Deal-Breaker

by Siri Caldwell

  “And this theory is based on dating a grand total of how many men?”

  Because why sleep with men at all if she found them so disappointing? Then again, she knew plenty of straight women‌—‌her coworker Chloe was a prime example‌—‌who seemed to get an incomprehensible sexual charge out of fighting with members of the opposite sex. Rae snuck a sideways glance at Jori as they continued walking. The truth was, she didn’t want Jori to be one of those people. She didn’t want Jori to like men.

  Even though the existence of Jori’s daughter suggested she’d been with at least one man. Unless she’d gone the turkey baster route. But why do that if she didn’t have to? Anyway it was unlikely, since conceiving anything other than a boy through artificial insemination was the closest thing to a miracle a lesbian was likely ever to see.

  The self‌-‌proclaimed pheromone expert skimmed a hand across the back of Rae’s shoulders, barely touching the thin fabric of her blouse. Rae tingled beneath her hovering fingertips, waiting for her to make full contact, yearning for something more than this almost‌-‌touch, shaking with nervousness at being out in the open where people could see. So different from performing for the photographer with Kaoli, where she hadn’t felt nervous because it wasn’t real.

  Please say zero.

  “I don’t believe in labels, sunshine, and if I tell you how many men, you’re going to slap a label on me.” Jori drew her into the protective circle of her arm as if to shelter her from the stream of passersby.

  Rae didn’t need protecting, but the thought of letting Jori take care of her made her feel so safe that her legs became unsteady and she swayed into her.

  “Is Axel one of them?” she said into Jori’s shoulder, acutely aware they were touching.

  Jori hesitated. The word no vibrated through Rae’s mind, filling the silence that dragged on and on. No, Axel is not one of those men. No, absolutely not. No, no, no. Because if Jori said yes, that would mean the number she didn’t want to tell her was not zero.

  “We’re not dating,” Jori said. “I told you, we’re pretending.”

  That was the answer it had taken her so long to think about? What was she not telling her? Rae looked her in the eye. It was none of her business what Jori did on their dates, fake or not, but she didn’t want to be lied to.

  “Are you pretending to sleep with him?”

  Jori smiled. “Are you pretending to be shocked?”

  “I’m not shocked. I’m…‌” Rae shook her head. She still didn’t understand why Jori would pretend to date a man she wasn’t on some level attracted to. She was certainly flirtatious enough to get a real date. With someone who didn’t care that she hopped up and down the sexual continuum. “Why are you doing it? He’s going to want to sleep with you for real.”

  “I doubt his boyfriend would put up with that.”

  “Oh.” The flood of relief caught her by surprise and she almost twisted her ankle.

  Jori tightened her hold on her shoulder until Rae was stable, then moved her hand firmly to the small of her back. Warmth licked at the tension in her lower back and her spine arched subtly under Jori’s hand. It was a struggle to keep the reflex under control, to not do more. Not long ago it had been a joke, arching her back like a cat in heat to see if she could make Jori laugh, but now her body’s reaction was real. She was almost glad her ankle was unsteady, because it meant Jori would stay close to make sure she didn’t fall. As a dancer she’d been taught to push through pain and smile no matter what, to create the illusion that the contortions she put her body through were effortless, so she felt guilty showing weakness. But if showing weakness meant Jori would stand by her side and offer a steadying hand, she’d live with the guilt.

  “If I ask if you sleep with women, you won’t tell me that, either, will you?”

  Jori brought her lips close to her ear. “Maybe someday you’ll work your wiles on me and find out.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Someday?

  The concert had wrapped up half an hour ago and Rae was still obsessing over what Jori had meant. Maybe someday she’d work her wiles on her? What did she mean, someday? Someday she’d sleep with her? Someday she’d figure out her secrets?

  Whatever she’d meant, that day was coming soon. She wasn’t going to wait forever to kiss her again. Kissing her was all she could think about‌—‌when she wasn’t thinking about sleeping with her. It had made it hard to sit beside her all through the concert without doing anything more than surreptitiously brush her knuckles against her thigh or lean over to make unnecessary comments so she’d have an excuse to hover at her ear. They’d had front‌-‌row seats, and she wasn’t going to do more than that where her boss‌—‌or a fan with a camera phone‌—‌might notice.

