Although the king-size poster bed is heavenly, I lie here uncomfortable with concupiscent thoughts while staring up at the ceiling. Would it be weird to pull out my iPad, watch Tumblr porn, and touch myself?

Duh, yeah.

Focus, I tell myself. I’m here to help celebrate Marcel’s 65^th birthday and nothing more. However, this body of mine seems to have a different agenda. All I want to do is jump on Julian and ride him. I’ve always had a horny side, but today … I feel like a fat, hungry cat in heat. Pulling out my phone, I search for a picture of my fiancé. It takes forever to find a recent photo since Andrew is camera shy. Finally, chestnut eyes stare at me. The goofiest, lopsided grin I’ve ever seen greets me. Oh, that dimple, how I miss it. His dark blond hair is surprisingly messy, and he’s wearing his usual brown shirt and brown pants ensemble. He’s holding a vegan mint chocolate chip shake from Café Gratitude.

I sigh, smile, and remember our first date.

A few days after we first met, Andrew picked me up at my grandparents’ home. It was obvious it was his first date as well. Sweat had formed around his hairline. His palms were damp, and even through his glasses, you could see his eyes twitched with nervousness. Nana took me aside. “Is he all right, Lina? Should we take him to the doctor’s office?” She and I had never witnessed anyone like Andrew before. Andrew hadn’t made any plans for our first date; just showing up at my home was enough planning for him. He took me to McDonald’s. Oh, how I miss those times. Unlike the Andrew I know today, the Andrew I went on a first date with enjoyed a Big Mac, large french fries along with a chocolate shake.

I can’t believe he’s the same guy who drank chocolate shakes daily for years. I continue to stare at the photo of Andrew holding a vegan shake. He had just finished telling me one of his corny jokes.

This is the man I love.

Okay, I’ll have a nice dinner with Julian, do some shopping tomorrow, enjoy Marcel’s birthday celebration then return to LA on Sunday. You can do this. But dammit, he has me so freakin’ excited. If I were a dog, I would have been humping his leg a few minutes ago.

I need to do something. Anything.

First, I need to call Andrew. As usual, his cell goes directly to voicemail. Rather than try him at his office, I leave him a message letting him know I’ve made it safely to San Francisco.

Second, a text to Roger:

ME: Hey! I’m in SF.

ROGER: Are you okay?

ME: It was weird at first. Now, it’s as if we’ve never been apart. Remember the guy in the café?

ROGER: Of course! Still thinking of him!

ME: That was or rather that is … Julian.

Roger doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, I almost fall out of my bed with laughter.

ROGER: I’m on the first flight. I’m willing to do a threesome with you two.

ME: Ewww.

ROGER: Were you freaked out?

ME: What do you think?

ROGER: Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Darling Films is on the other line. I want to hear all about him! Let me know if you need anything. Love you.

ME: Love you too!

Freaked out? Surprised? And strangely attracted to a man who I had once considered a brother. This is not right.

I’ll take a nap. That should help.

I’m lying down with my head propped on two pillows when my phone begins to play Jennifer Lopez’s “Ain’t Your Mama.” Oh Patti. Patti Weiss is my best girlfriend. She and I met several years ago when we were both assistants for the same music executive at a small record company. For a year, we endured hell together as our chauvinistic boss belittled, sexually harassed, and then fired us at the same time.

I pick up the phone and before I can utter “Hello,” on the other end of the line is the thickest Long Island accent I love hearing. “Oh, my Gawd, I am getting married.”

Propping myself up on the bed, I shake my head. “What?”

“I’m soooo fucking in love. I’ve been holed up at the Delano with the most amazing man ever!”

“Patti, are you high right now?”

“No, I’m really in love, and I’m fucking engaged!”

“What? How? You don’t even have a boyfriend. Last week, you were telling me how much you love playing the field.” She was literally playing the field, having slept with at least three of the players from her beloved baseball team. Two were during a threesome.

“I know, I know. What can I say? I love them Mets. I’m supposed to eat Kosher but I love pork. Life’s way too fucking short. I want to live my life happily. And now, I’m absolutely ecstatic. I’ve met my match in Louie Goldberg.”

Louie Goldberg?

No, I can’t be hearing right. My best girlfriend is one of the horniest women I have ever met. Standing at least five-foot-ten, her long, curly dark brown hair (that she spends a fortune getting straightened at a Japanese salon), huge brown eyes, double D breasts that she proudly tells everyone are real, and a foul mouth to go with it, Patti is in a league of her own. A bit thick all around, she’d rather eat her steak and mashed potatoes with gravy all day long than to have to go on a diet. Patti is also quite enamored with Jennifer Lopez and somehow has convinced herself that she is a Jewish version of JLo. Suffice it to say, although beautiful, Patti does not look anything like Ms. Lopez.

Even though my best girlfriend has slept with several members of her favorite baseball team, she would not just date anyone, let alone get engaged in a matter of days. She thinks sleeping with the same person for three months is too long of a commitment. I remain quiet as she proceeds. “I met Louie at JFK. We were waiting in line at the security checkpoint, and while my bag was being searched, one of the security guards took JR out.”

