Life Pushes You Along: A woman-loving-woman romance novella

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  But she could see that the girl had made up her mind. Her mother’s insistence, in combination with her connecting books with school and her own stubbornness, meant that she wasn’t about to give reading a chance. Zoe could only hope she’d change her mind one day.

  “No,” the girl screamed. She stuck her lower lip out and crossed her arms over her chest. Zoe didn’t have to have kids to know what that meant. No go.

  The mother sighed. “Don’t shout at the nice lady, sweetheart. If you’re rude you don’t get dessert tonight, remember?”

  Darren came out of the breakroom and headed straight for them. Zoe assumed he had heard the girl’s screaming.

  “What is all the noise about?” he barked.

  Zoe closed her eyes. Darren had the tact of a rhino with ski boots on.

  The girl’s mother explained the issue they were having with an apologetic smile.

  Darren crouched down next to the girl. “Too good for books, huh? Why don’t you go buy one of those overpriced videogames to play then and leave us people who actually READ to it?”

  He stood up and looked at the mother, who was watching him with a face set in shocked confusion.

  “Take your noisy brat and go. As you can see, this shop has people who are going to buy a book in it and I pay this doormat of an employee to serve them, not to bow and curtsy to people who probably can’t even bloody read.”

  The mother gasped and took her daughter by the hand. As she hurried to the door she shouted over her shoulder, “don’t expect me to ever set foot in this shop again, and rest assured that I will be telling everybody how I was treated here today.”

  Darren scoffed and headed back to the office. As he turned, Zoe saw an imprint on his cheek and recognised it as the button on his shirt sleeve. He must have been sleeping in there and using his arm as a pillow.

  She knew he had done that before, mainly because she had caught him. Twice. On both occasions, he said that he was just thinking about stocking some new and more unusual genres. Yeah, right. Like he even knew or cared what genres they had.

  She sighed. Darren being asleep and being woken up by the scream explained his foul mood. The worst part was that Zoe wasn’t surprised at the outburst or the complete lack of professionalism. It was all classic Darren.

  He banged the door to the breakroom shut. As Zoe rushed to the till to serve customers, she wondered for the umpteenth time why the hell was she still working for him.

  Chapter 6

  Zoe

  It was a Thursday evening and the shop was ten minutes from closing. Zoe stretched, wishing she had drunk more coffee during the afternoon to keep herself from feeling so sluggish now.

  She blew some dust off the top of the till. She should go get a duster to do it properly, but as she was alone in the shop, she preferred not to wander off and leave the place looking unstaffed. Darren had to go out for a meeting, he had said. Zoe suspected he was off to watch greyhound racing or at home reading his beloved Westerns.

  The bell above the door chimed. Zoe looked up to give the customer her warmest smile, not showing that she was hoping they would be quick as she was about to start closing up. Her heart skipped a beat. The person at the door was Rebecca Clare.

  “Hello there. I know you are about to close, but can I quickly buy a pen?”

  “O-of course,” Zoe replied.

  “Great. My favourite pen betrayed me by leaking just before I left work so I thought I’d indulge in a new one. You sell pens, right?”

  Zoe’s mind was racing. Yes, they had some pens. But so did the stationery shop that Rebecca must have passed to get here. Had she missed that shop? Or was she just that loyal to Darren’s Book Nook?

  Zoe pointed to a stand with pens and notebooks next to the till. “Um, yeah. We have a few. Nothing fancy, though.”

  “That’s all right. I don’t need fancy, I need something new, reliable, and available,” Rebecca replied with what looked like a… smirk?

  Zoe swallowed loudly. She was desperately trying to think of something to say.

  “That’s me. I mean, that’s us. Or, you know, that’s our pens.”

  Rebecca gave her a quick glance and Zoe wondered if she was trying to keep from laughing. True to her word, Rebecca was quick in picking out a pen. She chose one of their priciest ones with black ink and handed it to Zoe.

