Through The Window

by Wendy Campbell

  Mel glanced at the man on his right—she couldn’t even remember his name—and Ron Houser on his left. Their gazes were glued to Julia. “What did you want to know, Miles? How to get a hot woman?” Mel and Julia burst into laughter, turned their backs, and walked away.

  “Do you think he even remembered what he was going to say?” Julia asked.

  “I don’t care. I’ve wanted to put him in his place for years.”

  For the next half hour, they walked and talked and pretended to be in love. When Mel’s questionable history came up, she handled each comment with disdain and humor. She was actually enjoying herself. Who would have known that something as simple as a different perspective could ease ten years of suspicion in less than an hour?

  Most people seemed more interested with her present lesbian status than her history. Julia must have licked her lips a hundred times. She thought Julia gave a particularly stubborn man a glimpse down her dress, but she couldn’t be sure. Their comments became more outrageous, and Mel was even starting to pick up some of Julia’s little tricks that left the men dazed and tongue-tied.

  As her buzz faded, Mel started watching for Jen Marsh. They’d made it through the entire room when Julia wrapped an arm around her waist and pretended to nibble her ear. “Is that her?”

  Mel’s alcohol induced bubble popped. Sure enough, Jen was making a grand entrance, arm in arm with a distinguished man in a Gucci suit. Jen made her entrance a stage production, taking time to grant her throng of admirers hugs and little air kisses like she’d just won an Emmy. Meanwhile, her husband dazzled the women. Mel couldn’t hear what he said, but just kissing hands wouldn’t make so many of them press a hand to their heart.

  Usually a suit hid a man’s body. Not this one. How could a lesbian lover compete against a cross between a Chippendale dancer and a mob leader? They should make a run for it. She could leave Schuster, kiss her career goodbye, and move out of the country. But running away would be worse than losing with a lesbian lover, especially after the progress she was making on turning her reputation around. She glanced at Julia. Rather than the worry she’d expected, her date wore a devious smile.

  Yes. Julia had a plan. Grasping at that faint glimmer of hope, Mel steeled herself and looked toward the entrance. All she could see was Jordan Stone, standing right in front of her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  What was Jordan doing here?

  Although Mel never admitted it, she hoped he wouldn’t hear about the lesbian act. Now he’d get to witness it firsthand. Shit. If there had ever been any hope of getting together, even for a hot one-nighter, it’d be gone, unless he insisted on a threesome, and that wasn’t part of her ongoing Jordan fantasies.

  She wanted to tell him she and Julia were acting, but she couldn’t. Not unless she lost the bet, then it wouldn’t matter. When he heard her sing, he’d double over with laughter. Sex would be the last thing on his mind. Her heart pounded, and she could barely breathe. The bet. She needed to focus on the bet, not Jordan. Maybe if she didn’t talk to him, he’d go away.

  “Melanie.”

  Did he have to use that slow, sexy, turn-her-knees-to-jelly voice? Her heart pounded as she took in his concession to formality. A white button-up shirt that contrasted with his tanned skin and the sprinkling of chest hairs visible in the V of his shirt, was tucked into extremely well-fitting Levis. Seeing him framed by the blue and silver room decorations made her think of his middle school jersey. It took extreme effort, but she pulled herself back to reality.

  What would a normal person do in this situation? Keep the facade and introduce the lesbian lover. “This is my lesbian lover.” She tried not to wince. “Julia Taylor.”

  Jordan’s eyebrows went into a slight V, and his eyes glittered as he held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Thank you,” Julia purred, taking his hand in both of hers. “It’s always nice to meet such a handsome man.” Her gaze traveled from the top of his head, down to his toes and up again. Slowly. “Mel, honey,” she whispered just loud enough for Jordan to hear, “do you think he’s man enough to handle both of us?”

  Jordan’s eyes widened, but Mel couldn’t tell if it was shock or anticipation, or both.

  “So,” Julia said, “what do you do, besides look gorgeous?”

  Now his lips twitched. “I’m a firefighter.”