“JR?” I ask.

“Where have you been? JR is my handy yet large purple vibrator. It’s just like the one I showed you online but larger. Way larger. Anyway, this tiny little man, with short dark hair began to laugh. And I was like, ‘what the fuck is wrong with you? Never seen a vibrator before?’ I was tired and annoyed. It’s been days since I’ve had sex. Anyway, little man surprised me when he said, ‘You’re too hot to use a vibrator.’ Aww, I had to look down. He’s all of five-foot-four, if that, and as I continued to curse, I walked away from him. Believe it or not, he had a fucking smirk the entire time. So while sipping my free champagne, the man who annoyed me at the security line earlier sits next to me. I almost choke and think to myself, shit, I have to sit next to him for three fucking hours. I pretended not to remember him, and after an hour on the plane, he tapped my leg with his finger and finally said something. Are you prepared for this?”

“Yes! What did he say?”

“That little man had so much chutzpah. He told me, ‘Gorgeous, I really meant it when I said that you’re too hot to need a vibrator.’ As I continued to sip the champagne, I began to feel warm. Actually, hot. You know I’m not into little men. But he was something else. Oh, my Gawd, he’s just too cute. Think a smaller version of Adam Sandler.”

“Okay, Adam Sandler in Billy Madison or Adam Sandler in The Cobbler?” I ask, hoping it’s the cuter Adam Sandler.

“Fucking Billy Madison of course. Now let me get back to my story.”

“Thank God. Adam’s adorable in that film. Okay, I’m sorry, continue.”

“So little man then, I tell you without any qualms, told me that he would love to bury his face in my pussy before we land in Miami. A man after my own heart!”

I laugh so hard that I almost fall off the bed. “No way! Don’t tell me … you didn’t, did you?”

Patti admits, “Fuck, yeah! Come on, how the hell was I going to turn that down? Before I know it, we’re both in the bathroom, and let me just say; he made good on his promise. That Louie was a fucking tiger with a capital T! Well, he totally loved my pussy. He fucked me so good with that tongue of his. He got all up in there.”

Too much info, Patti.

She shrieks with laughter, and I can hear someone in the background.

“Yeah, I finally joined the mile high club. Louie was coming here for a little vacay as well. We had such a great time on the plane that we decided to go to my hotel together. Let me tell you, he may be short but that man is packed. I mean he walks around with a bottle of Evian in his pants all day long. God, he fucked me so good. We haven’t been out of our room in four glorious fuck-filled days! He’s even fucked my−”

I interrupt her immediately. “No! Don’t! Please. Don’t. Go. There. That’s too much, Patti.”

“Oh, my Gawd, you really need a good fuck, Lina.”

“Tell me about it. Well, now I know why you haven’t been answering your phone. I don’t know what to say except you sound really happy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound this good before.”

“I am. I am beyond ecstatic. Sometimes, I wonder if this is all a dream. “

“I hear some guy in the background … uh, is he doing what I think he’s doing?”

Patti doesn’t answer my question; instead, I hear a man moaning in the background.

It takes everything in me not to laugh. “Patti, I can hear him, so he’s not a dream. I’ll let you go.”

“No, no, I’m good. Louie needs to learn to have a little patience,” she discloses as if she’s teaching her fiancé a lesson.

“Uh, okay,” I answer awkwardly. “So how did he propose? I want to know it all. Don’t leave out any details.”

“Oh, my, Gawd! He was so fuckin’ romantic. We were in the shower, and he just popped the question before going down on me. And after I came, he surprised me with a ring.”

Patti’s account of the romantic proposal makes me laugh so hard that I snort. The man sounds like he’s perfect for her.

I’m still laughing when she says, “Since you are my best girlfriend, you must be my maid of honor. No ifs, ands, or buts. Capische? And no way am I going to have your so-called fiancé in my wedding party. Capische?”

Patti and Andrew have never liked each other, so I am not surprised that she doesn’t want him in the wedding party. And although Patti and I are both from New York, we couldn’t be more different. Born and bred in Long Island’s Plainview neighborhood, Patti is from an enormous Jewish family. I am touched that of all the people she could have asked, including one of her five sisters, she has asked me to be her maid of honor. For the past few years, I have really hated going to weddings. It was just another reminder that I wasn’t married although I’ve been engaged longer than the couples getting married. But since this is Patti’s wedding, I am beyond ecstatic.

“Lina, I’m sorry, but Louie just took his pants off, and he’s hard as a fucking rock.” She cracks up. “Oh, Roger texted me earlier and mentioned you’re in Frisco and you’ll be home next week. I’ll be back as well unless one of my clients fuck up. Oh, and don’t tell Roger, okay? I want to be the one to tell him he’s going to be a bridesmaid.”

“Go, go to your fiancé. Oh, my God, that sounded weird. I’d love to be your maid of honor as long as you don’t make me wear an ugly dress.” I chuckle although a part of me is serious. “I love you, Patti.”

“I love you, too, my chiquita bonita.”