Anaya’s forehead furrowed. “Usually, people who don’t have pictures are just voyeurs. I don’t respond to their messages, and I certainly don’t message them. But something in your profile summary was so open and honest, it made me want to know more about you. Now that I know you’re a writer, it makes sense. You’re an artist. I’m definitely drawn to artists.” Anaya laughed. “See what I did there? I’m drawn to artists.”
Izzy laughed, too. Anaya seemed more like her Saturday self in that moment. “I’m a technical writer. I’m afraid there isn’t much art in it.”
“There’s something there maybe you don’t realize.” Anaya tipped her empty wineglass at her.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Anaya refilled her glass. “This wine is from his vineyard, you know. Bocelli’s. The opera singer. You know his work, don’t you?”
Izzy wasn’t an opera enthusiast, but she’d heard of him. “Some.”
Anaya leaned her head back against the booth and closed her eyes. “I love to listen to him when I’m at the beach at night, listening to the waves crashing on the sand.”
“Sounds nice.” Izzy took a sip of water. “I love the ocean but don’t go nearly enough.”
“Have you ever made love on the beach at night, Izzy?”
Izzy choked on her water.
“I surprised you.” Anaya laughed. “It was an honest question. There’s something so romantic about the crashing waves and opera. A warm night. A beautiful woman. You can’t do anything else with that combination but make love, don’t you agree?”
“It sounds nice,” Izzy said between coughs.
“Maybe when we get to know each other better, we can take a weekend at the beach,” Anaya suggested.
Izzy couldn’t tell if she was just painting a nice possibility or whether she was being literal. Either way, she was moving a little too fast for Izzy’s comfort.
The server came with their food, saving her from answering.
Anaya filled her glass again. How had she finished it so quickly? Izzy’s first glass was still full, but Anaya didn’t seem to notice. She had to put her hand over the rim when Anaya tried to top it off.
Anaya smiled. “More for me.”
The food looked great, and Izzy was glad to have something to distract them from the direction their conversation had taken.
Anaya took a bite of her steak, and her eyes rolled back. “I can’t believe you haven’t had this steak. It’s fantastic. Like an orgasm in my mouth.”
Izzy nearly choked again but didn’t respond, concentrating on her ravioli. She was surprised she could even taste it through the smog of anxiety taking over. It wasn’t as fantastic as Anaya’s steak, apparently, but it was as good as she remembered.
“Here. You have to try this.” Anaya held a forkful of food toward her.
Izzy had just put some food in her mouth and held up her finger. Anaya continued to hold the fork with steak on it in front of her mouth as she chewed, and Izzy became self-conscious. She swallowed the ravioli before she was completely ready, and she had a hard time swallowing. At the same time, Anaya moved her fork closer, so Izzy had no choice but to open her mouth and allow her to stick the food in. The whole thing was awkward with an air of false intimacy, and Izzy covered her mouth with her hand to chew in private while Anaya watched her with an expression of anticipation. Izzy couldn’t taste anything through her embarrassment, but she nodded and tried to smile even as she chewed and chewed in an effort to get the steak down without choking.
“Isn’t it the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”
Izzy held up her finger as she continued to chew and finally swallowed it. “It’s very good,” she lied.
“How’s the ravioli?”
“It’s good.”
“Can I have a taste?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Izzy pushed her plate across the table so Anaya could reach it.
“You do it,” Anaya said. “It’s sexy when a woman feeds me.”
Izzy didn’t know what to do. She’d never fed an adult before, and she sure as hell hadn’t felt sexy as Anaya had watched her chewing the steak. Still, she pulled the plate back, cut a ravioli in half, and scooped it up. Anaya opened her mouth and leaned toward her, gazing at her. The moment felt forced and anything but sexy, and Izzy felt trapped in the weird game-play. Halfway to Anaya’s mouth, the food fell off the fork and onto the table.
Anaya raised an eyebrow. “I make you nervous. I like that.”
Izzy put her fork down and raked her hands across her face.
