This week, a woman meets someone through work, and things quickly get heated: 30, single, Brooklyn.
8:34 a.m. It takes a second, when I wake up, to process that what happened last night was actually real.
9 a.m. I prepare a French press coffee in silence. I mean, I live alone, so of course it’s silent. But this morning feels extra silent. As if it’s just me and karma and we’re both a bit speechless.
10 a.m. Turn on Zoom for my first meeting of the day (I work at a design firm) and somehow look fresh-faced enough and not the least bit hung-over, even though I am. I had 300 drinks last night and snorted some coke off a bathroom counter. I was just in there to pee, but I saw the line of coke left over from someone else, or perhaps left intentionally as a gift for a stranger, and I took it. In retrospect, not the best idea.
So last night I had “work drinks” with one of my clients. This client happens to be an actor who has a liquor company. Not a huge actor — just a well-liked working actor in New York. We met to sample his product and for me to “familiarize myself with the brand’s ethos.” He’s not a dreamboat — more like talented, commanding, and interesting. But we were drinking and drinking and drinking, and then I had that mystery coke. We started making out and then fucking in that same bathroom that I did the drugs in. Fucking like it was the end of the world. It was so good. I’ve had sex with about ten guys in my life and this was the best sex of all. Not even a question.
5 p.m. I have a final Zoom, and it’s about this client and his brand. I’m shitting myself because I don’t know if he’s going to be on it. The Zoom gets postponed until tomorrow and part of me feels extremely paranoid that it has something to do with last night.
7 p.m. I take a nice, long shower and get into bed. I’m exhausted and today was just weird. I read a few pages of a book and fall asleep before the sun goes down.
6:30 a.m. Wake up feeling good. I go for a run while listening to a podcast. It’s kind of a boring one, but I manage to run for 30 minutes.
8 a.m. Shower, coffee, ready for the day. The actor emailed the team saying he’ll be on the Zoom later.
It’s weird. I kind of liked him. I’m 30 — I don’t really think of him as my type. He’s probably 15 years older than me, and his life is more grounded, more quiet. But I enjoyed meeting him, and the sex … damn.
It was up against the wall. First face-to-face, then he flipped me around. It was fast, but we both came hard. I remember laughing when it was over. He looked a bit freaked but also had a tender smile on his face. We never said anything about hanging out again, but we left on good terms from what I can remember. We both seemed to feel devilish and alive from the situation. Maybe that’s all either of us wanted or needed. But I wouldn’t mind hanging out with him again.
3 p.m. On the Zoom. He’s there. He looks good. Did he grow a ton of facial hair in the last 24 hours? He looks scruffy, and hotter than usual. Maybe it’s because I know he’s got a great dick and knows how to use it.
The call is fine. I don’t say anything embarrassing. Everyone seems to think my aesthetic and his brand are a sweet mix. The team is “pumped.”
6 p.m. I have dinner with a few friends. Mexican, margaritas, that kind of thing. I’m usually an open book, but I don’t say anything about the actor. I wouldn’t want to risk anything work-wise here. They all think I’m mostly into women anyway. We spend most of the night helping one friend who is going through a really hard breakup.
I’ve been there. My last few relationships ended in dramatic ways — cheating (not me), addiction, etc. — tough stuff. Right now I’m technically not looking for a relationship. I haven’t been single for more than a few months since I was a teenager, so I’d like to stay out of anything serious until it feels very right.
10 p.m. Do I Google-stalk the actor until my eyes are falling out of my skull? Yes, yes, I do. It says somewhere that he had a girlfriend but I can’t find concrete info on her. Hmmm …
10 a.m. Feeling a bit overloaded at work. They’re giving me two more clients to manage. Have a pit in my stomach that I’m not paid enough to do all this work and make all the bosses look good.
12:30 p.m. I close up shop to go get a haircut. I want something really different, so I get bangs and highlights.
3 p.m. I’m still at the hair place. I forgot how long this shit takes! Starting to feel anxious about not being at my computer.
4 p.m. Back online. We have a Zoom and everyone notices my new hair. I forgot that I could get busted. No one cares in the end, though I wonder if someone will use that against me in the future!
6 p.m. The actor mentioned a restaurant he likes to go to. I want to send him an email and tell him I’m going to try it tonight. I’m not sure if I should. It’s weird because I have a hunch he wants to reach out to me too, but he’s as confused about next steps as I am.
7 p.m. I’m at this little restaurant by myself that he told me about. I send him a quick email that I’m there. I don’t expect him to meet me or anything, but I guess I just wanted to connect outside of the Zooms.
