Circle of "Friends"

Loyalty, a concept that is beyond lost. What used to be the foundation of any good relationship is now better suited as a noun describing how one’s dog behaves. The night Ralph Lauren Guy came to New York, his friend alluded to just how un-loyal he was willing to be; I couldn’t wait to find out.

The sun poured down onto my shoulders, I could feel my tan deepening. It was just past 5PM on Monday and I polished off my third drink of the day as I strolled through SOHO en route to my weekly dinner date.

A few months back I had been enjoying my usual glass of Chablis at Balthazar when I made friends with this amazing 70-year-old man. A retired ad exec he is now pursuing his true calling as an author; dinning at Balthazar on Monday’s for inspiration. Since we met it has become a weekly tradition that I join.  

My phone buzzed on the bar and my friend laughed. He was always teasing me how I couldn’t go more than 2 seconds without getting some action on my mobile. It was Ralph Lauren Guy’s friend. He was heading for dinner and wanted me to join. I laughed, why would I head to Brooklyn in this heat. He insisted, said he would have a car outside Balthazar in 10 to collect me. How could I refuse?

I touched up my lipstick as the car approached the famed Brooklyn steakhouse. I was barely in the door and The Friend had placed a glass of wine in my hand and an arm around my waist. We stood amongst his other beautiful friends laughing and drinking until we ready to dine.

Throughout dinner he had his hand on my leg, his grip firm. I could tell he was aching to get me home and have his way with me. I sat with his hand pressed into my skin but could not help eying his friend across the table.

He was there with a date and it was clear that he would be going home with her, just as I would be going home with The Friend. Throughout dinner we expertly played our roles as objects-of-desire to our respective dates, but we both kept eyes locked on each other.

Post dinner drinks at the bar had us all rather smashed and I walked towards the bathroom in pursuit of The Friend’s friend. We stood inches away from each other; the electricity between us was insane. I wanted him to push me against the wall, kiss me hard, slide his hands over my breasts and kiss my neck. I wanted to feel how turned on I had him. 

Instead we stood there, barely speaking; it was clear what we both wanted. The Friend approached, asked if I was ready to leave; I smiled and nodded. As we headed for the door I slipped The Friend’s friend my number, gently sliding the piece of paper into his pocket as I kissed his cheek goodbye.

I couldn’t wait to see what The Friend had in store for me and I hoped that I wouldn’t have to wait to get to his place to find out.