This story starts with an invitation to a 10-year high school class reunion. My invitation came from the same group of bitchy, air-headed cheerleaders that ran the school back in the day, headed by the hottest of the hot prom-queen herself. Never part of the in-crowd back then, I was surprised when I was called upon to help organize, once they found out I managed a local restaurant.
In high school, Ms Hotness had seemed nicer than her more stuck-up friends, but who could tell, being surrounded with such a group of bitches? In Middle School, she was fit, petite, and very cute. In high school, her cuteness became extreme beauty, and she became my biggest teenage fantasy. It was then that I started calling her (to myself) "Ms Hotness".
Being the leader of the clique, Ms Hotness decided she should host the small event, in order to show off her rich husband's huge house and their lavish lifestyle. So, I arranged for the food and drinks, at a small discount, and thought that was it.
I showed up a bit early, to make sure everything was set up properly (my employer's business has a reputation to maintain, after all). Ms Hotness retained her title. She was still the hottest thing I'd ever seen - even better in her nearly 30's, than she'd been in high school (apparently that's possible) - still fit, still petite, still gorgeous! It took all my will, not to stare. I hadn't had that much problem keeping myself from boner-embarrassment since I hit puberty!
Ms Hotness and her husband kept arguing over stupid shit. Actually, HE was berating HER for everything, even stuff I was responsible for, and she was only trying to defend herself. I tried to ignore them, as I finished the set up and checked that everything had arrived that was ordered - refrigerated food int he refrigerator, heated food in covered canned fuel heating trays, and alcohol ready behind the bar. (Yes. They not only had a full-service bar adjacent to their living room, they also had an elevator, intercom system, and wine cellar.)