Love In Rewind (2 page)

I was at the party helping out my older sister Jenna. Her event planning company was hosting this gathering for a well-known real estate firm. Jenna had a last minute scheduling nightmare when two of her servers called in sick. My sis called me thirty minutes before the event was scheduled to start, frantically begging me for help.

"Emmy, how would you like to make a few extra bucks and save your loving older sister from a disaster of epic proportions?"

I loved Jenna when she was desperate.

"Okay JenJen, I'll bite. What did you have in mind for me?"

It was the summer before I started my first year of college. I was fresh out of high school with no real excitement in my life, especially in the boy department. I was not one of those forward or overly expressive girls. I would even go so far as to say that I was shy and guarded. I would never openly ogle a boy or, in this case, a man. That was more my best friend Sara's department. If it wasn't for Sara and her big mouth my first kiss would still be with my
Johnny Depp
poster. She practically forced me to kiss Steven Owens at our junior prom. During a slow dance she pushed me into that poor boy and mouthed,
"Kiss him now!"
I still feel like such a moron every time I think about that kiss; it was hands down the driest peck ever. Johnny on my wall got more tongue action than Steven.

That night, however, I was completely enchanted by this very sexy older male specimen that I kept a watchful eye on. Very uncharacteristically, I kept trying to be in his way. I was offering him and his colleagues champagnes and canapés. He had yet to say a single word to me. I was starved for any kind of verbal acknowledgement from him. In my head A-Ha was on loop singing
Take On Me
.
But all I got from him was a nod and a dimple-less smile. It seemed my eyes were having a silent one way tète-à-tète, scanning and admiring him sans words. My delusions of grandeur finally came to a screeching halt a few hours later. He (the most beautiful man in the world) abruptly left with two attractive women a few minutes before the party officially ended.

All I got was one last glance and a knowing smile from him before he slipped away and out of my life. His sudden absence left me shocked and hurt. In my utopian paradise he was head over heels for me and waited by the door until I finished serving him and his friends to profess his love. I was a silly little eighteen-year-old. I must've watched
Love Story
one too many times. Jenna always told me that most boys were jerks. If you give them what they want too quickly, they take it and move on to their next conquest.

That night when I was in bed trying to sleep, I remember childishly crying at his rejection. I was heartbroken and mad at myself and at him. I had so much bottled up sexual tension from the whole frustrating evening that I had to touch myself. I visualized him kissing me, and while touching my sensitive breasts I could imagine it was him rolling my aching nipples between his long tanned fingers. I fantasized about that gorgeous man for hours until I finally made myself climax for the first time in my life. I didn't know what I was feeling but it felt liberating to let go and surrender to my needs. My body was wound up so tight that when that first spasm ripped through my body I almost launched off the bed. I tried touching myself and making myself orgasm before that night, but nothing had ever come close to what I'd just felt. Sara told me about her first orgasm but until then I had no idea what she was really talking about.

I wasn't able to stop myself from thinking about him all the time. I kept wishing I were prettier, taller, older, and sexier so he would've wanted to talk to me that night. I imagined X-rated scenarios in my head of him with those two women. He probably sat in a chair facing a big bed with his long muscular legs parted and watched the two women take off all their clothes for him. I pictured him telling them in his sexy deep voice to make out with each other in front of him, like in that movie
Wild Things
that I just watched a few weeks ago. They would eventually all have sex together.
Lucky women,
I thought.

The next day I had it all worked out in my head. My dream man must have thought I was just a silly little waitress at that gathering. I was probably too short for him. He must like his women tall and model material, not girls like me, right out of high school. I'd always considered myself
cute
but nothing that would make someone say
Oh my God; she's drop dead gorgeous.
Well, my parents say I am, but they're biased. My full boobs always make me look heavier than I really am. I was only one hundred and ten pounds back then, and at five-foot-three, my 32C gave the illusion of a much plumper girl. I always wished I were tall and flat like the girls on the covers of
Seventeen
magazine, but my sister always said that men loved girls with my kind of body.
Maybe some men but definitely not this particular man
, I thought sadly.

