Let's go.

Part Three: The Tour

After driving Jerry back to the venue for his band meetings. I decide that I will not go to his show. Why prolong this hurt? I begin to cry and feel sorry for myself because I will never have a family with the sexy guitarist.

Once inside my house, I pour a cup of coffee and sit at my breakfast nook looking out over my front lawn. At that moment, I realize that no man has ever mowed my lawn. I mow my lawn. I bought this house. I pay the bills. I don't need a man at this moment to do husbandly things, I need a man who is fun.

The asshole who cheated on me never brought me flowers and he sure as hell never did any manual labor around my house. And guess what? The sex with him was never even close to as passionate as my time with the hot guitarist.

"That's it," I say aloud while lowering my coffee. "I am going to go tonight and fuck it, I am going to get on that bus."

I remember Jerry mentioning that they have back to back shows in my region. I open my day planner and flip through my schedule for the next week and see that my workload is very light for the next two weeks. Surprising for a young attorney but I tell myself this must be fate freeing up my week so I can have killer sex. Fate is definitely a woman.

I call my boss and let her know that I need a week off. She is surprisingly supportive. No doubt thinking some family emergency has come up but she does not press me on the reason for my absence. Next, is the call to my brother. This call is harder. I haven't told him about my time with the sexy guitarist. He thinks I was just at the after party hanging out that night. I take a deep breath and dial his number.

"Hey dude," I reply when he answers.

"Hey sis!" he replies, his tone pleasant.

"So, I am going to take a week off work and head out of town." I say to him quickly. He is silent on the other end of the line. I begin twirling the phone cord around my finger, nervously awaiting his reply.

"Uh, is everything okay? What are you doing?" He asks me.

"Well, you remember the Clash of the Titans show last year? And how I went to the after party?" I blurt out quickly.

"Yeah..." he replies tentatively.

"Well, I kind of met someone and I am going to spend some time with him." I explain.

"Okay, well, you need to tell me who and where, so you don't get murdered." He says protectively into the phone.

I laugh at his protective nature then tell him who and where I think the band is headed. He is silent on the other end of the line. I finally ask, "hey, are you still there?"

"Uh, yeah, I am." he replies slowly. "So you're telling me that I took my sister to a concert to make her forget about a shitty ex and she meets a famous guitarist?"

I defensively explain that he wasn't famous when I met him. My brother laughs, then replies, "be safe, and call me when you make it to each city, then call me when you are headed back home."

Hanging up the phone, I let out a long sigh. I head into my bedroom to pack a backpack. I open my closet and let out a groan realizing that the majority of my wardrobe consists of business suits. I rub the collar of the stiff-white oxford Jerry had rid me of last night. I push all my suits to the side of the closet and peer into the back to see its contents.

In the back recesses of my closet hang the short flowery skirts and dresses I used to wear in high school. I pull them out and rummage through my drawers for that era's Daisy Dukes I used to wear. I grab some cotton panties, some sexier panties, socks and black tights.

Holding up each of the dresses from my youth, I cross my fingers that they will still fit. I wiggle into the first floral dress. It fits a bit too tightly and the length hits just under my ass. I laugh and realize that this dress with some tights and Doc Martens is actually what the kids are wearing these days.