I Heard It Through Facebook...

I scroll through Social Media every day. I'm an up and coming local influencer. It's kinda what I do. I look through Facebook, TikTok, Snapchat, Instagram and sometimes even Amazon looking for the next big star of whatever's the thing. Personally, I prefer fashion or music. I'm the classy looking brunette beauty sipping on a single malt bourbon neat. I'm not for the faint of heart nor am I the type of woman men approach unless their friends dared them. Generally, I have a phone on me and I'm surveying my scene in something black and simply elegant. Tonight, I'm in a club I can only describe as a meat market for the rich. Women look like high class cuts of Julia Roberts tenderloin aged from a scene in Pretty Woman. Men look straight out of GQ. Thankfully, I don't ascribe myself to anything in particular. Being me has perks like my own brain and way of thinking.

Which leads me to my ensemble. The dress, cut low to my cleavage, covered in a feathery fringe, looked stellar. My strappy Jimmy Choo heels made it come together nicely with the gold snake bracelet I wore.

I dare someone to approach me. I felt no pain tonight.

I haven't felt pain since Ryan left. I gave that man three years. All he gave me was a broken heart and a bad case of regret. I decided, after him, no one and nothing mattered.

I went dyed my hair, bought a stunning wardrobe and decided to embark on a journey. Here I am, one of Google's top ten hottest social media influencers.

The music played Dua Lipa. I took my drink and purse with me, grabbing a man as I walked.

"To truly get over one man," it's been said, "Get under another."

The man I grabbed by his rather impressively sculpted arm smirked at me. His smirk told me something. I had no idea what that something was but I wanted desperately to know.

The music blended together. Camila Cabelo played and the man's hips looked like sin. I needed to feel them. His ash colored hair fell to his shoulders. The fabric of his pants strained against the hem of my dress.

"I can teach you so much, but I need to know your name, Gorgeous."

"Sarah."

His voice husky and his breath warm against my earlobe as he whispered in my ear.

"Well Sarah, my name is Damian. You look like you need some sin. How about I show you some temptation?"

My knees buckled. Here this man was offering me a chance to get over Ryan and do something I'd never, in the 28 years of my life, thought of doing. Having a one night stand with a stranger. While I admit this stranger was the total opposite of Ryan, I wasn't the type.

"Stop thinking, Sweet Sarah. Just feel."

Music continued until last call.

"Last call for alcohol!"

Damian looked at me.

"Do you want one last drink?"

"Crown Royal, neat. Shaken three times with ice."

Damian smirked.

"A woman who knows her drink. I'll be right back, Gorgeous."

Shortly after, he returned.

"As you requested," he said.

I felt Damian sweep me in his arms at the end of the night and take me to his car, a luxurious black Audi A8.

"Nice car," I said.

"Thank you. A gift for graduation to myself from myself."

"What did you graduate?"

"Business school. Acvounting is such a glamorous job."

I laughed.

"I understand. I have a bachelor degree in social studies."

We continued a mild conversation. I'd taken an Uber to the club that night with intent of the same way home. Fate intervened. Damian strapped me into his Audi. The beauty of his car didn't do justice to his glorious features. The ride felt fast but whiskey and the exhilaration of my one night Romeo made for a heady mixture.

We arrived at his door. I could feel his arms snake around me after we exited the car. His lips tasted like licorice. Jagermeister has a distinct flavor. One I could get used to, if I was honest.

The feel of fabric disturbed me. I wanted him to rip off my dress. He looked down at me. That smirk would be my undoing.

" What are you thinking?" He asked.

I said nothing, just kissed him senseless.

After what could only be described as euphoric in the arms of a god sent to earth, I checked my social media.

"INFLUENCER FOUND IN THE ARMS OF MAJOR NFL DRAFT PICK!"

My mouth, among other things, dropped. I read the article. Pictures clearly showing me nuzzled against Damian McBride plastered the front pages of Sports Illustrated, Page Six, the Star, Enquirer and other gossip pages.

Then my phone rang. Every reporter from every page I worked with and for called wanting the scoop. My boss, Cassandra, called me. Her tone less than thrilled asking me what I thought I was doing.

My friends, or so called, wanting details. My sister yelling at me...

"I have to explain to Mom that her otherwise sensible daughter didn't do this. Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

For whatever reason, I wasn't upset. I smiled. Standing in his doorway, Damian looked sexy in his boxer briefs.

My sister still kept yelling. My phone fell to the floor as I felt his stare.

"I guess you saw the online buzz, huh Sweet Sarah?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

" I don't know. I don't know anything. What do you want, Damian?" I asked.

He looked at me with those ice blue eyes.

"I want you. Nothing more, nothing less. Just you, here with me. I have a feeling that if I let you go, I'll regret it."

I laughed, but with tears in my eyes too.

"The rumor mill's gonna start if it hasn't already."

Damian looked at me before kissing my forehead.

"Those assholes have a slow news day coming. I think they're more looking forward to me picking my team. By the way, which sounds better New England or LA?"

I laughed.

"Wherever. I'm with you."

I reached to kiss him again. This time, he carried me back to his room, leaving my phone on the kitchen floor.

"Hello? Sarah? Are you there? Hello!"