  “You must be on that calendar—”

  “This is Jordan Stone,” Mel said with resignation. She shouldn’t be surprised he was interested in Julia, lesbian or not. But just once, she wanted a man—this man—to look at her the way all men looked at Julia, like they’d conquer the world just to impress her. And not, definitely not, as Julia’s side-kick.

  Julia’s eyes were speculative as she withdrew her hands and studied him. “Nice to meet you, Jordan Stone. I’ll let the two of you catch up while I get another drink.”

  “We did all the catching up we needed to.” Mel grabbed Julia’s wrist. As they walked away, Mel couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder. Jordan wasn’t watching Julia. Nope, he stared right at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes. He probably saw his chance at a three-some walking away.

  ****

  Talk about a brush-off, Jordan thought. And what was with the lesbian bit? He headed for the bar. Melanie and her date were on the other side of the room, so he ordered a scotch and watched them. They didn’t hesitate to touch each other’s hand or arm, and the gestures looked comfortable. They definitely weren’t strangers.

  An uneasy feeling made his hands clench around his glass. Each time he’d touched Mel, she’d jumped away like she’d been zapped. Even when Sara asked him to check Mel’s burn at the store, Mel just stared at him like he was ghost, until Sara prodded her forward. Maybe Mel was a lesbian, maybe that’s why she didn’t respond to him. But hadn’t he seen attraction in her eyes, in her stance? Or had that been mockery? He shook his head, hoping to clear it. Why did women have to be so damn complicated?

  When Melanie laughed, the knock-out redhead put an arm around her waist without hesitation, but there was nothing more. No rubbing of the small of Mel’s back, like he would have done. No whispers in the ear, no sneaking a taste of silky skin. The spark, any spark, was missing. Their ease with each other made him think of how his mother and aunts treated him and Roger.

  Melanie had nerve, wearing a body-molding scarlet dress that screamed S-E-X, and those little heels that made her body sway when she walked. She couldn’t be a lesbian. It didn’t fit.

  Or was he so blinded with lust he couldn’t see straight? He hadn’t felt this unsure of a female since adolescence. Disgusted with his own hesitation, he headed to the outskirts of the room to find someone to talk to. He slowed at a table where three of his old buddies were sitting. When he heard Melanie’s name, he kept right on walking. Eventually he found a satisfying argument about the Seahawks’ chances to win the Super Bowl and joined in.

  ****

  When the dancing started, Melanie pretended Jordan wasn’t in the room and downed another shot, but Julia stopped her before she picked up a second. If Mel ignored the fact she was posing as a lesbian—and pretended the ballroom was the basement at Anna’s parents house—she could talk and laugh with Julia like always. Only this time, they had their arms around each other, but it felt only like a hug from a good friend.

  “Do you think he’s one of the judges?” Julia asked, nodding toward a distinguished brown haired man in a suit.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll bet he’s rich.”

  Mel laughed. “Please wait until this is over to find out.”

  “Show time.”

  Jen hovered at the edge of the stage with the prom crown perched on her head. How pretentious could she get? When the song ended, she took the microphone. “Hello, everyone.” Even with her fake, cheerleader-like peppy voice, Jen looked comfortable behind the microphone. “It’s wonderful to see so many of our old school mates. As the chairwoman for the reunion committee, I wa
nt to thank you all for coming.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Julia mumbled as Jen kept talking. Mel’s body was tight with nerves and she could barely catch her breath. Julia wrapped her arm around her waist.

  “Now, for the extra entertainment.” Jen giggled. “A few weeks ago, I ran into one of our classmates who’d been conspicuously absent from the Valley these last ten years. In our joy at seeing each other again—”

  “Bullshit,” Mel muttered.

  “We made a good-natured bet on the outcome of tonight’s festivities.” Jen waved a hand, and the hotel clerk brought her an envelope. Jen took it and handed it to the singer, then raised a hand and pointed at Mel. “Melanie Quinn, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Mel smiled and planted her feet. She wasn’t about to go on stage. With Jordan here, she’d probably trip on her high heels and break her leg. On second thought, that wouldn’t be so bad. She couldn’t sing if she was in an ambulance.

