by Julian Bloom
Mom’s version of never saying another word was different from other people’s, but it was better than nothing, as these things went. “Okay,” Lena said, flipping open her calendar. “It’ll have to be early, I have a meeting in the afternoon- “
“Lena, you own the whole business, why do you need to work on the weekend.”
Lena bit her tongue. The because owning the business is a responsibility conversation never went well. Dad had understood. Mom never had, or wouldn’t. She’d never been entirely sure which it was.
“I’ll be there, Mama, but I need to leave at 2.”
The Mama softened her up. “All right, Lena-love. We’ll see you then.”
Chapter Two
It was past 5 by the time Lena was able to power off her computer and put away the invoices she’d been fighting with all week. She was working on implementing a new inventory management system across the restaurants, and while the technical installation had gone fine, getting everyone on the same page about how and when to use it was a struggle. Some of her servers were still convinced that since they remembered numbers differently, the number of dishes sold was wrong in the software, and one of her chefs was vehemently insisting that using the inventory controls was stifling her art. She’d been putting together another presentation to show how much the software would save them – and how she could translate that in terms of new equipment and salary increases. Appeal to their economic interests, if not their art, she told herself. It’d work. She hoped.
With the business packed away for the night, she was ready to hit the lounge across town for a glass of wine and a laugh with her best friend, Melissa. The lounge wasn’t hers, which was nice. If she stayed at one of her own businesses, she’d never get to relax.
She locked the door and drove to Butterfly, where she could spend an hour without worrying about letting her secrets slip.
It was funny. She never meant to be looking at the back half of her 30s and still be in the closet. She’d always planned to tell her parents that she identified as a lesbian once she found someone she wanted to bring home for a family dinner. It seemed like so much work to have that conversation beforehand. But then there had been the whole debacle while she was running Christos downtown, and then Daddy had died, and she was so quietly horrified at the idea of telling her mother, but having her father never know this thing that had somehow become such a huge part of her sense of self, that she just…didn’t say anything. Besides, she didn’t have time to date anyway. So it was irrelevant.
She and Melissa usually went to Butterfly with the Friday night crowd, but sometimes afterwards, when Melissa went home, Lena went to 66 on Mark, a gritty bar downtown that had a clean floor but a dirty parking lot. She didn’t hide from Melissa, but at 66, she didn’t hide from anyone.
She didn’t think tonight would be a 66 night. She was bone-weary from trying to sort out the new software, and she wanted a drink, a chat, and a long, hot bath.
Melissa normally claimed them a corner booth, but when Lena walked in, she found Melissa sitting at the bar, and all the corners full. She recognized most of the Friday night regulars, but in their normal booth was a crowd of – she hated herself for it, but she could only think of them as kids. They were young not just in appearance, but in volume, in the casual way they all had their phones out on the table and alternated between talking to each other and talking to their phones, in everything about them.
She would have thought they were adorable if they hadn’t been in her booth.
Melissa was refusing to look at the kids so fiercely that her irritation radiated off her back. She’d eschewed her usual chardonnay for what looked like some kind of … maybe an Electric Lemonade? It was neon blue, anyway, and the false-sweet citrus smell was painfully strong. “What gives,” Lena asked the air around herself as she slid onto the barstool.
Melissa shook her head ruefully. “They got here first.”
“Is that how this place operates?” Lena asked, rolling her eyes at Dmitri, the tall, dark skinned man who ran the bar at Butterfly. She’d been trying to poach him for years, offered him his choice of locations, but he was firm in his loyalties. The bastard.
Dmitri shrugged. “I offered to sit on the table and let Melissa tattoo her name on my ass so she could argue that she’d claimed it, but she was somehow resistant to the idea.”
Lena made a show of standing on the bar rail and leaning over to get a good look. Dmitri turned sideways and lifted his ass like a model. “I would have taken that deal, Melis,” Lena said. “I think he works out.”