  Zoe couldn’t help herself. As she reached out to take the pen to run it through the till, she let her fingers brush Rebecca’s. Her fingers were cold as she had just come in from the autumn evening but felt soft. Zoe decided that the precious touch was worth the embarrassment and having to pretend like nothing had happened.

  With her heart beating like a crazed drumbeat, Zoe took the payment and asked if Rebecca wanted a bag.

  “No, that’s fine. I’ll put it in my handbag. I’ll need it at work first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Zoe’s brain quickly switched from thinking about the touch of those fingers to a sudden memory.

  “Oh, um, speaking of early mornings. How was your meeting in Queenswell last week?”

  She was so proud that she had remembered, and that her speech centre had allowed her to actually formulate a question this time.

  “It was… fruitful. It looks like the merger will be going ahead and, considering their company is new but rapidly growing into a booming venture, it will be a bit of a triumph for us. My department head was ecstatic, so it looks good for the Christmas bonus for me and my team.”

  “Oh cool. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. It means I’ll be spending more time in Queenswell, so I suppose I might run into you.”

  Zoe was rarely up the end of town where the library and this other recruitment company, was. She could change that, though. The library was lovely and, if it came with a chance of seeing Rebecca, she’d gladly spend every evening there. She was usually reading or binge-watching TV series on her laptop in the evenings anyway, so why not do that there?

  “Um, yeah, I’m in the library in the evenings sometimes, so if you ever pop in there, I’ll probably be in the reference room with my laptop or a book. Just, you know, don’t scare me to death if I’m wearing headphones.”

  Rebecca laughed. Zoe was stunned that she had just made Rebecca laugh. And it hadn’t even been meant as a joke. What a stroke of luck!

  Rebecca put the pen and receipt in her bag and adjusted her glasses. “I’ll keep that in mind. Right, I better get to the tube before it gets too late.”

  “Good luck. Hopefully most of rush hour will be over on your line.”

  Rebecca sighed. “Hardly. But it’s not going to get any calmer for an hour, so I might as well soldier on. I’ll see you around… sorry, what is your name?”

  “Z-Zoe. It’s Zoe.”

  “Perhaps I will see you in Queenswell then, Zoe. Take care.”

  “Yeah. Will do. Safe travels.”

  Rebecca smiled and gave a brief wave as she walked out the door.

  Zoe took a deep breath. She had just had a reasonable conversation with Rebecca Clare. And now, Rebecca knew her name and where to find her. All Zoe had to figure out now was if Rebecca had been flirting with her or if she had simply been polite, although she was pretty sure it was option number two. Sadly. She wasn’t sure why on earth Rebecca had come all the way over here to get a pen, though. She needed to talk this over. She bit her lip and tried to decide: Helen or Jamie.

  She knocked on the door and her brother opened, hair wet and clothes thrown on haphazardly.

  Zoe frowned. “Oh god, please tell me I didn’t interrupt something.”

  “Would you stop being so paranoid and grossed out about me and Helen? We’re all adults, get over it.”

  He stood aside to let her into the flat before continuing, “And no, I just showered after having lifted some weights. Needed the stress relief after the day I’ve had.”

  Jamie worked for the council and Zoe knew it took a toll on him on bad days. Suddenly, she felt guilty about bringin
g her infatuation-problems to his door.

  “Right, um, do you need some alone time to decompress? I can come back.”

  “Nah, the company will do me good. Bring your bony arse in here.”

  With a grunt at the comment about her behind, she was quite curvy and proud of it actually, she walked past him into the flat. She went right into the small lounge and sat down on the sofa. He sauntered after her, buttoning his shirt properly and buckling his belt.

  “So, what’s up?”

  Zoe steeled herself. “Don’t laugh or think this is ridiculous, but I need to talk about it.”

  “You’re my little sister, everything you say is ridiculous to me.”

  “Shut your face and listen. I talked to Helen about the last time I ran into Rebecca Clare so this time it’s your turn.”

