by Haley Cass
Sutton could have managed all of that, maybe. If not for their movie night where Charlotte had been about to kiss her. Even though she was certainly no connoisseur of being with women, she’d known without a doubt that it was going to happen. It had been written into the way in which Charlotte had moved, the way her fingers had slid over Sutton’s thigh, in a slow, smooth, warm, knowing gesture. How those big, brown eyes had glinted before dipping to look at Sutton’s lips . . .
Anyway.
That led her to the second woman in her life that threw her life off balance, albeit in an entirely different way.
When Sutton had returned home from that movie date, she’d laid on the couch next to Regan and lamented about the kiss. Regan had brushed her hand over Sutton’s hair in a comforting gesture, which had made her feel better.
She’d even found herself agreeing when Regan had asserted that it was time to ‘put herself out there’ for women other than Charlotte. That she had to “take control of her feelings” or whatever that meant.
Only, she never should have agreed to anything Regan said, especially when her friend had declared that she found the perfect thing. But how was she to know that Regan would find a lesbian speed dating event for queer women happening at a posh bar over in the East Village.
Apparently Regan signed up for the email subscription on SapphicSpark when she’d created Sutton’s profile.
At the very least, she’d managed to stop her best friend from joining her on this speed dating experience. Apparently, for every SapphicSpark user that attended, they were allowed to bring two guests to boost attendance. Regan had taken the liberty to invite herself and Emma.
She’d never appreciated Emma’s ability to quell Regan’s over-exuberance more than she had earlier when Emma had realized what was happening and put a stop to it.
She bit her lip, hard, as she stared up at the restaurant hosting the event. Was she really going to do this?
It was her phone’s buzzing that drew her out of her thoughts and she was grateful for the distraction. Maybe there was an emergency that would give her an excuse to bow out.
Alex – 6:42PM
hey so my tournament in London is over soon
She rolled her eyes. Her hope was for nothing.
Sutton – 6:44PM
I know. Not only did mom tell me, but did you
forget that you texted the group the video of you
practically killing that boy during your semi-finals?
Alex – 6:47PM
jesus christ the text wasn’t finished. it was
actually supposed to be this:
Alex – 6:48PM
hey so my tournament in London is over soon
AND i’m going to be in NY for some training for
a little bit
Alex – 6:49PM
. . .
Sutton shook her head, huffing out a breath as she quickly replied, remembering the last time her sister had asked to stay with her for the month that her training company was going to be in New York for a tournament.
Sutton – 6:50PM
No.
Sutton – 6:51PM
No, you may NOT stay at my apartment. No, you
may NOT “crash on the couch” and no, you may
certainly not commandeer MY bed to sleep in because
“your back hurts” after training.
Alex – 6:54PM
sutton!! come the fuck on, i’m not THAT bad! i
have nowhere else to go. you’re going to throw
your only sister out on the street just like that?
She hated that a snort of laughter left her at Alex’s words.
Sutton – 6:56PM
On the street? The apartments that your company
buys out for you all are pre-paid for! You used to
love staying in them, what happened to that?
Alex – 6:59PM
uh yah i liked the apartments they had us living
in before the fucking crazy bitch was sharing my
apartment with me! now i have to live with her all of
the time whenever we’re away at competition and she’s
THE WORST.
Alex – 7:00PM
i think she’s gonna murder me in my sleep one day!!
do you want that on your conscience?
Sutton – 7:02PM
And I’m the one who has always been called
dramatic?
With that – because she knew her sister would be indignant at the jab – she put her phone down again and turned to face the entrance. This night might end up being a mess; in fact, she was sure it would, but it was happening.
With a deep breath, she nodded to herself.
Before her phone started ringing and she rolled her eyes at her sister, answering without needing to look.
“Look, you could even stay with Chris if you wanted. You know I’m not going to tell Mom and Dad that you’re staying with your little boyfriend.”
“I don’t believe I would like to take you up on your offer to stay with this man, darling.”
She groaned. “Charlotte! Hi. Um. I thought you were Alex.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint,” she murmured, mirth clear in her tone.
“You’re not,” she was quick to assure, even as she cringed at herself, because – could she ever be any more obvious?
“Well, I was just calling to ask if you were busy tonight? I know you said earlier that you were just going to be grading papers and that everything was okay, but you sounded a little off yesterday.”
Honestly, Sutton couldn’t think of something she’d rather be doing than hanging out with Charlotte tonight. There was no question that she’d certainly rather be there than speed dating. Which was probably why she had to go.
Disappointed with the whole situation, she tugged lightly at the bottom of her jacket as a slight bump of panic set through her. “I thought you were working late tonight?”
It was easier to hedge around answering, because she hadn’t actually told Charlotte what she was doing. Not that she thought Charlotte would really care, because she was the one who didn’t believe in dating. But for her own dignity; Charlotte was the woman who walked into a room and turned every head. If she wanted to date, she would never need to resort to speed dating.