“Our booth,” Melissa said, running her finger through the condensation on her glass and ignoring both of them just as fiercely as before. “Ours. Since college, Dmitri. Every Friday at 5, that booth is empty. Everyone knows. It’s not like Meadow Falls is so big.”
Dmitri tossed a towel over his shoulder and folded his arms across his chest. “Kiss me, and I’ll go clear them out for you.”
Melissa looked up at him, her eyes narrow. “Are you serious?”
“I was serious about the ass tattoo, too.”
“I want my booth, Dmitri.”
“Earn it,” he replied.
Lena wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen Melissa move so fast. She stood up on the rail, leaned across the bar enough to get her fingers into the cotton of Dmitri’s shirt and tugged him close. There was no way in the world she could have moved the big man if he hadn’t been willing, so when he came across the bar to meet her mouth with his, the sizzle of tension was nearly audible.
It was captivating, seeing that much want in one physical interaction. Melissa had been eyeing their bartender’s ass for many, many years, but she’d never responded to any of his gentle flirting, insisting that he was just searching for better tips. But now, there was a lot more happening. Lena liked seeing her friend being free and happy – but some part of her twisted up. She wasn’t having a midlife crisis, that was ridiculous, but it would have been nice to have someone to kiss.
They broke apart with an audible pop, and Melissa licked her lips. Dmitri’s eyes were wide, his lips swollen from the fierce pressure. “Get me my booth,” Melissa said, settling back down onto her stool, “then come back and tell me when your next break is. Because we apparently have some things to discuss.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dmitri said. Lena watched out of the corner of her eye as Melissa casually sipped at her drink.
“So, I’m drinking alone tonight, then?” she said, forcing some humor into her tone.
Melissa glanced over. “No! Definitely not. Just. Um. We’ve been talking about his ass for a while, and – I could use – “she shrugged.
“An orgasm.”
“Yes.”
“So I’m drinking alone tonight.” Maybe it would end up being a 66 night after all.
“Not necessarily. I’m sorry. I’m not sorry.”
“Don’t be really sorry, but fake it really hard for a minute.”
“Can do.”
Melissa didn’t make it to the booth at all. She and Dmitri disappeared, and Lena ended up in their traditional booth alone. The kids had mostly cleared out – apparently they’d been close to packing up anyway when Dmitri spun a story about an executive reservation – and Lena sat still, trying to understand when exactly things had gone so sideways.
She’d never been exactly popular in school, but she’d had friends, and she’d never been alone when she didn’t want to be. She’d had plenty of boyfriends, and relied on the excuse of Catholic upbringing to explain why she never wanted to do more than fool around. In college, she’d realized more about who she was and what she wanted, but she’d been so busy with culinary classes and business management courses that she never had time for more than the occasional dark fumble. And then she’d screwed up in her very first restaurant, putting herself under a microscope, and it had never been worth risking what she’d built after that.
She’d sworn to put the business first. She’d sworn she’d make her pare
nts proud. If that meant that she held off on relationships until she’d achieved a certain level of success, then fine, that would just have to be fine.
And that had been fine. It had been fine for years, and she couldn’t put her finger on why it wasn’t fine anymore.
“Did you really kick us out of our booth just so you could drink alone?”
The voice that spoke to Lena was dark and warm, smooth. She didn’t hear any irritation in it – bemusement, maybe, and perhaps a touch of mockery. But no anger.
She focused on the voice because the woman who was speaking took her breath away. She was tall, but solidly built. Her skin was dark brown, and her tightly curled hair was pulled back from her face and organized into a puff at the back of her head, a bright turquoise scarf wrapped around the base of the puff. She had high, strong cheekbones, and her mouth looked like it was made for kissing.
Lena mentally shook herself. This wasn’t 66. She needed to focus. Even though this wasn’t one of her restaurants, plenty of people she worked with could be here, or worked with suppliers she needed on her side. This wasn’t the place. “I’m sorry,” she said, the truth bubbling out before she could think better of it. “I was going to be drinking with a friend, but then she took off with the bartender, and now I’m here by myself.”
