Today’s writing prompts for the 3TC over at The Haunted Wordsmith are after hours, affair, share.
Frankie bartends at a 1980s after hours club in downtown Denver, called Rail. His wife Celeste, is none too pleased with this, but she has to admit the money he brings home is phenomenal. Yet, Celeste’s worries are well-founded. The last time Frankie worked as a bartender he’d had an affair with a
bimbo woman named Brandi (with a tiny circle over the “i”). It was not just a no-strings, hit & run, one-time thing; this was a serious, full-blown love affair. Everybody knew about it and of course, Celeste was the last to find out.
It had been close, but Celeste and Frankie were able to save their marriage. Brandi had since moved to a different state and hopefully began a happy, new life.
In any case, that was then and this is now, as they say.
One night, when Frankie was getting ready to go to work, he picked out a brand new silk shirt and paired it with his best black slacks. By the end of his shift, both would be ruined: sweat stains, spilled booze, who knew what else. Suddenly, Celeste had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t let on that she suspected anything, though.
As soon as Frankie left, Celeste hopped on the phone & called up her BFF, Gracie (no tiny circle over the “i”).
“Gracie? Hey it’s me, Celeste.”
“Yeah? I’ve only known you for fifteen years; I recognized your voice.”
“Smart ass. Listen, I think Frankie’s screwing around again. Wanna go down to Rail with me?”
“Sure! I’m always up for an adventure.”
“K. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
Celeste hung up the phone and commenced to get dressed up in the sexiest outfit she could find. She’d gained a few pounds since she’d last worn the strapless gold lamé dress, but she was still able to zip it up without too much fat spilling over the back. What did it matter? She wouldn’t be there long anyway.
By the time Celeste and Gracie pulled into Rail’s parking lot, it was 2:30am and the place was packed.
“This is perfect!” Celeste said. “Frankie won’t notice us amongst a crowd like this.”
“Except for the fact you’re wearing gold lamé and that amazeballs mop of blonde hair,” Gracie pointed out.
“Who cares? We’ll hang out in the back.”
There was a long line of people waiting to get in, but Celeste and Gracie were able to butt-in line since Frankie worked there.
Once inside, they found a small table toward the back of the club. “Time after Time” by Cyndi Lauper was blasting from the speakers. How appropriate, Celeste thought.
Luckily, the cocktail waitress who came to take their order was a new-hire, and didn’t know Celeste. They’d each ordered a glass of champagne, and settled back to watch every move Frankie made. For awhile everything seemed on the up & up; Frankie made drinks and small talk with a couple of guys.
And then it happened.
“Oh, my God,” Celeste blinked.
“What?” Gracie asked. “What is it?
“That bitch Brandi is back. If she ever even left.”
“Which one is she?” Gracie strained to see.
“That little brunette with the big hair. See her?”
“Oh, the one kissing Frankie at the end of the bar, you mean?”
Celeste watched her husband tickle Brandi’s tonsils for several seconds, and then downed the rest of her champagne.
“Watch this, Gracie.”
“What are you going to do?!”
Celeste didn’t hear her as she sauntered toward Frankie and Brandi. They were still kissing when Celeste was right up on them, so she tapped Frankie’s shoulder.
Frankie reluctantly broke away from Brandi’s embrace and when he saw his wife, his face turned ashen. Brandi just stood next to ‘her man’ with a smirk on her lips.
“Pardon the interruption, but Frankie, are you going to share with me this time? It’s not fair that you keep all the pretty girls to yourself.” Celeste began playing with Brandi’s hair while looking at her with feigned brazen lust.