  He sat down and groaned.

  She scowled at him but didn’t dignify his behaviour with a comment. “I’m wondering if Helen might have been right about Rebecca liking me in some way.”

  “Helen’s always right. It’s her special talent,” Jamie said, his voice soft and sappy.

  Zoe grinned. “Yeah, I know. Just wait until you have an argument with her. You won’t be so happy about her always being right, then.”

  Jamie ran a hand over his face. “Zoe, for heaven’s sake, I’ve been with her for two years. I’ve had arguments with her. I know what she’s like.”

  “I still can’t believe it’s been that long. You sure you didn’t get the date wrong?”

  “Yes,” he said though gritted teeth.

  “Fine, fine. Keep your hair on.”

  “Could we get to the point before I throw you out?”

  Zoe fidgeted in her seat. It felt so absurd now. Her brother had real problems, like stress at work and a serious relationship with arguments. What did she have? A possibly semi-flirty conversation with a customer.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t bother you with this,” she said finally.

  “Maybe you should. If there has been any kind of progress on the Rebecca front, I want to know. Lay it on me.”

  She told him about the brief encounter, making sure not to omit the smirk and the laugh. When she had finished, Jamie hummed and looked up at the ceiling.

  “I’m no expert on women. Especially not ones who are into birds.”

  Zoe had always hated the expression “birds”’, it was one step away from the American “chicks” which was even worse in her opinion.

  Oblivious of her thought process, Jamie continued. “But yeah, it sounds like she might have come in to see you again. And that she liked talking to you. That’s a good start. So, now you take the next step.”

  “Me? I took the next step. I told her I’d be at the library in the evenings. Next step has to be her going there to find me,” she said, almost shrilly.

  He looked at her with raised eyebrows and arms crossed over his chest.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re twenty-six and at a crossroads in your life. Do you really think you should go to that badly heated, old library every evening and just sit there in the vague hope she might pop in? You have to do more than that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Do you know where she works?”

  “Yeah, I called her mobile once to let her know her book had arrived and she replied with her name and the name of the company. Acacia Recruitment. It’s in her email address too.”

  “Well, that’s even better. You have her email address and her number. Call her and ask her out.”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “Why not?”

  “Jamie, she was probably just being friendly. And it would be unprofessional if I use the number I was given for work purposes to stalk her.”

  “You aren’t stalking her. You’re asking her out, you numpty.”

  “I can’t do it. Especially not like that.”

  He was quiet for a while, looking at her. When he spoke again, his voice sounded determined.

  “All right. Fine. Just wait until she comes in to the shop or until she finds you in the library then, ‘kay?”

  That pause and the stare from him worried Zoe. She knew her brother well enough to know that he was keeping something from her. She hoped it was just the fact that he thought she was a coward. He stood up.

  “I’m gonna get something to eat. I have some leftover tikka masala in the fridge, want some?”

  In a wistful tone, Zoe said yes and sat back to gaze out the window while her brother went to the kitchen. The streets below were milling with people even though rush hour was long gone. She couldn’t help but wonder if Rebecca had gotten home okay.

  Chapter 7

  Helen

  Helen watched Jamie run his hand over the tightly-cropped curls on his head. She loved watching his hands, they were strong and veined but surprisingly soft. She wished she could smooth the worry lines off his handsome face, though.

  “I just don’t know what we are going to do about her, Hel. Clearly she’s not going to get over this Rebecca person anytime soon.”

  “You know that isn’t the only thing she’s hung up on. Zoe’s stuck in her own life, too scared of reaching her full potential.”

  “Yeah, love, I know that.” He glared at her as if she had just explained that the earth was round. “But we’re unlikely to get her to quit that job or to move to a better flat. Dating seems to be a dead end too. This Rebecca person, though… maybe we can do something about her, and that one change will spark something in Zoe to make her get off her deadbeat arse and sort her life out?”