9 p.m. He still hasn’t responded.
11 p.m. He writes back! He was at a show with a friend and asks if I liked it or not; he wants a full review. Interesting! He’s engaging! I wait until tomorrow to respond.
11:30 p.m. Take out my vibrator and go crazy on myself.
8 a.m. Before the workday starts, I craft an email to the actor about the meal from last night. The last line takes me a minute to get right because I want to convey that I’m available should he want to hang again, or even just fuck again. It’s tricky because I truly don’t care that he’s famous. I just want his cock inside me again. I suppose that’s a bit too straightforward, so instead I say something like, “Lots of beautiful bathrooms in this city I’d love to check out … you?”
10 a.m. Spend all morning wondering why I thought talking about bathroom stalls in New York City would come off as the least bit sexy.
11 a.m. He writes back! A long one! All about food and food recs. It’s cute, but whatever, we’re all foodies these days. He doesn’t give me much to work with, and ends the email with something like, “Bathrooms? Hmmmm. Lol.” Um, okay?
4 p.m. Post some cute selfies of my new hair on my Insta just in case the actor is stalking me in any way. It’s possible?! He says he has a fake Insta account so he can lurk without people knowing it’s him.
9 p.m. Buckled down at my computer and worked late. Now I’m tired. I haven’t responded to the actor yet … working on his design instead. Kind of strange!
8 a.m. Wake up to write one hell of an email. I’m just going to go for it. I ask if he wants to meet up again. Half an hour later, he writes back with one simple word: “Where?”
9 a.m. I feel a bit anxious! This could happen. It could happen tonight. I’m getting my period tomorrow, so I need it to happen tonight! I suggest a bar with good food that I really like. It’s also located inside a hotel, which gets me thinking about fucking him all over a hotel room.
11:30 a.m. We’re confirmed for tonight. I try to stay calm and work for a few hours.
3 p.m. Actually, I need to buy something to wear. I head out shopping in my neighborhood.
7 p.m. I eat something light. A bowl of brown rice with hot sauce.
8 p.m. We’re at the bar!! He’s dressed a bit undercover. Baseball hat, low-key outfit, head down. I sit next to him. We can’t start drinking fast enough. I get a margarita. He gets a beer. It’s pretty cute, actually, how nervous we both are.
I ask if he has a girlfriend, just to be sure. I’m really not into cheating, or even the ethical-nonmonogamy scene. He says he’s very much single. We keep drinking.
10 p.m. We’re kissing, now at a table, and it all feels great. I’m profoundly turned on. I suggest getting a hotel room. He is careful to make sure there’s an abundance of consent. I text him, “I’d love if you’d take me upstairs to a hotel room to fuck my brains out” so that he has it in writing.
11 p.m. The sex is hot. Not quite as powerful as the first time, but we’re also less drunk and maybe there are now feelings involved. We have sex once, and I attempt for a second round, but he’s clearly tired. Not sure what to do next, I tell him I’m going to Uber home. He lets me. He’s sleeping at the hotel for the night, and even though I would have said, “No,” I sort of wished he asked me to stay. Well, he didn’t.
12 a.m. Fall asleep at home, happy about everything.
9 a.m. It’s the weekend. I wake up thinking maybe I got what I needed from the actor. A little fling. I’m tempted to close the chapter at this point. Let’s see if I hear from him.
3 p.m. I go back to the hair place because I like my highlights so much, I want to go even lighter. I know I’ll be here for a few hours, so I bring my book.
6 p.m. The actor texts — he has my number now, after the dirty text from last night. He wants to see how I’m feeling today. A part of me doesn’t care about dating him or fucking him again, so it makes it easy to write right back. We end up texting throughout the night.
9 p.m. We’re talking about books, movies, our exes, our parents … it’s nice! I order some pho and just enjoy the conversation.
11 p.m. By this time, I’m just ready to go to sleep.
10 a.m. Trying to get stuff done today. Laundry, cleaning, need to buy products for my new ultra-blonde hair. I owe my parents and sisters a call. Life stuff.
12 p.m. The actor asks if I want to meet for lunch. I do … but I don’t. I really need a “me day.” I tell him that. Again, it’s so great when you don’t care!
3 p.m. Stop by a sex shop in my neighborhood. I feel entitled to a few new things after having elevated sex this week. I text a pic to the actor to show him where I am. He says he wants to see my purchases later tonight.
4 p.m. I write back, “Not tonight. Maybe soon.”
6 p.m. Play with my new toys back at home. There’s some good TV waiting for me to watch. I’m content with that.