  The situation was no better now that they were on the street with Sylvie, Chloe, and Preston and heading for a nearby Ethiopian restaurant, because a late‌-‌night dinner meant it would be another couple hours before she and Jori were alone and jumping her would become a possibility.

  Their group was quickly seated at a round table and Rae snagged a spot beside Jori. She could behave. She repositioned her leg on her low, ottoman‌-‌like stool and wished her fashionably tight jeans weren’t quite so restrictive as she tried to find a comfortable position without accidentally kicking anyone.

  When the communal platter piled with mounds of mashed lentils, spicy beef, chopped collard greens and other colorful purées arrived, Jori and Preston dove in, tearing off strips of injera, the spongy Ethiopian flatbread, to scoop up the meat and vegetables. Rae helped herself at a more civilized pace to some chickpea mash while Chloe and Sylvie held back from the feeding frenzy and sipped cardamom tea.

  Preston reached across the table enthusiastically for the garlicky lamb. “This is why I enjoy going out to eat with you girls‌—‌more food for me.”

  Preston was right. Female dancers did eat, but no one wanted to eat in front of witnesses. No wonder he seemed happy when Ralph had begged off, apologizing for being exhausted. No Ralph meant less competition.

  “Mmm. This is sooo good,” Preston taunted, waving the food in the air and smacking his lips. “I think I’ll have as much of it as I want. More than I want. I’m going to eat until I’m stuffed.”

  “You’re disgusting,” Chloe said.

  “I know I am,” Preston said happily. “But you can’t deny the food is amazing. And this bread…‌ Do you know what this bread always reminds me of?”

  Rae’s eyes widened. She hoped she wasn’t blushing, but she knew she was‌—‌her cheeks were burning. She didn’t dare look at Jori. No one else was reacting at all. No one except Chloe, who glanced from face to face, confused, before taking a cautious bite of injera to check it out.

  Preston laughed at Rae’s discomfort and pointed at her. “The lesbian knows.”

  Chloe stopped chewing and did not take a second bite. “If that means what I think it means…‌”

  “He’s trying to put you off your food,” Rae said, wondering just how red she was. “Ignore him.”

  She probably couldn’t get any redder than she already was, so she risked a peek at Jori’s face. Nothing. She couldn’t tell if Jori knew what he was talking about. Was she as oblivious as Chloe? Or did she just have a better poker face than Rae? And what did that say about her?

  “Don’t you just love the texture?” Preston waved a piece of bread in Rae’s face, daring her to…‌what? Catch it in her mouth?

  Rae pushed his hand away. “I can’t decide whether you’re being a jerk or if this is your way of proving how straight you are.”

  Preston popped the bread in his mouth with a smirk, chewed, and swallowed. “Hey, if I was being a jerk I’d say I hated the texture.”

  “Unless it’s your way of bragging about how good you are in bed,” Rae said.

  Preston reached in front of Chloe and snagged her injera. “Are you eating that?”

  Chloe gave him the evil eye.

  “There’
s this theory that you can predict how good a woman is in bed by how she eats,” Preston said, returning to his favorite topic. “If she chows down and doesn’t hold back, it means she’s uninhibited.”

  Oh, Jori was going to love this. She could add it to her ever‌-‌lengthening list of all the ways in which men didn’t understand the opposite sex. Or was it a list of reasons why straight sex was not worth bothering with? No, oops, that was Rae’s list. Jori’s list was about being attracted to the wrong thing and going for it anyway. Or something. She was sure Jori would be happy to clarify. After Jori was done chowing down on their late‌-‌night meal. In an uninhibited manner.

  Thank you, Preston, for that visual.

  Rae forced herself to stop watching Jori eat and turned to Chloe. “Remind him of this the next time you practice lifts and he complains about your weight.”

  Preston continued, undeterred. “If she won’t eat, then…‌”

  “Are you trying to make a point?” Chloe said, her usual hostility toward her dance partner ramping up.

