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Authors: Mia Villano
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around us. Well-oiled muscular men danced on the stripper poles dressed in nothing but thongs. They were attractive men, my age and younger. Handing me a fluorescent pink drink with a penis straw, Thomas pulled me on the dance floor.
I hadn’t been out with Thomas since becoming serious with Alex. It was a well deserved, “girls’ night out” and I intended to have fun. The lights and music were like a dream, along with the constant stream of drinks. Someone handed me one after the other, each one stronger than the next. We danced the night away, and I was drunk by the end of the evening. I had no memory of getting home, or what happened when we walked out the door.
I woke up the next morning to find Veena in my bed. She had a key, and when Alex wasn’t home, she liked to pop over. I had no problem with it, but I was surprised she was there so early. I looked down at my bra and underwear and noticed through my one open eye that my clothes were strewn across the floor. My head pounded, and I didn’t remember how long Thomas had stayed or when we had gotten home. Thank God, Thomas insisted on a limo or we may not have made it home.
“Hey sweet cheeks,” she said as I rolled over, facing her.
“What are you doing here?” I moaned.
“Yes, I took my shoes off and even let Beckett out for you. How wonderful am I?”
“You are a prize. Again, what are you doing here? ” I sat up and she handed me a cup of coffee. My head felt like it was in a vise. My eyes hurt, and my body ached like I had been in a fistfight.
“I made you one of those around the world coffees you like. This is a dark Italian. You look like shit and you may be in for some big trouble. You’re all over YouTube, Instagram and Twitter. Oh wait, and there’s a Vine of you.”
“What’re you talking about? What’s a Vine?”
“Sweetie, someone recorded you dancing with Thomas last night. I hate to break this to you, but it’s all over everything. Here, listen to this, ‘Senator Conrad’s wife drunk at a gay bar.’ ‘Senator Conrad’s young wife, sowing her wild oats.’ Listen to this one, it’s kind of funny, ‘Dear Prudence, boy did you come out to play.’ Ha. Seriously, Prude, it’s everywhere and we’d better do something fast. Alex already knows, because I looked at your cell phone, he’s called fifty times. He had me come over here right away. He said he’s flying home sometime today, and he sounded pissed, Prude. You’d better call him.” What the hell was happening?
“What are you talking about? I remember someone taking my picture and nothing else. How did they take a video of me without me noticing?”
“It’s easy, Prude. Everyone can record a video with their phones and upload it in seconds. You’re hot in it. I love your moves. I didn’t know you danced like a stripper. You must have gotten those moves from your mom.”
Ignoring her comment about my mom, I put my coffee down and reached for my phone. Not knowing what I had done started to hit me hard. Before I called Alex, I wanted to see the video for myself. “Let me have my phone. How do I find this video?” She had to be making too much out of it.
“Google Prudence Conrad and it’s the first item that comes up.”
She had to be kidding, right?
Thumping techno music blared from the phone. A six-second video of me grinding my ass against Thomas as he grabbed my hips glared at me from the screen. A penis straw hung from my lips while liquor sloshed from my cup before I stumbled off-camera. That wasn’t how a senator’s wife should behave, especially not in public. That wasn’t me; I didn’t dress like that, didn’t dance like that. How would I explain this to Alex?
“Holy shit. This will ruin him, Veena. How could I do something like this two days before his speech? I’m so stupid.”
“I highly doubt it will ruin him. I’m sure his crew of men, especially Mark, is working on something. What was Thomas thinking, letting you get that
I hadn’t been out with Thomas since becoming serious with Alex. It was a well deserved, “girls’ night out” and I intended to have fun. The lights and music were like a dream, along with the constant stream of drinks. Someone handed me one after the other, each one stronger than the next. We danced the night away, and I was drunk by the end of the evening. I had no memory of getting home, or what happened when we walked out the door.
I woke up the next morning to find Veena in my bed. She had a key, and when Alex wasn’t home, she liked to pop over. I had no problem with it, but I was surprised she was there so early. I looked down at my bra and underwear and noticed through my one open eye that my clothes were strewn across the floor. My head pounded, and I didn’t remember how long Thomas had stayed or when we had gotten home. Thank God, Thomas insisted on a limo or we may not have made it home.
“Hey sweet cheeks,” she said as I rolled over, facing her.
“What are you doing here?” I moaned.
“Yes, I took my shoes off and even let Beckett out for you. How wonderful am I?”
“You are a prize. Again, what are you doing here? ” I sat up and she handed me a cup of coffee. My head felt like it was in a vise. My eyes hurt, and my body ached like I had been in a fistfight.
“I made you one of those around the world coffees you like. This is a dark Italian. You look like shit and you may be in for some big trouble. You’re all over YouTube, Instagram and Twitter. Oh wait, and there’s a Vine of you.”
“What’re you talking about? What’s a Vine?”
“Sweetie, someone recorded you dancing with Thomas last night. I hate to break this to you, but it’s all over everything. Here, listen to this, ‘Senator Conrad’s wife drunk at a gay bar.’ ‘Senator Conrad’s young wife, sowing her wild oats.’ Listen to this one, it’s kind of funny, ‘Dear Prudence, boy did you come out to play.’ Ha. Seriously, Prude, it’s everywhere and we’d better do something fast. Alex already knows, because I looked at your cell phone, he’s called fifty times. He had me come over here right away. He said he’s flying home sometime today, and he sounded pissed, Prude. You’d better call him.” What the hell was happening?
“What are you talking about? I remember someone taking my picture and nothing else. How did they take a video of me without me noticing?”
“It’s easy, Prude. Everyone can record a video with their phones and upload it in seconds. You’re hot in it. I love your moves. I didn’t know you danced like a stripper. You must have gotten those moves from your mom.”
Ignoring her comment about my mom, I put my coffee down and reached for my phone. Not knowing what I had done started to hit me hard. Before I called Alex, I wanted to see the video for myself. “Let me have my phone. How do I find this video?” She had to be making too much out of it.
“Google Prudence Conrad and it’s the first item that comes up.”
She had to be kidding, right?
Thumping techno music blared from the phone. A six-second video of me grinding my ass against Thomas as he grabbed my hips glared at me from the screen. A penis straw hung from my lips while liquor sloshed from my cup before I stumbled off-camera. That wasn’t how a senator’s wife should behave, especially not in public. That wasn’t me; I didn’t dress like that, didn’t dance like that. How would I explain this to Alex?
“Holy shit. This will ruin him, Veena. How could I do something like this two days before his speech? I’m so stupid.”
“I highly doubt it will ruin him. I’m sure his crew of men, especially Mark, is working on something. What was Thomas thinking, letting you get that
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