Love's Encore Series (Books One and Two)

by Miranda MacLeod

  “Oh, you got offered the shrimp, too? I thought that was just for donors,” Cecily teased. “But I guess you’re an important Hollywood person, and all…”

  “Are you kidding? As soon as Susan found out I wasn’t willing to have Oscar shipped here in time for the event, it was rubber chicken for me, just like the rest of the commoners.”

  Cecily laughed. “You should’ve held out for the shrimp. It would’ve eased your disappointment over not dancing with me.”

  Rorie arched her eyebrow in that way that never failed to make Cecily’s stomach flip-flop. “Are you really that certain you’ll say no?”

  Cecily scooped up her purse and turned to go, but not before she felt her cheeks achieve a fiery glow.

  “See you tomorrow night, Cici,” Rorie called after her with a chuckle. “And I'm not giving up on that dance. You will not be able to resist my charm for long!”

  Tomorrow night.

  Her heart sank. There was no way she’d be going to the gala now. Dodging the Mean Mom Brigade would be unpleasant enough, but doing so while also keeping them from getting suspicious about her past with Rorie—there was no way the evening wouldn’t end in disaster. The fact that there was nothing going on between them now wouldn't matter. Those women were like sharks with blood in the water when it came to scandal. They could smell it a mile away. Nothing would give Polly a bigger thrill than starting a rumor about Chet Parker's wife and her lesbian lover.

  It wouldn't be the first time she'd gone after someone in that way, trying to out them for being gay, although it was probably the first time there was a grain of truth to the rumor. That could make it disastrous not only for Cecily's reputation in town, but also for Chet's run for Attorney General, her father's re-election campaign, her father-in-law's business contracts … and then there was Tyler.

  Oh, God. What would Tyler think if he heard?

  By the time Cecily reached her car, she’d already decided to text Susan her regrets in the morning under the pretense of a sudden migraine. Cecily should have felt much happier about her sudden freedom than she did. A bubble bath and a glass of wine were once again the highlight of her Saturday night agenda, just the way she liked it. And there was really no other option. But instead of relief, she was deflated. Though she’d done it hundreds of times before, the weekend suddenly seemed an impossibly long time to spend alone.

  Worse yet, there would most certainly be no chance of dancing.

  Chapter 15

  The chattering buzz of dozens of conversations and the low thumping of dance music poured from the open windows as Cecily and Rorie walked side by side toward Vanessa’s house. The party was in full swing, with a crowd that far surpassed the scene in Cecily’s imagination.

  “When you said ‘party’, this wasn’t exactly what I pictured.”

  Rorie laughed. “I tried to warn you it wasn’t going to be one of your sorority tea parties!”

  “We have real parties, too!” Cecily protested. “It’s just, when you described it, I thought you said it was going to be some of your local lesbian friends. I … guess I didn’t realize there would be so many.”

  “So many … like, in Louisiana? Well, to be fair, tonight’s party is more of a tri-state regional meeting.”

  “Really?” Cecily asked in surprise. She hadn’t realized it was all so organized.

  “No!” Rorie burst out laughing. “That would be insane. My God, Cici! You know that something like ten percent of the population is gay, right? There’s more than enough of us in every town in America to at least fill a modest two-bedroom bungalow without having to bus people in from other states.”

  “Oh, right.” Cecily blushed, mortified at her naiveté. She looked nervously toward the house, her gait slowing to a shuffle as they approached the driveway.

  Rorie stopped and turned to face her. “Look, Cici, I appreciate your offer to help me get back at Lacey, but are you sure you want to go through with this? It’s obviously not your scene.”

  “No, I can do it,” Cecily replied, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. She was determined not to let Rorie down. “It’s no different from doing an acting exercise in class. I just need to focus a little, get into character.”

  “Right. So how do you do that, just pretend to like me?”

  “You’re my best friend!” Cecily laughed. “It’s not like I have to pretend to like you. Believe me, I’ve been paired with some pretty questionable partners in class before, with a grade riding on my performance. Tonight’s hardly even a challenge compared to that!”