“Here. I’ll help you.” Anaya took Izzy’s hand and put the fork back into it. Then she guided Izzy’s hand, spearing the other half of the ravioli, and delivered the food to her own mouth.
“Mmm!” Anaya chewed the ravioli while staring into Izzy’s eyes.
Izzy couldn’t look away, but not because she enjoyed the moment. Quite the opposite. She was almost repulsed.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said, wiping her mouth with her napkin and sliding out of the booth.
All the stall doors were open, and the bathroom was empty. She locked herself in a stall, leaned against the door after she locked it, and tried to think of excuses to leave. She had to get out of here. Maybe she could claim her stomach was upset.
Hadn’t she learned her lesson with Kelly?
She shook her head. Nothing about this situation resembled her time with Kelly, so why was she thinking about her right now? Maybe it was the sensation of extreme surrealism. Maybe it was the feeling of trying to be someone she wasn’t. Her head felt staticky, and things she hadn’t thought about in years were coming back to her. Her relationship with Kelly had quite literally been a crazy time for her. She’d just started college, Kelly had been her first real girlfriend, and as it turned out, her last, if she didn’t count Siobhan—which she didn’t. Being with Kelly had started out as the best time of her life and ended as the worst.
At first, being in love for the first time has been bliss. Several months of toe-curling, walking-on-air euphoria. Her spiral into hell had started when she’d come back from using the restroom after making love to Kelly, and she’d overheard Kelly say “I love you, babe” to someone on the phone.
Izzy pressed her fingers against her eyes, remembering everything about that moment: running back to the bathroom to be sick, crying uncontrollably, lying to Kelly about her lunch not sitting well in her stomach.
Days of turmoil had followed as she’d alternately provided excuses for Kelly and felt cheated on, until the confrontation, when Kelly finally admitted she was planning to move away to be with her former girlfriend at the end of the semester. An ache had consumed her then, and she’d started planning ways to escape it. She stole her roommate’s prescription sleeping pills, a handful of pain medication, and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, which she used to wash the pills down, and curled up on her bed in her dorm room, ready to be freed from the pain. But she’d woken up in the hospital when a person in green scrubs shoved a tube down her throat and filled her stomach with a thick concoction of charcoal, making her heave and retch.
She’d spent a month locked up in a behavioral-health hospital, where she was put on a suicide watch and diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She remembered moving from her school in Ohio back home to San Jose in a lithium fog, where she put college on hold to focus on fixing herself. Numerous med adjustments during months of intensive outpatient psychotherapy where she’d battled suicidal ideation were also hazy. Years of therapy and rebuilding her shattered self-confidence had followed, during which she swore to herself she would never fall in love again and risk repeating the hell she had finally escaped.
She’d had no indication she was bipolar before she’d met Kelly. The blush of new love had camouflaged the mania at first. But then the crush of the breakup had plunged her into the abyss of depression. That’s when the cycling began—amazing highs followed by debilitating lows. And always the anxiety. Medication treated much of the symp
toms, but it took intensive therapy and hard work to learn the coping skills designed to help her manage her fluid emotional states and chaotic thought processes. It had taken most of her twenties for her to level out, and in the mysterious ways of the human mind, she had blocked most of the bad stuff. Until now, when snippets of that time kept sneaking in.
What the fuck had she been thinking? Why had she risked triggering this personal hell? She needed to get out of here.
“Izzy?” Anaya’s voice echoed against the marble walls.
Izzy hadn’t heard the door to the bathroom open, and she held back a groan. The stall walls went all the way to the floor, so Anaya couldn’t see her, but she was the only one in there, so it was obvious where she was. “Be right out.”
She flushed the toilet, even though she hadn’t used it, and opened the stall. Anaya was right there, blocking her exit.
“Thank goodness. Are you okay?” Anaya touched Izzy’s arm. “You left the table so quickly, I thought maybe you had gotten sick.”
“To be honest, my stomach—”
“This is like a little private room.” Anaya put her hand in the center of Izzy’s chest and pushed her back into the stall.
“What are you doing?” Panicked, Izzy already knew.
“This.” Anaya cupped Izzy’s face and kissed her.