  Helen chewed her lower lip. “I suppose. Talking to her doesn’t seem to help though. She’s convinced that Rebecca Clare is as straight as an arrow and way out of her league.”

  “I know. But why? Why? Because she’s posh or ’cause she’s old?”

  Helen playfully smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand.

  “Don’t be so rude! But in all honesty, probably a little of both of those things. That and the fact that your little sister has the self-esteem of an earthworm. She thinks everyone is out of her league.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Helen looked into Jamie’s big brown puppy eyes and couldn’t even feign annoyance at the fact that she always had to come up with the plans. He and his sister were worth the effort.

  “Well, we could try setting them up somehow? Making sure they are in the same spot at the same time and hope your sister grows a pair of balls, sorry, ovaries, and talks to the woman?”

  “Nah, too complicated, and Zoe would just chicken out and stay quiet. You know what? If Zoe won’t take steps to figure out if Rebecca might be interested, I guess it’s up to you and me to do it for her.”

  “Jamie. Are you suggesting we march up to a complete stranger and ask if she fancies your sister?”

  Jamie wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was glued to the ceiling.

  “Uh-huh. Something like that. I thought about this yesterday when Zoe came by my flat. She talked about having Rebecca’s email address and I wondered if I should just email her and say that my sister wants to take her out for coffee. But then I thought that was a daft idea. I think we should just go see her and see what she’s about.”

  Helen sighed. “This is just you all over. No plan, no thinking–just acting.”

  “Yeah, well. What’s lacking in my sister’s life is acting, so I’ll give her a push.”

  “Fine. On one condition.”

  He frowned, his dense eyebrows almost meeting. “What?”

  “You don’t let Rebecca know what we’re up to. I won’t have Zoe embarrassed for life here. We need to gage her interest for Zoe, and try to create chances for them to spend more time together, but do it stealthily.”

  “Okay, Nancy Drew. How the hell do we do that?”

  “I think I might just have an idea.”

  They were standing by the reception desk explaining to a woman in grey glasses, which said Calvin Klein on the side, that they wanted t
o see Rebecca Clare.

  “I see. Do you have an appointment?”

  “Uh, no. We know that this is a little unconventional but if you could please tell her that it is about Zoe Achidi, who works in Darren’s Book Nook. She’ll know what that means.”

  The receptionist looked at them as if they were children who had wandered in and asked for a meeting with Santa Claus.

  “I will ring upstairs and relay your message, but I have to warn you that Ms. Clare is very busy.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you,” Helen replied. She had wondered if this was a good idea and now she was sure that they wouldn’t catch even a glimpse of Rebecca.

  Helen hoped she was wrong. If she wasn’t, they would have unnecessarily gone through the palaver of googling Acacia Recruitment, finding its address, and then traipsing all the way into the heart of London to end up here. Not to mention that they had both taken time off work for this. And, of course, that they had dragged Zoe’s name into this, but it had to be done.

  Helen looked around, taking in the slate-grey marble floors and walls. A row of black leather chairs was behind them and a reception desk with two stern women was in front of them. One of those women was the Calvin Klein fan and she was just finishing up her call.

  “Ms. Clare will be with you shortly. Please take a seat and help yourselves to lemon water,” she said with a smile. It didn’t reach her eyes.

  Helen eyed the huge glass container of water and lemon slices that stood at the end of the reception desk. It had a little metal tap at the front and a pile of clear plastic cups next to it. Helen watched the bright-yellow lemon slices slowly swirl through the water. They looked out of place, everything else here seemed to be muted greys and stark blacks.

  The receptionist wasn’t looking at them anymore; she had gone back to her computer screen and was typing rapidly.

  Jamie, looking for all the world like a lost little boy, had slunk back to the chairs and was gingerly sitting down.

  “That chair won’t break, you know,” Helen joked.

  “No. But I feel like it might toss me out of it. Like an ejector seat or something.”