  “Well, that’s good. I think. So, what do you need to do to prep?”

  “Okay, well first, I should take your hand. Like this.” She grabbed Rorie’s hand in her own, enjoying the feeling of taking charge. Rorie was the undisputed expert in the scene shop, but they were in her territory now. “So, I just have to pretend that I get shivers down my spine when you’re near, and when I look into your eyes I can’t look away, and…”

  As she said this, Rorie turned her head, the moonlight reflecting in her pale blue eyes and making them appear to glow. Cecily’s breath caught and she forgot what she was trying to say as the fingers holding Rorie’s hand began to tingle.

  “Wow,” Rorie said, looking impressed. “That is actually pretty convincing.”

  Cecily coughed, her throat suddenly dry. “That’s because I’m a good actress.”

  She felt unsteady and tightened her grip on Rorie’s hand as they approached the front door. Acting. That’s all it was, right?

  She’d heard other students in class talk about that feeling they got when they really connected to a character, like they’d been taken over and transformed. It’d never happened to her in quite this way before, but that had to be the reason she’d reacted so strongly. She smiled to herself, feeling a little giddy. She was really getting good at this whole acting thing.

  Once inside the house, the two women paused to look around. The air was warm and damp, typical of Louisiana even in the fall, but intensified by the press of so many bodies in a small space. Cecily surveyed the room, immediately struck by the fact that it was filled with women. Not a man in sight. She wasn’t sure she could remember a time where she didn’t have to be worried about what the men around her thought—of how she looked, how she acted, whether they needed something. She’d been raised that way, and those concerns were like second nature to her.

  She took in the women talking together, dancing together. She doubted if a single one of them had ever experienced such a thought, and she wondered what that would be like. The freedom of it made her head spin. That, combined with the throbbing music, the heat, the smell of beer and cigarettes, made her feel as if she might faint, and she clung to Rorie even more tightly than before.

  “You okay?” Rorie asked, placing a steadying hand on her.

  “Absolutely.” She took a deep breath, clearing her head. She could do this. “Where’s this ex of yours?” she asked.

  Rorie scanned the room. “Over there,” she said, pointing to a woman in the line that had formed in front of the keg. “I don’t see the new girlfriend, though.”

  Cecily looked the stranger over curiously. She realized the image she’d formed of this woman was rather unremarkable, whereas the real Lacey projected a sort of androgynous grunge style that was unexpectedly… gorgeous. No wonder Rorie’d had doubts about passing off Cecily as her date tonight. None of her friends would ever believe Rorie would choose someone as boring as her.

  “Huh. Maybe they broke up?” If they had, she could hardly blame Rorie for racing back to her ex in a heartbeat.

  Rorie smirked. “Wouldn’t that be sad. So, you’re the boss. What do we do now?” Reconciliation seemed to be the furthest thing from her mind.

  Cecily’s mood perked up at being placed in charge. “Let’s go grab a beer and make sure she sees us together. But pretend not to see her. That should infuriate her.”

  “Oh good. I’m glad we’re taking the mature appr
oach.”

  Cecily shot her a sideways look. “It could be so much worse. You wouldn’t believe some of the scenes I’ve witnessed at sorority parties. If one of the girls thought another one was after her boyfriend, better stand back! Blood would be shed.”

  Rorie looked surprised. “Somehow I never pictured those stuck up types getting into catfights.”

  Cecily shrugged. “We’re no different from anyone else when it comes to that,” she said. “Hell, we even use these same red cups for our beer,” she added, grabbing a cup as they neared the keg. She picked up one of the black markers on the table next to it and started to write her name. “Of course, we don’t put our names on them ourselves. We hire a calligrapher to do it ahead of time. It’s so much classier that way.”

  “Seriously?” Rorie asked in disbelief.

  “Of course not! That would be insane,” she said with a giggle. “Even snobs have their limits.”

  Rorie burst into a guffaw of laughter, and Cecily saw Rorie’s ex, Lacey, turn to look.