  Preston laughed and gave a shrug. “I didn’t say I agreed with the theory. If you ask me, it’s all bullshit.”

  Rae stared, amazed that he would back down from an argument with Chloe. He loved arguing with Chloe. She suspected it turned him on. Why else would he even have mentioned this theory that was guaranteed to set off everyone at the table? Even Jori appeared to be ready to come to the defense of picky eaters everywhere.

  Preston shoveled more food into his mouth and swallowed. “Hotness isn’t about how she eats or what she weighs. All I want to know is, is she a dancer? Yes or no. It’s as simple as that. If she is a dancer, she’ll be great in bed. If not, forget it.”

  “Good save,” Chloe said, “but I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m serious,” Preston said. “Although I will admit I prefer ballet‌-‌dancer thin. I want a woman who dreams about me, not about a hunk of hamburger.”

  Sylvie shuddered at the mention of red meat.

  Jori reached across the table for the beef, which had mysteriously migrated to Preston’s end of the table. She didn’t seem to mind being lumped into the not‌-‌a‌-‌dancer, not‌-‌great‌-‌in‌-‌bed category.

  “You honestly want us to believe that in your opinion, women like us are sexier than the thousands of big‌-‌breasted non‌-‌dancers you’ve slept with?” Chloe said.

  “Thousands of big…‌?” Preston sputtered. “Is that what you think of me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t do big.”

  “You’re an embarrassment to biological evolution,” Jori told him, helping herself to more beef. “Didn’t anyone ever let you in on the secret that you’re supposed to like big‌-‌hipped, big‌-‌breasted women who look like they can give you babies?”

  Preston smiled boyishly, jumping at the chance to turn on the charm for the next potential mother of his children. No wonder he was able to convince so many women to sleep with him. “Not too many hourglass shapes in my formative years. I grew up taking ballet with stick‌-‌skinny, flat‌-‌chested bunheads in leotards. I’m warped.”

  “He is warped,” Chloe agreed.

  “Speaking of warped,” Sylvie said, turning to Rae, “we think Kaoli’s flirting with the new sound technician.”

  “Tom?” As far as Rae knew, only two techs‌—‌Tom and Graciela‌—‌had been hired when the previous ones left at the end of last year’s tour after a big blowup that had kept everyone talking for months.

  “Guess again.”

  “Not Graciela.”

  Sylvie nodded, looking pleased with herself. “Graciela never flirts back, but…‌”

  A woman? No. Kaoli would never have tried to get Rae into bed if she already had a woman in her life. And she could say so, because her friends knew her very public relationship was a lie, and they knew the drill: say nothing to anyone about the boss or risk losing your job. So she said it. “Kaoli’s not gay.”

  “Just because she won’t sleep with you doesn’t mean she’s not gay,” Preston said.

  “I don’t want to sleep with her,” Rae said.

  “Preston, leave Rae alone,” Sylvie said. “Or at least thank her for the bonuses we all got when ticket sales went up after Rae agreed to play along with Kaoli’s stunt.”

  Jori drew an audible breath. “You really aren’t her girlfriend.”

  Rae turned to her in disbelief. “I told you I wasn’t.”

  “You did,” Jori agreed.

  “You didn’t believe me?”

  “I wanted to believe you. I knew you didn’t really like her, but there was something between you, some weird vibe, and I didn’t know what that meant.”

  “Rae and Kaoli have a weird vibe?” Preston asked. “A sexual vibe? Since when?”

  “Since never,” Chloe said.

  Because Rae had done an excellent job of suppressing those old feelings, even from herself. None of her coworkers had ever known she and Kaoli had been anything more than childhood friends. Only Jori had been able to spot it.

  “No offense, Rae, but Kaoli’s just not into you,” Preston said. “Her sexual vibe is all about Graciela.”

  Rae scowled. “All about Griffin, you mean.”

  “The boyfriend? I don’t think so. We never see him. And why else would she hire a female sound guy?” Preston smiled. He knew he was being obnoxious. Again.

  “That doesn’t make her interested in her, it makes her not sexist,” Rae said.