Well. That was slightly better than babbling about how gorgeous the woman was. Slightly.
“I thought you guys were on your way out?” Lena continued. That wasn’t better. She resisted the urge to clamp her lips shut with her fingers until she came back to her brain.
The woman watched her for a moment, then slid into the booth across from Lena. Her fine eyebrows arched high, and when combined with the smile that was teasing at the corner of her mouth, gave her the look of someone who was pleasantly surprised. “We were. They ended up going somewhere…” her voice trailed off and she shrugged. “How corny would it be right now if I said I wanted to stick around and see about a girl?”
Lena blinked. It took her a minute to get the reference. “Are you – did you just quote a Robin Williams film at me?”
The girl raised one eyebrow higher. “Maybe.”
Is she flirting with me? Lena took a deep breath, trying to slow down her pounding heart. “Well,” she said. “I guess it would depend on the girl you wanted to see about, then.” She traced a finger down the cool side of her glass of wine, trying to find her inner cool. It was showing no signs of presenting itself.
The girl raised her eyebrows a little higher, then raised a hand at the bar. The bartender who’d taken over for Dmitri – Sarah, her name was. Sally? Sandy? Something with an S – saw the gesture and nodded. Lena was casually impressed; the girl was here often enough that Sally-Sandy-she really needed to remember to ask knew her drink.
“I’m Kel,” the girl said as she turned back. She extended a hand across the table. It took a moment before Lena took the hand. The girl’s grip was firm, solid, and her fingers and palms were well-callused. It was a nice grip. A pleasant shiver ran up her spine at the contact, and Lena reminded herself firmly that she was probably close to twice this girl’s age.
“Lena,” she replied, after a silence that had strung out until it was uncomfortable. It took another moment to remember why she needed to let go of the girl’s hand.
“Look,” Kel said after another long moment. “I’m really shit at picking up girls. I’m pretty sure you’re trying not to look at my cleavage, but maybe you are? And if you are, do you wanna get out of here?”
It was absolutely the worst pickup line that Lena had ever heard, but the answer was a strong, resounding yes. She wanted to be somewhere else, maybe even someone else. And this girl – she was just a kid. What could go wrong?
“Yes,” Lena said. “I really do.”
Chapter Three
“So, this is me,” Kel said, spreading her arms wide and spinning just a little. She wore a long cotton skirt that flared around her knees in an innocent, childlike way. The loft apartment was tiny, but it was well organized. Soft, gauzy curtains hung down from the ceiling, creating partitions in the open floor plan, and twinkly lights hung from the ceiling, wound together with strings of ivy. The bed in the corner was covered in a plum purple duvet, and mounded with pillows.
“Sorry,” Kel said after the pause, once again, grew uncomfortable. “I don’t have a lot of visitors. In fact – I mean, I hardly ever do this – “
Lena lifted a hand and set her purse down. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m standing here like I’m judging you, and it’s completely wrong of me. Honestly, I don’t do this either, and I was trying to figure out how I go from admiring your décor to kissing you.”
Kel laughed, and the sound was merry without being thin. “So if neither of us do this, what are we doing here?”
Lena stumbled over her words, suddenly unsure of what she wanted to say and what she was doing in this room, in this place, with this almost-child. Kel, however, read the sudden shift in mood and stepped in close. Her hands danced up Lena’s arm, watching her expression closely. “Hey,” she said, her voice as soothing as if she were speaking to a frightened animal. “Hey. I’m sorry. I was trying to tease. This is kind of ridiculous, but I just kind of figured – “her cheeks flushed bright red and she laughed.
Lena picked up the thread. “Since I’m older than you, obviously I’ve done this more?”