  “It would be crass of me to provide the details of our little bet,” Jen paused. “But I can’t help it. When I ran into Melanie, our conversation naturally led to the men—excuse me, mates—in our lives. After sharing the attributes of my wonderful husband, she felt inclined to rave about her…friend. I’m not sure how a simple conversation escalated into a bet, but I can’t say I’m sorry. Ladies and gentlemen, we asked you to decide who made the best choice in men.” She drew out the last word and smiled.

  “When you arrived,” Jen continued, “nineteen of you found a ballot attached to your nametags, which were chosen at random. We requested your opinion on which of us made the best choice. Since I’m directly involved in the bet, I withdrew from the process. The hotel clerk tallied the votes, and I’ve asked an unbiased party to read the results.” Jen nodded at the singer.

  With a crescendo that would have given the Oscars a run for their money, she announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, let the envelope be opened.” She handed the singer the microphone and stepped back with a victorious smile.

  The singer took a folded paper from the envelope, and Mel wished she could melt through the floor. Standing in front of her gawking graduating class was worse than her nightmares.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears seventeen of the votes were returned. The winner, with thirteen of those votes is—” He motioned to the band, who complied with a dramatic drum roll. “Melanie Quinn,” he announced in a voice that vibrated the walls. The room erupted in applause, but Mel didn’t move. She’d won?

  Jen swooped down on the singer and grabbed the paper. After a quick glance, she crumpled it, threw it on the ground and stomped off the stage, demanding to see every ballot. Her hand shot out, grabbed her husband’s arm, and she dragged him with her. As if it were an afterthought, a gold crown bounced back through the door and rolled off the edge of the stage.

  Demands of “speech, speech,” brought Mel back to reality. Picking up the microphone, the singer motioned for quiet. “Miss Quinn, please come on stage with your partner. Everyone deserves a good look at the winner.” Applause erupted, along with a few hoots and hollers.

  Mel would have bolted, but Julia’s arm clamped around her waist like a steel band. With surprising strength, Julia pulled her to the stage.

  “What are you doing?” Mel tried not to move her lips.

  “Trust me,” Julia whispered. “Just say ‘thank you’ and give me the mike.”

  When the singer handed Mel the microphone, she could only stare at the crowd. At Julia’s not-so-gentle nudge, she managed a soft, “Thank you,” and handed over the microphone.

  Julia’s iron arm clamped around her, stopping her retreat.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you all,” Julia said, her smooth, silky voice spreading through the room like a refreshing breeze. “When Melanie, the love of my life, told me about the bet tonight, I was shocked. I didn’t understand until she told me some of the intriguing details from high school. If my understanding is correct, the terms required Jen to make a public apology and return the crown from the senior prom to its rightful owner.”

  Mel listened, spellbound, as Julia’s voice wove around the audience like a magic spell. She’d known Julia could charm anyone and wrap a man around her finger with a glance, but this was amazing.

  “Jen Marsh, would you please come on stage to satisfy the terms of the bet?” The room went silent. Julia made a show of searching and lifted the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, do any of you see Jen, the loser of tonight’s bet?”

  The audience looked around. Some shook their heads.

  “It looks like she left.” Julia’s smile was radiant. “We’ll let that action speak for itself. As for the terms of the bet, I can’t give you the full details, but suffice it to say justice would have been done. Thank you.”

  “Why didn’t you give them the details?” Mel asked as the crowd gave another round of applause and they left the stage.

  “What do you think will happen the next time one of these people see our friend Jen Marsh? They’re going to ask her about it. Her friends will call looking for details. They’ll pester her for months.”

  “Wow. That’s much better than a single, demeaning night. You’re amazing.”

  “Thank you.” Julia kissed her cheek.

  Over the crowd, Mel met Jordan’s gaze. He smiled, but not in a friendly way. No, it matched the challenging gleam in his eye.