  “Perfect,” Cecily said, smiling slyly. “She’s definitely noticed us now. In fact, she’s still watching.” Though the crowded room had already pushed them together, Cecily wriggled even closer still, sliding her arm around her friend’s waist and resting her head casually against her shoulder. “That should get her attention.”

  Rorie bent her head slightly to whisper in Cecily’s ear. “You’re evil. Did you know that?”

  “I have no response to that,” Cecily whispered back. “But I feel like whispering back is in keeping with my character.”

  “Your character? You mean your moral character as a fine, upstanding politician’s daughter?” Rorie took Cecily’s cup and filled it from the keg as she spoke.

  Cecily rolled her eyes. “Hardly. My parents would die if they knew where I was right now. But speaking of dying, if Lacey’s still watching, I bet she’s dying to know what we were just whispering about.”

  “Oh, she’s still watching,” Rorie assured her. “And she looks kinda pissed. You know, as evil masterminds go, you’re not half bad. Here’s your beer,” she added, handing Cecily her cup.

  “Thanks.” She took a swig, and nearly gagged. “Jesus, what kind of beer is this?”

  “Better not to ask,” Rorie said with a grin. “Hold on, I think I see Vanessa. I should go tell her I’m here. Wanna come?”

  “Do you mind if I don’t? It’s getting really packed in here and I need some air. I think I saw a little more space in the living room.”

  Rorie nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll look for you there in a minute.”

  Cecily pushed her way through the crowd, finally finding a space in the next room that didn’t make her feel so claustrophobic. There were several couples dancing nearby and Cecily leaned against the wall and watched them with interest. She’d danced with other girls before at parties where the men were too few or too shy, but never like this. A few feet away, two women swayed, their movements so sensual, so intimate, she could feel her cheeks start to burn as she stared, transfixed.

  Cecily watched as one woman’s hands caressed the other’s back, her fingers disappearing beneath the waistband of the other woman’s jeans. Cecily looked away in embarrassment, her attention caught instead by another couple in the corner of the room, their lips devouring one another while their hands grasped at bare flesh. She experienced a surge of heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room, and gulped down the rest of the contents of her red cup. The cheap beer caught in her throat and made her choke.

  “Take it easy, there.” Rorie’s voice sounded just beside her ear. “Or I might have to carry you home.”

  Cecily spun around, giggling foolishly as she dropped her empty cup. The buzzing in her head from the beer, the lingering effects of watching so many women making out with each other, and the sudden image of being carried home in Rorie’s arms left her incapable of anything else. Her brain had turned to mush.

  Perhaps it was because they were in the real world and not a classroom, but she was getting much more caught up than in the usual improv. Cecily was suddenly reminded of the purpose for the evening, and scanned the room for any sign of Lacey. She spotted her at the far end of the room, glowering in their direction.

  “Your ex is watching us again, and it looks like she’s still alone,” Cecily said with a grin.

  “Yeah, well, Vanessa just filled me in about that. Lacey got dumped, and she’s told more than a few people that she was coming here tonight to get back together with me.”

  Cecily’s grin was replaced by concern, and she felt a tingle of disappointment as well. If Lacey was available now, why would Rorie want to spend any more time with her?

  “Should we stop? I mean, if you want to get back together with her—”

  “Hell, no.” Rorie’s tone was emphatic. “She cheated on me. No way I’d get back together with her. Would you?”

  Rorie said it with such confidence, but to Cecily it felt more like a trick question and her forehead wrinkled as she thought.

  “I’m sorry,” Rorie said. “I’d forgotten about Chet. That was really insensitive of me.”

  Even though she could almost hear the generations of women in her family making excuses for him in the back of her mind, she knew Rorie was right. Cecily shook her head. “No,” she answered. “No, it wasn’t, and no, I wouldn’t. Neither one of them deserve us. They’re not worth our time.”

  Rorie grabbed Cecily’s hands and pulled her away from the wall with a gentle tug. “You’re absolutely right. She’s taken up enough of our evening already. Wanna get out of here and watch a movie instead?”

