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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2258870
Never mind dessert.
Bon Apetit


At breakfast, Marjorie said, "Let's meet for dinner after work."

Damon paused. Did Janelle and he have plans? No. He said, several beats later than he should have, "Okay. Where?"

"That Thai place around the corner from your office. How about 6:30?"

"Sounds good," he said. It did sound good. A guy should take his wife to dinner sometimes.

At 6:30, Damon walked into the restaurant. It was nice to not have to cover anything up. He'd gotten good at coming home late at night from the "office" and jumping into the shower right away to wash off Janelle's aroma, but he still worried. He could bury his shirt in the laundry basket, but he couldn't very well wash his suit. "A wife knows," his pal Jeremy had said to him once as they waited for their tee time at the club. Damon hadn't said anything in return. He didn't know whether it was true. Actually, he did know. It was true. After that, Damon went a week without seeing Janelle.

Damon spotted Marjorie at a table across the restaurant, in a corner. He smiled and started to wave. Then he saw her. Janelle. She was getting up from a stool at the bar. He thought, It's just a coincidence. He looked around to see if any of Janelle's friends were there, if she was meeting them. He knew many of them. He liked them, but he had a feeling they didn't like him.

Damon watched Janelle walk to Marjorie's table. They shook hands, managing to smile. Damon swiveled his head around and looked at the door. Then he looked back at the women. No dice. Marjorie had spotted him over Janelle's shoulder.

Damon headed for the table, wishing her were on the first tee with his pal Jeremy.


(Word count: 299)
9/22/21
         
1

         

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