She knew she was being ridiculous, of course, but she couldn’t help it. After all, she hadn’t seen Drew in twenty-five years and she was nervous.
Drew had been the bad boy flame her schoolgirl moth was attracted to all those years ago. Sandra blushed as she remembered how passionate their trysts had been, how excited she got feeling his hot breath on her neck. He was ruggedly handsome with a strong jaw, hard biceps, and curly black hair. And no one (not even James Dean) looked as sexy as Drew did with a cigarette dangling from his lips.
She applied her mascara. What would he think of her now?
No amount of exercise or proper diet had stopped the clock. The crow’s feet and laugh lines were deeper than she liked, the circles under her eyes were darker than she liked, and no matter how hard she tried she could not eliminate that annoying muffin top. Why had she skipped her hair appointment last week?
Her stomach knotted as she looked at the time. If she was going to go through with it, she had to leave.
She entered the coffee shop and looked around. No sign of her old flame. She ordered a latte and worried, what would he think of her now?
Then she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Holding her breath, she slowly turned around. A chubby, balding, middle-aged man stood in front of her.
“Sandie! You haven’t changed a bit!”
Her laugh lines deepened and her eyes sparkled as she exhaled. She had forgotten that the clock stops for no one.