Shock paralyzed Izzy. Even if she could have found it in herself to move, it would have been difficult with Anaya leaning against her, holding her captive against the wall. Anaya’s mouth was soft at first, her kiss was gentle, so Izzy allowed it, hoping Anaya would finish and let her leave. But the kiss grew firmer, Anaya’s breathing became rapid, and her tongue sought entry into Izzy’s mouth. Anaya wrapped her arms around Izzy, pressed harder against her, and pushed her thigh between her legs.
Still, Izzy didn’t move. She just stood there and let it happen.
Anaya’s lips moved across Izzy’s cheek and down to her neck. “Izzy, I want you. Come home with me tonight.”
Izzy put her hands on Anaya’s arms, ready to push her away. “I…I can’t. Not tonight.”
Anaya kissed her neck. “Please. I don’t usually plead, but I will. There’s just something about you. You make me so ready. And your kisses, God, your kisses.”
Izzy would have laughed if she wasn’t so shocked. What kisses? Anaya had done all the kissing. “I can’t, Anaya. I need to go home tonight. I took the train.”
“I took a cab. We can go to my house. You’ll love it there.”
Izzy gently pushed Anaya away from her and, to her relief, Anaya took a step back. Anaya’s eyes were dark with desire.
“I have to go home to my dog.”
“We can go to your house, then.”
Anaya tried to kiss her again, but Izzy turned her head. Undaunted, Anaya began to kiss her neck.
Izzy tried to slip away. “Anaya, I can’t. Not tonight.”
Anaya whimpered against Izzy’s neck, and the vibration made Izzy shiver. It wasn’t passion, but Anaya must have thought it was.
“Here then. Right here. Put your hands on me.” Anaya took Izzy’s hand and guided it up her skirt.
Izzy no longer felt like she was in her own body, and she observed herself laughing and stepping away. “We’re in a public bathroom.”
Anaya grabbed for her. “I can be quiet. It won’t take long. I’m so ready.”
Izzy sidestepped out of her arms. “Anaya, our dinner is getting cold.” She opened the stall door and stepped out.
“God. I forgot we had food.” Anaya laughed and straightened her clothes. Then she grabbed the door and closed it. “I’ll meet you at the table. I have to pee.”
Izzy didn’t even wash her hands before she rushed back to the table. What a mess. Nothing had prepared her for this, but she didn’t need experience to know Anaya was coming on way too strong. Any resemblance to Jane was wiped away. The two were nothing alike, and she felt bad for ever thinking differently. Why was she even dwelling on it now? The numbness left her, and her chest went tight again. She was having trouble breathing. An uncomfortable buzz filled her head as thoughts and emotions spun around, spiraling up her anxiety level. She was on the verge of a panic attack, and just the possibility jacked it up even more. Self-recrimination raced through her mind, and she couldn’t remember any of her coping exercises. She needed to get out of here, but more than anything, she needed someone to ground her.
She looked toward the bathrooms to watch for Anaya and slid her phone out of her pocket. She didn’t know what else to do. She called Audie.
The phone only rang once, thank God. Good old Audie. “’Sup? Aren’t you supposed to be on your big date?”
Izzy held her hand over her mouth and the phone and spoke quietly. “I am. But she wants to sleep with me! Help!” She looked around. No one seemed to be listening.
A whoop sounded across the line. “You go, girl!”
“It’s not a good thing!” she whispered between her teeth.
Audie giggled. “Why not? Wait. Never mind. I forgot who I was talking to.”
“How do I get out of it?” Laughter cackled through the speaker again, and Izzy almost had to hold the phone away from her ear. “It’s not funny, Audie. I’m freaking out.”
“Just tell her you don’t want to.”
“She’s not taking no for an answer.”
“What do you mean?” Audie’s voice grew serious.
“I mean, she’s being really insistent. Really, really insistent. She followed me to the bathroom and, well—”
Anaya came into sight and stopped at the bar on her way back to the table. At first, Izzy wondered if she was just chatting with the bartender, but the bartender gave her another drink, which she guzzled.
“Are you still there?” Audie asked.