Charlotte sighed, and Sutton felt like she could hear the stress in the simple sound. “Yes, well, I do have work to do, but a lot of it is easily done from home. I’ve already been at the office for a few hours later than any sane person could handle. Besides, I was worried about you, after you seemed skittish yesterday.”
She thought back to their coffee date, where Charlotte had been her regular self – she’d gotten Sutton’s tea before she’d even arrived and then had threaded her arm through Sutton’s. She’d felt warm from both of those things. Which made her start to feel in her head about the crush, then about her speed dating plans, and – it went downhill from there.
“Um, no. I’m not – I’m good.”
“Sutton.” The way Charlotte said her name was demanding and yielding at the same time. Like she only had to say that one thing, and Sutton was compelled to answer her.
It was kind of like a weapon, Sutton decided, and she knew that Charlotte knew exactly what she was doing.
She only hesitated for only a moment before she admitted, “I’m not grading papers tonight. There’s, well, there’s this, um, thing that I’m going to. And I don’t really want to go, and I’m not sure about it, but . . .”
“Okay, then, Ms. Vague. Are you going to tell me more, or am I going to be worrying all night that you’re being held at knifepoint?” She let out a chuckle that only sounded half-kidding.
Sutton rubbed her hand against her stomach as if that would work to calm the tumultuous churning happening in there. And she knew she was just being stupid.
Because honestly, the one person who she could probably even ask for advice about this whole thing was Charlotte. Because ev
en though Sutton liked her, and this just made her feel more pathetic, if any woman knew her enough to know that she would be freaking out about this, it was Charlotte.
Which was what prompted the words to spill out in a rush. “I’m going, like, dating tonight? Speed dating.” She cringed at herself. “Regan found out about it. And I didn’t want to tell you because I–” she snapped her mouth shut, flushing, because she was not about to reveal her crush on this phone call. “Because I’m me, and I’m nervous.”
Then, there was silence.
She waited for a few moments, thinking that maybe Charlotte was amused by it all or didn’t know what to say – even though Charlotte seemed to always have something to say. But when more seconds ticked by, she frowned.
After checking to see if the line had somehow disconnected – and finding that it hadn’t – she cleared her throat. “Um, Charlotte?”
“I’m here, sorry. I’m just surprised. I thought you weren’t interested in meeting women right now?”
Sutton shrugged to herself, wondering how to answer something that wasn’t I’ve already met one – you!
“I am interested. I just don’t . . . I don’t think it’s going to go well. I have no idea what to do or say, and there are going to be so many women there, who are pretty, and probably know a lot more than I do.” She blew out a deep breath and fiddled with her sleeve.
Charlotte hummed under her breath before she spoke in a firm reassuring voice, “Sutton, darling, you are gorgeous and you have a lot to offer. Those women would be fools not to be interested.”
She desperately tried not to take heart at the words. And tried to ignore the way they made her heart flutter in her chest. “Thank you.”
“Now. When is this whole thing starting?” Charlotte asked, and Sutton listened to the sound of her heels pounding on the sidewalk as she walked – probably out of City Hall.
“Um, soon. I’m supposed to be inside, like . . .” She pulled her phone down to glimpse at the clock. “A few minutes ago, actually.”
Charlotte let out a light laugh, that might have been the slightest bit strained. “Perhaps you should go then.” The laughter trailed off. “And be careful tonight. Remember everything I’ve told you about women, okay?”
She blew out a breath. “I’ll try.”
She nervously gave her name to the man at the door, who directed her up a set of stairs. Sutton followed his direction, her hands tugging lightly at the hem of her dress as she tried to hide the fact that she was so nervous, she might throw up.
The music from the restaurant downstairs was playing when she walked in, and dimmed more and more as she made her way up the side stairwell, fading into a quieter, somewhat calming jazz that became clearer as she opened the door into the event room.
And then froze where she stood as she tried to take it all in, eyes wide.
There were women everywhere. Which, she knew would happen, on the fundamental level of the fact that this was an event for queer women. But . . . Sutton had never been to a place that had so many women who were all gathered for the shared purpose of finding another woman.
There were more than Sutton had been expecting. Granted, what exactly she’d been expecting, she didn’t even truly know.
It was exciting, in a way. She wasn’t alone.
“I don’t mean to rush you. But we’re going to begin soon.”
Embarrassed, she turned to see a pretty woman with jet black hair that was pulled back into a braid and dark eyes that matched. The best way she could think to describe them was striking, as they glinted in amusement at her. She had a darker complexion than Sutton did, perfectly smooth olive-toned skin. There was the hint of a smile playing at her mouth as she looked up at Sutton from where she stood, several inches shorter.
Clearing her throat, Sutton forced herself to concentrate on not blushing. “I – sorry. But . . . what do I, um, do?” her voice unintentionally dropped to a whisper as her hand vaguely gestured out to the room.
Christ. She should have just walked out the door then.
The woman’s features shifted into a full smile. “Definitely a first-timer, then. I thought so,” she tilted her head as she ran her eyes down Sutton’s body in a quick yet obvious way, before working back up to her eyes. “Well, for starters, I’m Alia Haddad. My mother created SapphicSpark.”
