Flirt

Manuela Cameron nee Santos was always going to be a flirt. It was evident by her lower than low cut shirts showing the perky tops of her breasts, her skirts that if she bent down, she could be arrested for indecent exposure and the pounds of makeup she would decorate her twenty five year old skin with. But there wasn't just physical proof of her being a tease. Her personality was the most attracting to men.

The way she batted her thick eyelashes while complimenting complete slobs like Spinner Mason in that breathy voice that drove men crazy, the way she swayed her hips with utter confidence wherever she went that ended up transfixing Craig Manning, even the grocery store, the way that she was like a light and the men were moths is why Manny had a gift. She could have any man she wanted, whenever she wanted him.

But when did it become a curse? Manny knew she was approaching her thirtieth birthday and then soon after that, she would be forty. She could feel herself getting older and age meant losing her beauty. What would become of her without her looks? She shuddered thinking of it.

Manny woke up at one p.m., her typical wakeup time. She arose from her Egyptian cotton sheets and picked up her silk robe and walked over to her mirror and began brushing her thick black hip length hair. She then decided to take a nice long shower before she got dressed. Manny had discovered when she was fourteen that one of the few things that comforted her was a nice scalding hot shower. She could think and attempt to solve her problems and wash away her impurities and sins at the same time.

She dried off and put her silk robe back on before going over to the French door windows and opening all of them. She was pleased to see that the sun was out and she felt no breeze so she decided to tan; her favorite thing to do that didn't involve money. She put on a white bikini and white strappy heels and placed her favorite Chanel sunglasses on top of her head. She was heading down the stairs to the spacious backyard when she noticed a blinking red light on the answering machine located on the coffee table by the bottom of the stairs.

She rolled her eyes and tapped her French tip acrylic nails on the banister as she decided whether or not to listen to the messages. She sighed and jabbed her finger on the play button and braced herself for the stupidity.

"Hey baby, it's me. I tried waking you up this morning but you looked so peaceful I decided not to bother you. Its twelve o clock now and I'll be at the house by two thirty for the barbecue today. Okay? I love you baby."

She suppressed her gag reflex due to her disgust at hearing her husband's voice. A barbecue? Jesus Christ, what the fuck did she look like? Did he mistake her for perfect little Emma Hogart with her three little brats running around and her social luncheons and barbecues? There was a reason why her and Sean didn't have kids. Manny refused to be controlled by children and quite frankly, with their dirty sticky hands and the amount of attention they required, she was sickened by the notion of reproducing.

Try telling that to Sean Cameron, she thought bitterly. Sean refused to grasp the fact she wasn't about to ever bear his child, now or ever. It was always him getting on her ass about children. "When are we gonna have that football player?" he'd beg her. And she would smile coyly and say "Soon baby." Motherhood was not a role she was ready for or ever be ready for.

She pulled her hair out of her bun and shook it loose on her shoulders. She trudged up the stairs in her heels, hoping to ruin the wood varnish that Sean tried so fiercely to protect. She put on more makeup, threw a white lacy dress over her white bikini, slathered lotion onto her bronze skin, and by the time, she finished putting the final touches onto her appearance; she heard the front door slam and Sean rush up the stairs.

She looked into her mirror and pouted. Sean was the last person she wanted to see. All she wanted to do today was to lay out, tan and sleep. But instead, she was roped into going becoming little Miss June Cleaver housewife and going to go put on a show for the neighbors. Oh yes, everything with her and Sean are great! Babies? Oh yes, very very soon!

Her stomach dropped, just thinking about doing that. She wanted adventure, scandal, sex, sin and this whole suburbia gig Sean seemed to be so obsessed with wasn't cutting it.

"Manny!"

She turned around, wincing as she saw her husband boyishly grinning in the doorway with his longish curly blond hair in his eyes.

"Come on baby, the barbecue is in a half hour and we have still have to pick up something from the bakery!" Sean gestured for her to hurry.

Manny put on a fresh coat of lip-gloss, grabbed her white sunglasses and resigned herself to the bullshit she would soon have to spew. As she buckled herself in their Mercury Mariner and Sean started not only the car, but babbling on and on about how great is that Jay and Emma decided to throw this barbecue and how good their children are doing. Manny laughed. Like she gave a fuck.