Created by Diane Brown, Buena Beach is an online soap opera, giving up all the juicy details of some of the hottest guys and gals of Buena Beach, a small town in Southern California. Check back everyday for a new episode here on HelloBeautiful.com.
Mario
I can see it all flashing before me at light speed.
My day. 8:15, send e-mail out to Parks & Beaches Commission. 8:28, finish editing 10-year youth sports plan. 8:55, head over to City Hall for meeting with mayor. 8:59, on the way, stop at the BB Café to grab her one of the maple scones she loves so much. 9:20, call Cynthia to check in, tell her that I’ll be home by 6:30. 9:45, call Sandy to have her order Cyn the most expensive arrangement of tulips from the shop around the corner to be delivered at exactly 7:00 tonight with a card apologizing for not making it home by 6:30 for dinner.
All in a day’s work. It’s the structure and scheduling that keeps me focused. The endless list of tasks and objectives gives me something to look forward to. I can’t imagine doing things any other way.
It’s the part about me that Sandy doesn’t get. She prefers the art of spontaneity and disarray, as evidenced by her desk. So whereas most assistants work hard to keep their superiors organized, Sandy does her best to break me. To help me relax. To convince me to use my sick time when I feel perfectly fine or have a beer during my lunch hour.
Unfortunately, she’s in love with me. And I’m not testifying in arrogance – that’s just the reality of it all. There’s a spot in my heart I keep for her too, but I don’t think my feelings are love. Possibly just a little south of love, but not quite there. Cynthia, my wife, on the other hand is pure sugar. Sexy sugar, with whipped cream and a cherry to boot. She’s the one. My one. She does it all for me.
Almost all. Maybe it’s more of what she doesn’t do that screws me up. It’s that challenge, that frenzy, that unpredictability that pulls me to Sandy. The notion that she will substitute Splenda in my coffee for sugar against my wishes or tell me to make my own copies when she’s busy scrolling through her favorite celebrity gossip sites. It ignites me.
“Sandy, I’m on my way to my meeting with the mayor. Do you have a few bucks? I want to pick up a scone but I don’t have time to stop by the ATM, and I don’t want to charge that little amount.”
“What? You – without cash? Ridiculous.”
“Come on. I’m in a hurry, ba-”
Shoot. I’m slipping. Yes, we’re sleeping together, but I never call Sandy ‘babe’. Ever. And to do it at work… I’m really slipping. “Sandy.”
I catch a tiny smirk on her face as she reaches for her purse. Already, she’s reading into it, thinking that little slip means I’m ready to leave my wife and ask her to marry me. She’s never pressured me or expressed expectations about our situation. But, she’s a woman. Of course her ultimate goal is to wrestle me out of my last name and cancel her pill subscription so we can have cute little Cau-xican kids.
Well, I can tell her right this minute – it aint’ happening, even if I did almost offer her a term of endearment.
Once she hands me the two crumpled bills, I split. Recovery from that blunder of mine threw me off schedule by a couple minutes, so I’ll have to speed the mile or so to the café.
“Hey, Mario,” Jennifer says, almost jumping when she notices me as the bell attached to the café’s front door rings. She’s wearing a fuchsia demi-apron and wiping down a table.
“What’s up? What are you doing here – working?”
That smile of hers is nervous. I know that the next thing out of her mouth will be a lie.
“Uh…yah. My teacher let us out early after our exam this morning.”
“Is that right? Must have been a pretty short exam,” I say, examining my watch pointedly. “School starts at 8:15 and already, you’ve aced a test, driven across town to work, and taken care of some customers.”
This is perfect. Jennifer is my boss’s daughter. Chronically up to no good, I’m pretty sure. But all my evidence so far is pure circumstantial. But this…this could be something. “So, if I show up here tomorrow to pick up a cup of coffee, you wouldn’t be here again, would you?”
“Now, Mario, why would you waste your gas or your precious time coming down here for coffee when Chris brings some to the office for you every morning?”
She parts her glossy red lips to answer, but we’re interrupted by someone exiting the bathroom door, who I soon see is my buddy and co-worker, Chris. “What’s up, dude?”
Chris walks towards me, about to give me a high-five, dap, a hug, or something along those lines. “You sure you wash your hands?”
“Aw, come on man. What’re you trying to say?”
“I’m just messin’ with you, man. But, hey…you better take care of yourself before going into the office,” I tell him, pointing to his unzipped pants.
“Oh, geez,” he squeals, trying to zip them back up before Jen sees. Sure, I could have been a little subtler, but it’s fun watching the guy squirm. Poor guy. What I need to do is help him get laid. I don’t think the guy’s been within three inches of a female since I met him. Look at him – bumbling over there with Jennifer, trying to balance a cup of creamer and two boxes of coffee. What a dork.
Well, not everyone is born with my natural charm and good looks. Maybe I oughta give the guy a few pointers. One of these days. Right now, I gotta get back on schedule. “I’ll see you back at the office, Chris. I have an appointment with the mayor. Bye, Jennifer.”