  “Why else would she hire a gay female sound guy?” Preston said.

  “Because the gay female sound guy knows how to do the job?” Rae replied.

  “You think Graciela’s gay?” Chloe asked Preston. “Based on what?”

  “Yes, please enlighten us, Preston.” Rae didn’t know Graciela well‌—‌she’d been injured soon after Graciela was hired‌—‌but she hadn’t gotten that feeling from her. Then again, her success rate at identifying women’s sexual orientation wasn’t all that great.

  “Number one, she introduces herself as ‘the sound guy,’” Preston said.

  “I think she does that to make a point,” Rae said.

  “What point is that?”

  “Haven’t you ever noticed how everywhere we go, everyone’s always saying stuff like ‘Get me your sound guy’ or ‘Where’s your lighting guy?’ Guy, guy, guy.”

  “I don’t think she minds it,” Preston said. “I think she likes being ones of the guys.”

  “Being one of the guys doesn’t make her gay,” Rae said. “It makes her a techie.”

  “Why are you arguing? You should want her to be gay. More people on your team,” Preston said.

  “What I want,” Rae said, “is to understand why I’m sacrificing my integrity for my career if there’s someone else. I know it was that photo of the kiss by the swimming pool that started it, but if Kaoli’s interested in Graciela, she could have publicly dumped me and switched to a new girlfriend. Why is she sticking with me if she has someone else?”

  “Maybe Graciela doesn’t want her,” Preston said.

  “Rae doesn’t want her either,” Sylvie pointed out.

  “Rae’s good for her image,” Chloe said. “Graciela’s just a sound guy that Preston thinks might be gay. Rae we know is a lesbian. She’s photogenic, she’s not afraid to be lovey‌-‌dovey in public, she knows how to perform in front of an audience, she makes Kaoli look the part.”

  “True,” Preston said. “Rae’s a good actress. All Graciela knows how to do is look sexy moving her hands over a soundboard.”

  Great. Now her friends thought her highest achievement as a performer was her willingness to hold hands with Kaoli in public.

  “Maybe this Graciela person, whoever she is, can afford to say no,” Jori said. “I’m no expert, but I imagine sound technicians have an easier time finding jobs than dancers do.”

  Sylvie gasped. “Did she threaten your job, Rae?”

  “Of course she threatened her job,�
� Preston said, as if he were the one who’d thought of it. “Have you not noticed how easy it is to get fired around here?”

  Rae shrugged. “She mentioned it.”

  “That’s outrageous,” Sylvie said. “You should quit.”

  “Hard to get another dance job when my leg’s out of commission,” Rae said.

  Sylvie glanced down at her leg and winced. No dancer wanted to be reminded of how easily a career could be cut short. “It’s not right.”

  “It’s not that big a deal,” Rae said.

  It hadn’t been, at first. But now? Now she was starting to wonder what it had all been for. And how much longer she was willing to do whatever she could to ensure Kaoli’s success.

  “I’m almost more worried about Lorenzo,” Rae said. “Did you hear him today?” He was never exactly friendly, but this afternoon he’d been borderline rude. “He thinks I’m not coming back, doesn’t he?”

  “No one thinks that,” Sylvie said.

  “He doesn’t want me in rehearsals. He must think there’s no point in my keeping up with the choreography. Because I won’t be performing it.”

  Sylvie put up a hand to stop her. “Don’t say that.”

  “Kaoli will make him keep you,” Chloe said. “She has to, after everything you’ve done for her. Like that swimming pool kiss? That was huge.”

  “Don’t forget the photos we did this afternoon,” Rae said.

  “You mean when Kaoli dragged you out of rehearsals the minute you said there were paparazzi outside?” Sylvie shook her head in sympathy. “How did those turn out?”

  “I didn’t look.” She’d been putting it off all evening because she didn’t want to be reminded.

  “You didn’t?” Preston clucked disapprovingly and whipped out his phone to tap out a search. “Got it.” He peered at the screen. “Wait a minute. What happened here?”

  Everyone looked at him, but he didn’t explain, just turned his screen toward Rae.