<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Lauren Embry</strong></span><br/><br/><br/>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/46/Trilby_Paradise_Lauren01.jpg)<br/><br/><br/><br/>Their room at Eden House was a little on the Spartan side, but it was completely comfortable and it was on the second floor; two bedrooms, a tiny kitchenette, and a private deck.  It was too far away from the water to have much of an ocean view, but Lauren was already looking forward to sitting out there in the morning with a cup of hot coffee.  Unpacking was quick and simple, and as she transferred her things from the carryon to the drawers, she dropped a swimsuit, a coverup, and a pair of sandals onto the bed.<br/><br/>“Hey, Monica!  There’s a free happy hour by the pool at four,” she called as she pulled the pink top over her head and peeled down the tight jeans.  Automatically, she turned away from the mirror over the dresser.  Always critical of herself, Lauren had never much cared for the sight of herself naked.  All her swimsuits were modest one-pieces, and she wore something over them whenever she wasn’t in the water.  Inside her large shoulder bag was a smaller beach bag, filled with necessities against the sun: SPF 50 lotions, aloe, sunglasses, and a white terrycloth towel to wipe her hands clean.  Lauren had never been able to tan much; without a hefty sunblock, summers at the pool or on the tennis courts were a never-ending round of burn and peel, burn and peel, burn and peel.  Monica, with her darker good looks, didn’t have to be so careful, and Lauren envied her that.<br/><br/>There was a lot about Monica for Lauren to envy, well beyond her exotic beauty and her many talents.  She was what Lauren considered a free spirit, stopping short of any seriously risky behaviours.  She didn’t do drugs -- not as far as Lauren had ever known -- and she wasn’t reckless behind the wheel.  But of the two of them, it was nearly always Monica who would say out of the blue, “Let’s…” And almost anything could follow that one word, from  “Let’s go out to dinner” to “Let’s go to Key West.”  Lauren knew perfectly well that sooner or later, and probably sooner, that Monica would be saying, “Let’s go sit by those two men at the bar.”  And then, “Let’s meet for breakfast after we’re done with them.”  Or even for lunch.  At home, when Monica said, “Let’s both treat ourselves to some R and R, heavy on the Relaxation,” it had sounded like fun.<br/><br/>But that was when pools and beaches and bars and men were some kind of vague vision that was somewhere in the hazy future.<br/><br/>With her swimsuit snugly in place, Lauren turned back to the mirror and gave her reflection a long, judicious once-over, turning to the left and the right, looking over her shoulder.  It wasn’t, she supposed, that she didn’t look good.  She looked….  Okay.  A little thin, maybe, but she had never been all that curvy.  Her breasts and her ass were still high enough.  Before long, she’d need to have some work done if she wanted to keep them where they were.  And her face could stand a little tightening up already.  But her legs were great.  Thank you, tennis with Monica!<br/><br/>No, overall, she didn’t look bad at all.  But sitting at to the pool, next to a bunch of girls that were Amy’s age….?  Who would have any interest in a clearly forty-something mother, except maybe a fifty-something grandfather?<br/><br/>Lauren looked at her reflection again and rolled her eyes at herself.  Stop worrying.  It’ll give you more wrinkles.  Maybe there would be a couple of silver foxes at the pool.<br/><br/>Unattached silver foxes?  How likely was that?<br/><br/>Oh, get over yourself.  You don’t have to follow through.  Just try and have some fun for a change.<br/><br/>She picked up an oversized beach towel and shrugged into a lacy coverup, and stepped into the hall to meet Monica.<br/><br/>~~**~~**~~**~~<br/><br/>The pool area was beautiful, with plants and palm trees and flowers all over.  The happy hour was “serve-yourself”, and if that required a little extra effort, it also ensured that the drinks would be as strong as you wanted them.  Lauren and Monica were there early enough to take possession of a couple of lounge chairs, and Lauren even stepped up from wine to a large rum and Coke.  It was sweet and icy, and halfway through she was giggling -- not really a good sign, but it felt so different to just be able to laugh at nothing in particular!  There were a couple of silver foxes, all right, but both of them had wives that were practically attached at the hip; Lauren caught a couple of less than friendly looks from the women, directed at both her and at Monica.  It actually made Lauren a little… well… competitive, and she stretched her long legs out and smiled back at the wives sweetly.  Those wives would do better to keep an eye on the college girls in their skimpy bikinis than to worry about a couple of women close to their own age; but everyone was nice enough.  At least on the surface.  And the late-afternoon sun was just glorious!  So much warmer, so much more golden than in Baltimore!<br/><br/>By the second rum and Coke, Lauren’s head was beginning to spin, and something to eat seemed began to feel like a good idea.  One of the wives suggested the Half Shell Raw Bar, just a couple of blocks away and on the water, with happy hour till 6:30.  It felt, to Lauren, like a not very veiled attempt to get rid of them; but it was on the list she had Googled of nearby places, and the snobby people at Tripadvisor mostly had good things to say.  A quick change of clothes and a short walk, and she and Monica found themselves sitting at the edge of the water with an oyster sampler on the table between them.<br/><br/>She was maybe a little overdressed, even though she had on shorts and a white linen blouse.  The Half Shell looked more like t-shirt-over-your-swimsuit kind of place.  It was obviously a popular local dive, and it was already crowded; but a twenty-minute wait -- and a word from Monica in the bartender’s ear, with maybe a twenty passing hands? Lauren had to wonder -- got them a small table overlooking the harbor.  In a little while, they could watch the sun setting over the water, right from where they sat.  Lauren had ramped down to beer, but she was still feeling a little sideways.  And for a change, she actually felt good, instead of just off-balance.<br/><br/>“Imagine what we’d be doing if we were home,” she said with a grin.  “I guess I’d be eating crackers and cheese and looking for something on TV.”  She took a long pull at her beer and glanced around the crowded bar.  Under the roof, it was noisy; but here out over the water, the sound dissipated.  You could actually talk, and hear yourself think.<br/><br/>“Did you see the way those women at the pool were looking at us?  I’m sure it was supposed to make us tremble in fear, but it actually made me feel good.  Didn’t it you?”  It had been a long, long time since anyone had looked at Lauren like she was a potential rival.  The Eden House pool probably wasn’t the best place to practice her rusty flirting skills, anyway.  The bar was a much better prospect!  She turned and glanced around the room, letting her eyes roam idly over the noisy crowd behind them.<br/><br/>Something caught her attention, and she let her gaze swing back across the room to Monica.<br/><br/>“Don’t look just now,” she said with a smile, “but there are three or four guys at the bar looking at us.  One or two look like Possibles.  And you won’t believe this -- there are two boys at the bar scoping us out, and they’re Todd’s age!”  She took another swig of her beer and started to laugh.  “Can you imagine??”<br/><br/>