I told Sara, my promiscuous alter ego, through whom I've always lived vicariously, all about him. But she just laughed and told me to practice on boys before I go after men. She was so right. A week later, however, I was still masturbating to the image of him any chance I got. I even went out to Greenwich Village with her to buy a vibrator in one of those shady sex stores. I was starting to get carpal tunnel syndrome in my wrists from my new favorite pastime of stimulating my genitals to thoughts of the hottest man I'd ever laid eyes on.

"Start with this one," Sara said picking up a pink colored gigantic appendage off the shelf. I noticed the pimply-faced guy at the counter tear his eyes away from the lewd porno playing on the big screen TV and raise an eyebrow at us and smile.

"Put that down, Sara, that's huge!" I protested, trying to hide the embarrassing silicone toy unsuccessfully.

"Emily, you're dreaming of a man and you can't even look at a dildo? What happens when some guy whips out his dick and says 'touch it'? We're buying this vibrating dick and you're going to pretend it's your new best friend. This pink penis will know you better than you know yourself," she said, as we made our way to pimply-faced guy at the counter. We still had to pay and take home my new handheld best friend without me fainting of embarrassment.

I remember one morning when my house was weirdly quiet. Both parents were at work and the housekeeper was running errands. I quickly ran upstairs as if I were being chased. I locked the door to my room and leaped towards my bed. My brain was way ahead of my actions. I removed my pajamas and panties and before I lay down on my fluffy bed I put one of my favorite songs on. The song I always imagined would play in the background while I was making love for the first time. Berlin filled my room with their song,
Take My Breath Away
.

Once I closed my eyes I didn't need to imagine Maverick—a.k.a.
Tom Cruise
—in my bed. I had a much better stand-in in mind. It was him touching me and not my own hands. He was the one slowly running his fingers down the valley between my aching breasts. He was the one slipping his fingers into my wet core. Since no one was home I moaned as loudly as I wanted. "Oh, yes, please don't stop. God, I want you so much." A delicious feeling spread through my body. I didn't need a vibrator that morning. I just needed me, him, and Berlin. I harshly pumped my fingers in and out of my clenching hole at a frantic pace. All I could feel was him. All I could taste was him. It was all him, him, HIM. "God, I'm coming … oh God, I'm coming!" The song wasn't even halfway through and I was already a wet limbless mess thanks to HIM. I was begging my gorgeous apparition to stay with me and cuddle me forever. But my phantom always left me silently…

I had to find him, just so I could sharpen the fuzzy image I had of him and improve my erotic fantasies. I started doing research into finding and getting another glance at my dream boyfriend. I knew his first and last name because I'd overheard my sister talking to him that night before he vanished. Jenna referred to him as
Louis
so my guess was that they must be acquaintances of some kind.

I also remembered when Louis headed toward the door for his grand escape. He was holding the door open for his chosen tarts, and while glancing my way for a silent farewell someone stopped him by the door and shook his hand saying loud enough for me to hear, "Great party, Mr. Bruel
.
"

With a first and last name I was able to figure out that he must be one of the owners of Bruel Industries, the company hosting the event Jenna planned. With a little more investigating I located the main offices of Bruel Industries, which just happened to be on the Upper East Side, within walking distance of my house. I also found some pictures of him online with a different girl in every shot. It was safe to say that Louis Bruel definitely got around.

I had to take a stroll and see where he worked. I was like a groupie hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I passed his building at least twice a day with no reward. I just couldn't stop thinking about him. I was becoming pathetic and totally obsessed. I called Sara; I had to talk to somebody.

"
Every Breath You Take
by The Police," I said as soon as she picked up the phone.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Have you been stalking him, you idiot? He could be married or gay or both."

