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Talk?

Lunchtime Saturday and Steve's texting, right on schedule, -Yeah, hi.

-Whatcha doin today?

Hmm. I'm probably going to be doing something with an also married co- worker who texts like he's a thirteen year old girl, -Nothing.

-Hungry?

-Sure. We'll meet at our usual place, a dimly lit Irish pub with nice high backed booths. Privacy's important when you're sneaking around. His Mustang's there when I arrive. I wave the hostess off, and look for him myself. As I search the butterflies stir. What am I doing? If someone were to ask me, "If you were going to cheat who would it be with?" My answer would have been Gerard Butler, or the less specific, some rich guy. It definitely wouldn't have been the very average Steve. Then why am I here? He provides me with the answer when I arrive at the table.

"Hey Mel."

His face was lit up, particularly his eyes, eyes filled with desire for little ol' me. That's why I was here. It made me incredibly hot to ...

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