Second Love

Chapter 2

I arrive in Portland and my internal clock is suddenly thrown back 3 hours. Luckily, I know how to hold my liquor from all those business meetings drinking scotch and being smothered with clouds of cigar clouds. I would not consider myself a lightweight, but it's 6 hours later so I know I'm fine to drive.

I retrieve my Gucci bags from baggage claim and head to Enterprise Rental Car. I overwhelmed with joy that the Mercedes Benz I requested is available, though I would have preferred it to be black or white, I'm happy to take the keys to a dark blue one.

The man at the counter walks me out and helps me place my bags in my car. I feel almost awkward as I sense him checking out my ass. No doubt, Matt was always a fan of my body which I playfully teased him with, but I wouldn't have noticed if any man checked me out for the past year anyway. My ring is no longer on my left ring finger but moved to my middle left so of course the world would think I'm single and free game, but all I want to do is vomit at his gesture.

I quickly start the engine and admire the sound of the car purr itself to life. I speed out and make my way to Bridgeport. Its mid-August and high 70's. I'm sitting comfortably in my yoga pants while admiring the trees surrounding the highway. The kids are starting school on Monday so Hilary says she wants to go out tomorrow night. Apparently, she's at a "play date" with some women in her group of friends so I plan on enjoying a quiet evening in the bathtub with fashion magazines and a bottle...or two of white wine.

I finally pull into a cute B&B. I get out of the car and stretch my legs before heading to the office. I shift my gaze and look at the property... it's something out of a fairy-tale considering there's a large main house with a few small cottages some yards down covered in vines, flowers, and luscious trees.

I enter the main house and a sweet old lady hands me an old fashion metal key, something you would open an enchanted closet with and tells me that my cottage is the last one in the row #6. She also provides me with details about their daily social hour, tea time, and their small library. All I want is the damn WIFI password.

I grab my bags and walk down the cobble walkway. I open the door and find myself in a room out of a story book that I once read as a child. There's a small living room with a fire place in front of me with a kitchen off to the side and a small bedroom with a bathroom linked to it. It's decorated like a beach house with shells, flowers, and cute beach signs. I drop my bags on the queen size bed and unload my clothes hanging up each of my designer clothes with care in the closet.

After I unload, I grab my keys and climb back in my Mercedes with the intent to find a grocery store with liquor. I don't plan to do much cooking...but then again I never did. New York has 24 hour takeout, delivery, and gyms so I never had a problem. But Bridgeport, I swear... everything closes at 9. Speaking of which its 7:30pm and I need to hurry. I peal out of the gravel parking lot and head to a nearby grocery store that I'm not surprised still exists.

Unsure if anyone from my high school lives here I quickly go through the isles browsing for pre-made salads, yet come up empty handed. I guess they don't believe in that sort of stuff? So I grab multiple items in the produce section, typical breakfast foods like cereal, and of course grab a few bags of chocolate, bottles of wine, what seems to be there idea of fashion magazines, and bubble bath stuff. I pay at the checkout and head out.

I arrive back at my cottage and text my sister

Me: Hey sis! I'm finally here. Made it alive. See you tomorrow at 9pm?

Hilary: Hey! Finishing up the play date. Yes, meet me at JoJo's at 9pm. Look hot.

Me: Me, hot? Too easy. It's all about you. I'm just the wing-man.