Kel gave a little shrug that was clearly as close as the girl was going to get to saying yes. “I didn’t mean – “
Lena found herself giggling. “Random sex, I’ve done. I promise. But this – going back to someone’s place, making conversation? This part I’m not as good at.”
The girl’s pupils were dark enough to fall into, spreading out into the deep green of her eyes. “Well, then. Maybe we should stop talking.”
She stepped into Lena’s airspace, and this – this, Lena knew how to do. Her hands went to Kel’s waist, digging ever so gently into the soft flesh there, tugging her a little closer. Lena was all angles and Kel was soft curves; Kel was a little bit taller, but not so much that it made it awkward to lean in and kiss her.
The first brush of lips was tentative, soft, careful. Exploratory. The second, though; the second came with Kel’s mouth opening in a moan, and the girl dove for Lena’s mouth, her tongue and teeth finding Lena’s lips and tracing them with soft heat. Lena pulled her harder, then trailed her fingers up the girl’s sides, light enough to be ticklish, and found the bottoms of Kel’s breasts. The girl made a sound that fell somewhere between a sigh and a moan, then broke the contact all of a sudden.
Lena caught her ego before it fell to the floor and shattered. “Everything okay?”
“My knees are weak,” Kel said, her voice a little thready. “I want to take you to bed.”
“Okay,” Lena replied, and let herself be taken by the hand and led across the studio to the gauzy pile of pillows. Lena watched the girl have an awkward moment when she realized that there was no graceful way to toss the fluffy obstacles onto the floor, then saved her by doing exactly that. She sat down on the edge of the bed and made a come-hither gesture to the girl. She knew what she wanted, all of a sudden, and she was fairly sure the girl would oblige her. “Take off your pants.”
Kel raised an eyebrow at the simple command, but she did it. She didn’t waste time making it a strip tease, just hooked her thumbs into the tops of her leggings and pressed them down her thighs, kicking them off in the general direction of the pillow pile. She wore simple blue cotton panties, which was interesting. Lena would have bet money that she hadn’t gone out planning to pick someone up. Which was both flattering – it was one thing to get picked up for random sex, and another thing entirely to be so tempting that someone changes their plans – but also concerning – what would she expect after tonight.
And then Kel’s mouth turned up in a soft grin, and Lena didn’t care anymore. When Kel stepped towards her, Lena leaned back a little on the edge of the bed, enough to give Kel
space to kneel in her lap, facing her. It put an interesting discrepancy in their heights, letting Lena put her hand on the back of Kel’s neck and pull her down for another kiss. “Tell me what you want,” she breathed against the girl’s mouth.
Kel murmured something that Lena didn’t catch and ground softly – and then less softly – against Lena’s lap. “I want to forget what’s in my head,” she said after a moment, more clearly.
Lena swallowed a giggle. She remembered being that earnest, and she was pretty sure the girl wouldn’t understand what she found funny. “I’m glad to help you with that,” she replied. “But how would you like me to go about it?” The girl didn’t say anything, and Lena reached up, pressing the flat of her thumbs against Kel’s nipples, which were hard as stone inside what felt like a molded cup bra. The girl gasped, leaning into the caress. “Do you like this?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding hard.
“What about this?” Lena reached between them, cupping the heat of Kel’s sex with her hand. Kel groaned, grinding against Lena’s palm.
“Yes,” Kel said again. “All of it, yes. Please. I want. I want.”
A horrible thought ran through Lena and she pulled her hand back for a moment. Kel’s eyes opened – when had she closed them? – her gaze hazy with lust and her eyes unfocused. She made a kittenish sound, and Lena pressed a finger against her lips for a moment. “Hey,” Lena said. “I need to talk to you for a second.”
“Yeah.” Kel nodded. She closed her eyes hard for a moment, then opened them again, her gaze more tightly focused.
“I need to know I’m not your first.”
“What?”
There went her ego. “I just. You deserve better than me for your first. Anyone deserves better than me for their first.”