Sara and I had this thing since we were twelve, where we expressed our feelings through ‘80s song titles. Since we knew the lyrics to almost every song that came out of the ‘80s, naming the title and artist of a song would eliminate us having to spell things out. It was our little secret language. It was great. We could be anywhere, around anybody and all we had to do was say the title of a song and we instantly knew exactly what was up. We both believed that every human emotion has been expressed in a song written in the ‘80s. Basically, ‘80s songs made up the playlist of our lives.

"I have to see him again. Sara, I really feel possessed by him."

"I'm giving you another week to get your rocks off to Mr. Not Happening and then we're sneaking out to a club with my brother and his friends and hooking up with random guys … deal?"

"Deal," I agreed reluctantly. I didn't think I'd ever lay eyes on anyone who could hold a candle to Mr. Not Happening.

Every night I couldn't fall asleep until I climaxed to his image in my head. In my dreams Louis Bruel was doing all kinds of things to me. The things I only knew about from books and movies I probably shouldn't have been reading or watching in the first place. Just saying his name out loud would make me up—excited and dampened my panties. I could feel his lips kissing me, and his talented fingers touching me everywhere. I could visualize him going down on me and using his tongue to taste me down there. I would sometimes even orgasm in my sleep. I could only pretend to know what all those things felt like. I'd wake up drenched in sweat and even more aroused than when I went to sleep. I was beyond pathetic.

I couldn't ask Jenna about Louis. She wouldn't understand why I was inquiring about one of her clients. A real man not a boy, a man who had nothing to do with me. So, naturally I went to her husband, Mike. Jenna and Mike had been married for three years. They owned the event planning company together. Mike did all the marketing, booking, and logistical things for their company, Crown Affairs. Jenna had a creative flair for putting together spectacular events. She had a knack for transforming any given space into a beautiful backdrop to create a memorable affair. I came to visit them at their Lexington office in midtown under the pretense of taking my overworked sister out for lunch. Of course, I knew that every Tuesday afternoon was when Jenna got together with her friends—a.k.a. employees—to go over the events they have coming up. Mike was in his spacious office and greeted me with a big smile, immediately hanging up on whoever he was chatting with.

"Hey you, what brings you down to our humble establishment?"

"Do I need a reason to come see my hard working sister and my favorite brother-in-law?" I asked, making my way over to him.

"Emily … I'm your only brother-in-law," Mike snickered.

"Ha-ha. But you're still my favorite," I said, coming closer to give him a hug and kiss.

I loved Mike; he was the big brother I never had. I'd known him as long as I could remember. Jenna was lucky to have such an amazing guy as both her husband and business partner. I hoped one day I'd find someone who'd love and respect me the way he did my older sister. When Jenna walked into a room Mike stopped breathing. The same was true for Jenna. They were both beautiful, with light blond hair and light colored eyes. Jenna and I have our mother's aqua colored blue eyes. Mike, on the other hand, has intense piercing green eyes. I could only imagine how gorgeous their kids would be when they decided to multiply.

Mike started telling me that I'd just missed Jenna; she'd gone to Balthazar to have lunch with Maya and Anna.

"They have a big couple of weeks coming up. We have some last minute functions we're scrambling to put together. My good buddy from business school runs this real estate firm uptown. Maybe you've heard of it, Bruel Industries?"

I stopped breathing when Mike mentioned Louis' firm.

"So he booked us for four events back to back. He can't stop talking about the last party Jenna put together for his company. About a week ago, I think it was."

"Nine days ago," I corrected him. "I was there helping JenJen out, when two of your waitresses called in sick at the last minute, remember?"

Mike smiled and said, "Yeah, Jenna told me you really bailed her ass out that night. She said you were pretty good. You know, Emily, if you'd like a summer gig before you start NYU we'd love for you to work here. We're always hiring."

Wow, this was better than just talking about Louis; this would ensure I'd actually see the Adonis live.

"Really? Thanks," I said as calmly as I could, considering I was jumping up and down inside. "Maybe that's not a bad idea. I am free all summer."