  ****

  As the festivities wound down, Julia left with a wink, a wave, and the attractive man from the dance floor. Melanie wasn’t surprised, although she didn’t like the idea of playing lesbian solo, even if they’d already won.

  She’d get a ride home from Anna if she could find her. But to do that, she needed to get rid of Marvin Wenzel. He’d attached himself to her with the voracity of a leech the instant Julia left. He was still a geek and, Mel suspected, still afraid of girls. Apparently, he didn’t classify lesbians as girls because he’d been acting like she was his new best friend. He almost punched her on the shoulder once, but her tight-lipped glare stopped him just in time. She ignored him and scanned the room, hoping to see Anna.

  “Tell me,” he said in nasal undertone, “how do two girls do it?”

  “Do what?” she asked, not really paying attention. Was that Anna? The head turned and Tina Nearhart looked her way.

  “You know. It. It!”

  “What?” Exasperated, she turned back to Marvin, intending to tell him to take a hike.

  “Reach orgasm.” His cheeks were cherry red. “How do two girls do it?”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Men have…um…different equipment,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes. “We put our…um…I mean, there’s a…sort of…I mean…but how—” He went on, stuttering and stammering and getting more graphic and idiotic by the second and she couldn’t stop him. Why was he even asking her this?

  “How do you know?” he asked. He must have mistaken her horrified silence as a plea for more information, because he rushed on. “How can you tell if a woman has an orgasm? For real?”

  A deep, male chuckle that’d been hovering around the edge of her consciousness suddenly burst out as full-blown laugh. A sexy, deep laugh. Her insides clenched.

  “Well, Melanie?” Jordan asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

  Did he actually think she would answer Marvin’s question, let alone in front of him? The longer she stared, the more uncomfortable she became. Her entire body tingled. Her mouth went dry, and she tried separating the word “orgasm” from thoughts of Jordan. Okay. That was impossible. Probably a symptom of sex deprivation. Besides, she was supposed to be a lesbian.

  When she realized she was mentally unbuttoning Jordan’s shirt, she gave him a wry smile and turned back to Marvin. “Why don’t you have Jordan give you the details about fake orgasms? I’m sure he’s lived through enough to have an expert opinion.” She turned and walked toward the exit.

  Jordan caught up to her before she’d gone five steps and matched her stride. What were you
supposed to do after making a slur about a man’s sexual ability? Lacking a brilliant idea, she kept right on walking.

  “Want to get a drink?” he asked.

  “No.” She wanted to get away before he went back to the subject of orgasms. She breezed out the door, but Jordan stuck to her side. How ironic. When she wanted the man, he couldn’t even see her. Now that she wanted to escape, she couldn’t get rid of him.

  “Let’s go for a walk.” He matched her pace as she headed down the dimly lit sidewalk.

  “I prefer to walk alone.” She went as fast as her high heels would allow. She thought of taking them off and making a run for it, but with his long legs he’d still catch her.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  His voice lost the casual bantering tone, and she bit her tongue before she could refuse. They were silent as they rounded the corner. His nearness made her body hum. Jumping him wouldn’t be hard. She might not be the woman of his dreams, but he was male. Testosterone pumped through him in abundance, if his effect on her was an indicator. When they reached that dark doorway, she could wrap her arms around him and pull him into it. She’d kiss him like he’d never been kissed before and...

  “A nice night,” he said, and she snorted. “Tell me,” he continued, giving her the smile that melted her in high school. “Are you really a lesbian?”

  “Of course.” They stopped, and she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. They were serious and direct, despite his easy smile. They were also piercing holes in her façade. This was Jordan, the same male she’d fantasized about since she was twelve.

  “What happened with Jen?”

  She ran her finger over the smooth metal of a street lamp. “We made a bet.” When he remained silent, she shrugged. “She made me mad, and then bragged about her husband until I couldn’t stand it anymore. She told me her partner was hotter than mine. Then we were making a bet out of it. Julia won. She’s pretty amazing.”