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


Damn, I look good. And that’s me being modest.

Okay, okay. I’m just playing. Really, I am. But, I have to admit that Mario would be a fool not to flip when he sees me in this – a cotton candy, semi-sheer pink negligee that I picked up this afternoon from Nordstrom. And to top it off, I have a bottle of his favorite Merlot and I’m working on the fiercest lasagna ever assembled on the West Coast.

I’ve been off my pills now for a little over a month, and I just have that feeling that I’m ovulating. I figure with the wine, the food, and the lingerie, my man will be in the mood to go two, maybe three times. Our record is five, but that was two years ago when we were first engaged and before he started getting all ambitious at work. Now I feel like I’m competing for his time, his attention. Even his affection. It’s like his job zaps everything out of him.

I open the oven door to see if my lasagna is getting bubbly when the phone rings. “Hello?”

“Hey, Cyn. It’s Sandy.”

“Oh. What’s up?”

“Not much. What you got cooking over there tonight?”

I befriended Sandy when she first came on board as Mario’s assistant. I have to admit that my intention initially in asking her out to lunch was to make it clear that her new boss was happily married and was very well taken care of in the kitchen as well as the bedroom (and other parts of the house, actually); and that I wasn’t all that thrilled about my husband hiring a young female assistant. But, we ended up clicking. Before I knew it, she was over at our house almost more than Mario. Lately, though, she’s been just as busy at work, it seems, as he has with requests from Danny and the mayor and others. We still chat by phone at least a few times a week, and we try to make it to happy hour every once in awhile.

“Girl, I am whipping up some bad ass lasagna tonight. I swear, this is one of the best I’ve ever made.”


“Yah. Believe me, if I wasn’t trying to seduce my husband, I’d have you come over.”

She laughs, telling me that she’ll probably be having her same old Thursday night dinner of Top Ramen noodles and turkey bacon. It must suck being single. “Hey, girl. What do you know about the mayor’s get-together at that new restaurant downtown the week after next?” I ask her. “I opened Mario’s invitation.”

“Nothing. Hadn’t heard about it. She probably invited Mario because he’s been working on all those special projects for her.”

“Yah, tell me about it. Thanks to her, I barely see him anymore.” Wait…here I go. Feeling sorry for myself. Let me change the subject quickly before Sandy starts feeling sorry for me, too. “How does Danny feel about all this? I know he and the mayor have their differences.”

“To be honest, I try to stay out of it. And I don’t think Danny knows about all the things Mario’s working on. When he asks where Mario is, I just pretend I don’t know.”

So she lies? She covers up for him? That’s not cool. I mean, I guess she’s supposed to be loyal to him. But if she lies to Danny, could she also be lying to…

Nah. I trust Sandy. She’s the one who told me when that little plastic-boobed receptionist was flirting with Mario. And she told me about his raise three weeks before he ever mentioned it to me. I’m sure if there were an issue with the mayor, even a suspicion, she’d tell me.

Besides, the mayor’s, like, in her forties. “So, what’s up with you? Did you ever call that guy back we met at the bar?”

On the other end, she’s sighing. “No. I don’t know. He was kind of…creepy.”

“Creepy? Girl, that man was fine. What, you too afraid to go out with Latino guy? Shoot, you better recognize.”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t know.”

Three friendly beeps ring out from our security system, meaning one of our doors has opened. “Hey, girl. I’ll call you back. Mario’s home.”

I top off my glass of wine and adjust my silk robe just before Mario makes his way to the kitchen. “Hi, there honey. How was your day?”

He’s floored. He can’t take his eyes off me. He’s literally speechless – exactly the reaction I wanted. Coming towards me, he lets out something akin to a growl, and I start shaking in anticipation of the raucous loving we’re about to make. Taking me around the waist, he picks me up, sets me atop our marble counter, and begins kissing my neck.

Then, “Mmmm, girl. Something smells good.”

Yes, my lasagna, but it ain’t better than me.

He picks me up, sets me back down on the floor, and slaps my rear. “You look amazing, babe.”

Apparently, not all that amazing. Our clothes are still on.

“Hey, I’m about to take a shower. Do me a favor – wrap me up a couple plates of that lasagna. And some bread, too. I have to be downtown by 6:30 to meet with…”

“Let me guess. The mayor.”

“That’s right… what, I told you already?”

He doesn’t wait for my answer. Just squeezes my waist before disappearing down the hall to our bedroom.

Well, it looks like I was completely wrong. My husband is a straight-up, trifling fool.

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