She gestured over her shoulder to where an older, attractive woman stood, surveying the area and talking to another couple of people dressed in professional attire.
“So, you’re here for work. Not for . . .” she trailed off, eyes darting to where the plethora of women mingled.
Alia’s grin was immediate and devious. “Work now, play later.” She shot her a wink. “Now, tell me, Red, what’s your name?”
“Spencer. Sutton Spencer,” she added on, inwardly rolling her eyes at herself because who did she think she was? An action movie hero? Maybe she should have allowed Regan to come. Regan would have no problem with any of this.
But Alia didn’t seem to mind, and she just reached out to pick up a nametag off of the table to their left that read her name in large letters. “One of our last few to arrive. Are your two guests also coming?”
Shit. She froze, her hand in the air still reaching for her name tag, and suddenly felt guilty. She felt like she’d RSVP’d to an event with a lie even though it wasn’t really her fault. She had to clear her throat again. “Um, no. They were . . . sick.”
“No problem.” Alia waved her excuse off, appearing unconcerned. “Nervous people are no-shows all of the time at these. It’s the brave ones who come out.”
She quickly shook her head. “No, I’m not – I’m just, I mean. I’m not brave, I’m just bisexual.”
Yeah. She should just leave now before she could experience more humiliation.
Alia tossed her head back, though, and laughed. Her hand came out to land softly on Sutton’s forearm. “You kind of make me wish I wasn’t here for work.”
Sutton had no idea why that made her feel a little bit better – still like her stomach had frogs leaping around, but it didn’t seem like that was going to go away – and she straightened her nametag.
“Well, from your mouth to the lesbian’s ears.”
She froze when she realized that she’d actually said the words aloud, even as Alia chuckled again, amusement written all over her face.
Alia’s smile deepened, laughing as she spoke, “All right, so this is what to expect: based on profiles, you’ve all been given a number for predicted compatibility. Either a one or a two. All of the ones will be sitting on the side against the wall, and they’ll stay there –” she gestured at the long row of two-person tables, where one chair, indeed, was against the wall. Many people were already sitting in those seats. Then she pointed at the chairs across from them, “ – And twos will sit across from the ones, and will switch tables.”
She glanced down to a clipboard that was situated on the corner of the table. “You’re a one; you’ll sit there,” she pointed to the table on the end, the closest to the door. “And every five minutes, there’s going to be a bell, which is the signal for the twos to switch to the table to their right. It goes on for an hour – with a five-minute break in the middle. You’ll meet between ten to twelve women, depending on how smoothly it all goes.”
Sutton took it all in, unable to stop fidgeting with her nametag, as she looked around. She felt stupid but had to ask, “What then?”
She got a small, amused smile in response, as Alia handed her a small, blank white card and a pen. “Then, you write the names of all of the women who you’d like to talk to a bit more, and at the end you’ll give us the cards, and we’ll contact you with the names and numbers of the women who you’ve matched with. Or,” her grin turned mischievous, “You can go to the club down the street after and get to know anyone who strikes your fancy.”
“Um, probably not.”
“Your prerogative.” Alia’s expression turned more professionally reserved, as
she gestured over to the table she’d pointed to a few moments before. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind taking your seat, we’ll get started.”
Sutton took a deep breath, pressing her hand to her stomach to calm herself, before she felt a soft touch of fingertips against her arm. It was gone within a moment, though, and she turned in confusion just as Alia leaned in to whisper, “Don’t worry. It’ll go better than you’re imagining.”
She didn’t believe it for a second, but she appreciated her effort.
As she walked to her seat, she slid her jacket off of her shoulders, letting it fall down over her arms before folding it over the back of her chair. The woman who was already seated at the table next to her was giving her an appraising look, and she was already giving her a small smile in response before she even realized with a jolt that she was checking her out.
She barely had any time to really process it before it was announced that they would begin. Ready or not, it didn’t matter. Within the first few moments, with her stomach tied up into tight knots, a woman slid into the chair across from her.
The woman seemed a little older, maybe early thirties. Blonde hair chicly bobbed, she was already wearing a sly grin as she placed the glass she’d clearly gotten from the bar at the far end of the room on the table.
“Well, hello.” She gave Sutton a quick-and-obvious roaming of the eyes that didn’t feel particularly flattering, but she felt her hands start to shake nonetheless.
“Um. Hi,” Sutton eloquently offered her mind suddenly blank at what exactly she was supposed to say next.
Thankfully, the woman offered her hand. “Meredith.” Spoken in a practiced low tone, and Sutton couldn’t help but feel like it was like a B-list version of Charlotte’s flawlessly effortless murmur –
Stop.
“Sutton,” she supplied, and reached over to shake her hand.
Just as she made contact, Meredith shifted so that her foot stroked along her calf. Shocked, Sutton jerked her hand back, her wrist bumping into the half full martini glass. Which fell easily, but she watched with dread, almost seeming like it was in slow motion as the contents spilled into Meredith’s lap.