Izzy slid low in the booth. “I think she’s an alcoholic.”
“What?”
Izzy kept her eye on Anaya as she paid for the new drink. “I’ll tell you about it later. I just need to know what to do to get out of this.”
“Do you need someone to pick you up?”
“God, yes. If you could, I’d be forever in your debt.”
As Anaya finished her drink and walked toward their table, Izzy was surprised she wasn’t weaving after so much alcohol. She wanted to hang up the phone, but she needed Audie to come pick her up. Besides, abruptly hanging up would be suspicious.
“I’m in Vegas for that design conference.”
Izzy’s stomach dropped. “I forgot you were out of town.” What was she going to do? And now Anaya had seen her on the phone. Great.
“I’ll call Hector and send him over. You’re at the Bull and Bear, right?”
Izzy’s hopes rekindled, and she sat up in the booth. Anaya made it to the table. “I’ll see you when you get back to town, Mom. I have to go.”
“Oh, is she back?” Audie whispered through the line. Izzy was relieved Audie caught on so quickly, but she didn’t know why she was whispering. Anaya couldn’t hear her over the phone.
“Yes. That’s right.” She rolled her eyes and mouthed the word “Mom” as she pointed at the phone when Anaya raised her eyebrows.
“Okay. Okay. I’m calling Hector right now,” Audie whispered.
“I love you, too, Mom. Hugs to Dad! I hope he gets home soon.” Izzy ended the call and slid her phone back into her pocket.
Anaya smiled as she slid into her seat. “Did you miss me?”
Izzy laughed, not knowing what to say.
“Your mom called?” Anaya took a sip of her wine.
Did Anaya really believe it or was she on to her?
“I normally wouldn’t have answered, but they’re getting on in years, and when one of them calls, I usually answer to make sure everything’s okay.” Technically true, but she felt bad for misleading Anaya.
“You’re such a thoughtful person.” Anaya leaned forward with her wineglass, her voice a little slurred. “It’s one of the things I find extremely attractive about you. One of ma
ny, many things.”
“Well, I…uh…” Izzy didn’t know what to say, and she found it hard to look Anaya in the eye.
“I like that, too.” Anaya gestured with the glass as she spoke, and a slosh of wine stained the white tablecloth. “You always get so flustered when I compliment you. It’s so cute.”
“I’m not good with compliments.” It was the truth.
“I think you’ll get used to it.” Anaya winked. “When I find a woman attractive, I make sure she knows it. And you, Izzy, are a very, very attractive woman.”
“Uh, thank you. As are you.” She didn’t want to egg her on, but as much as Anaya was making her feel uncomfortable, she was a beautiful woman.
“You’re so far away.” Anaya slid from her side of the booth and pushed herself into Izzy’s side.
Surprised, Izzy moved over to make room, but Anaya just pressed closer. Izzy felt trapped.
Anaya pinched one of the ties of Izzy’s shirt and tugged playfully on it. The loose bow slipped free. Izzy wore a camisole under the shirt, but the move felt uncomfortably intimate. The tightness in her chest increased, and she breathed heavily, probably giving Anaya the wrong idea. Sweat beaded in her hairline. She fought for clarity.
“Um, tell me about the project you just finished.” She needed to distract her until Hector could get there.
“That’s boring.” Anaya smiled and put the end of the string in her mouth and then used the wet end to draw circles on the skin of Izzy’s cleavage.
Izzy looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was watching and tried to think of a way to distract her. “I…uh…I like to hear about the things intelligent women do at work. It…um…it turns me on.”
Anaya pulled back and grinned. “It does? I’d read the stock report to you if you told me it turned you on.” She took Izzy’s hand and traced the lines in her palm as she described the project she’d worked on over the summer. Izzy had a hard time listening as Anaya intermittently kissed her neck and played suggestively with her fingers. Izzy kept looking toward the door, hoping Hector would be there.
Anaya had reached the part where she had made the final project presentation to her CEO, and her hand was creeping up Izzy’s thigh. Izzy was almost in a panic and had no idea how to distract her any longer.
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