knew I shouldn’t because itwasn’t for forever. It was just temporary until I sorted my life out, which right now felt like an impossible task.
“I’ll come visit soon, okay?” Gabriella demanded, as if she knew what was on my mind. Best friends had that way about them, no matter how many miles separated you.
“Okay. I’d like that.”
“In the meantime, just stay busy with work and…your new toys.” She stifled a giggle.
“I’ll let you know when they arrive.”
“Bye!” she said in a sing-song voice.
I hit the redendbutton on my screen and pressed the side button to make the screen go dark. I tossed my phone on the bed before rummaging through the black dresser against the wall. I found my usual weekend attire, a pair of worn leggings and a soft knit sweater, and changed out of my work clothes.
I walked back to the living room and plopped onto the couch. I took another long sip of wine, letting the oaky flavor sit on my tongue before washing it down my throat, warming my insides. With a sigh, I sank further into the deep green velvet couch. It was a good couch. My eyes scanned the framed black-and-white prints on the walls. Martin decorated well. My mind traveled to what he might look like. I wondered if he was single. That was when I realized just how desperate I was for some sort of release.I was fantasizing about an Airbnb host I had never met or even spoken to on the phone.
“Get a grip,” I said quietly to myself.