  Cecily nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!” Just then, the opening bars of a favorite song played through the speaker, giving her an idea. “But in a minute. We can’t leave without dancing.”

  Rorie arched her eyebrow. “One last punishment for the ex?”

  Cecily felt herself break into a foolish smile. She couldn’t help herself. Something about that quizzical expression that Rorie made always sent her stomach into flip-flops. It was too adorable. She sensed that the urge to dance had nothing to do with Rorie's ex, but she wasn't sure what to make of that realization so she pushed the thought aside.

  “Something like that,” she answered with a shrug. “Chet would never dance with me, and I should get some revenge, too, right? Think of it as two for one.”

  “How could I possibly say no to that?” Rorie pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around Cecily’s waist while Cecily positioned her own at the base of Rorie’s neck. “Fair warning, though—I slow dance like a middle school boy.”

  Cecily chuckled. “That’s about the last time I did this, so I doubt I’ll notice.”

  They swayed back and forth in time to the music. Cecily had the urge to nestle her head against Rorie’s shoulder and close her eyes, but they were almost the same height so she settled for resting the side of her head against Rorie’s, watching the other dancers as they slowly rotated in place. All these women, dancing together, mesmerized her. The warmth of their bodies coupled with the heat of the room and the gentle rocking rhythm of the dance sent another wave of lightheadedness over her that was strangely delightful.

  “I feel like I should kiss you now,” she said, and felt a jolt of shock at the realization that the words had tumbled out of her mouth instead of staying locked safely inside her head. She pulled back slightly to catch Rorie’s reaction, and noted that her friend’s face looked at least as stunned as she was by what she’d just said. “My character, I mean,” she quickly added.

  That’s all this was about, right? Playing a part?

  “You know, if this were one of my acting classes, that’s what I’d probably do,” Cecily added.

  “Well, I…” Rorie’s voice trailed off as she focused on a point behind Cecily’s head, her eyes narrowing slightly.

  Cecily swiveled her head and caught a glimpse of Rorie’s ex close by. “Just a stage kiss, not a real one,” she said with
a dismissive toss of her head. She was dying of curiosity now to know what it would be like, and was almost certain Rorie would give in to her crazy idea as long as she didn’t make too big a deal of it. Her stomach fluttered. Why was she so determined to do this?

  Rorie cocked her head to one side. “How do you do a stage kiss?”

  “Here, I’ll show you,” Cecily said triumphantly, once again feeling the thrill of taking charge.

  Still swaying gently to the music, Cecily placed one hand on Rorie’s shoulder and the other on the back of her head. She touched her forehead against her friend’s, stifling a nervous giggle. Her stomach clenched again. This was crazy and foolish, but she just had to know what it would be like. A chaste peck on the lips, just like she’d done with near strangers in scenes during class a thousand times. She closed her eyes and brushed her lips in a light, feathery motion against Rorie’s.

  Exactly what happened after that was a little hazy. Perhaps she blacked out, or chose that precise moment to experience a sudden and complete out of body experience. Whatever it was, when she regained awareness of her surroundings it was with some confusion that she realized she was pressed with her back against the wall, the fingers of one hand tangled in a mass of curly black hair, the other inexplicably gliding along the damp, bare skin beneath Rorie’s tank top. Her right leg was wrapped around Rorie’s ankle, trapping her in place, and her tongue was …

  Actually, she had no idea where her tongue was. In her own mouth? In Rorie’s? She’d lost track of it, and the whereabouts of her lips and teeth were likewise a mystery. Breathless, she pulled away, opening her eyes and adjusting her expression to one she hoped would appear convincingly normal. Rorie opened her own eyes slowly, and looking into them, Cecily felt her body begin to tremble.

  “That was a stage kiss?” Rorie asked, sounding as breathless as Cecily felt. “How is that different from a regular kiss?”

  “It just is,” Cecily told her. “It’s … method acting. Very hard to explain to a non-actor. Shall we go?”