by Geonn Cannon
One of the Secret Service agents, a woman in a charcoal gray pantsuit, was carrying a box of files downstairs. Her suit jacket was gone and the sleeves of her blouse were pushed up past her elbows. Gwen admired the muscles of the woman's arms and smiled when she looked up. "Hello. I may not be able to sell anything, but I know there's some lemonade in the cooler behind the bar. Would you folks like some?"
The woman smiled. "That would certainly hit the spot, Mrs. Morse. Thank you."
"Cleary," Gwen said.
"Pardon?"
"Gwen Cleary. I'm going back to my maiden name. I'll bring the drinks in to you in a minute, Agent..."
The agent smiled. "It's Finney. Lisa Finney. And, thank you, Miss Cleary, I've been dying for something to drink." She turned her back and went into the office. Gwen looked at the agent's ass, blushed, and laughed at herself as she walked behind the bar. First the grocery store clerk, now a government agent. She was going to become a certifiable slut if she wasn't careful. She withdrew the pitcher of lemonade from the cooler, poured five glasses, and lined them all up on a tray. She carried it into the office where the Secret Service agents were gathered around Roy's desk. They all straightened as she entered.
"Bless you, ma'am," the most senior agent said as Gwen set the drinks on the desk.
"Think nothing of it. There's more where this came from; just ask."
Gwen walked out of the office and went behind the bar. She knew that the agents would go through the first pitcher of lemonade pretty quickly, as hot as it was, so she opened the fridge and got out the ingredients to make a refill. When she straightened, she glanced at the front door of the bar, and froze. The Mustang was gone.
She dropped the lemons on the counter and ran to the door, not stopping until she was in the middle of the street, breathing hard as she scanned the far distance for signs of the missing car. A plume of dust was just settling on the road, pushed around in wide eddies by the wind. But there was no sign of anyone on either side of the street, and no indication that anyone had ever been there. She turned and walked back to the door, and spotted something lying on the sidewalk.
Gwen knelt down and picked up the heavy gray piece of metal. It had a carving of a lion, rearing back on his hind legs with his forelegs in the air. His tongue was out, a crown atop his head. Gwen smiled as she ran her fingers over the engraving. She whispered, "Lancelot," as she looked at the horizon again.
The arrangements had been made via email, a brief, anonymous message that she had almost discarded as trash. At the last second, she decided to click on it, and was surprised to find a terse set of instructions. She didn't know what she had been hoping for, but she knew now that she wanted at least a brief reunion with Lance. Not sexual, not even a kiss, just to see her again. But she was gone. She had come and gone in the space of a heartbeat.
Gwen told herself it was for the best and turned the belt buckle so the engraving faced her palm. Maybe it was for the best. Lance had come into her life and changed it, had saved her. Now she was literally riding off into the sunset.
She stood, tucked the belt buckle into the pocket of her jeans, and looked down the road one last time. Tears trickled from her eyes, but she didn't wipe them away. She stared at the horizon for a few more minutes, hoping that she would see the Mustang driving down the road where it curved back toward town just a little bit. But there was nothing. The car was gone. Lance was gone. And she wasn't coming back.
Gwen waved sadly at the horizon, knowing that Lance couldn't see it but hoping she would at least sense it.
"Come back some day," she whispered.
"Ma'am?"
Gwen turned and saw Agent Finney standing in the doorway of the bar. She had one hand cupped over her eyes, shading them against the sun. "Yes?"
"We were thinking about grabbing some lunch. Is there a good place that does take out?"
"Yeah," Gwen said. She pointed up the street. "There's a place called—"
"Actually," Finney interrupted, "I was...kind of hoping you could show me."
Gwen took a moment to register what the agent was saying, and then she smiled. "That would probably be just as easy. Sure." She stuck her hands in the back pocket of her jeans and stepped back onto the sidewalk. Her fingers brushed Lance's belt buckle and she smiled, looked over her shoulder at the dirt road leading out of town, and nodded at Agent Finney. "It's not too far. Maybe we could grab a bite to eat ourselves before we bring the food back for the others."
"I would like that," Finney said.
Gwen wasn't sure where things would go with Agent Finney, wasn't even sure she wanted things to go anywhere, but Lance had opened her eyes, and opened her world. She was walking down the street with a pretty woman who seemed interested in her.
The possibilities were endless.
About the Author
Geonn Cannon was born on the fortieth anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. He writes to get the ideas out of his head so he won't mumble to himself in public (which he already does a little more than is socially acceptable). He currently lives in Yukon, Oklahoma, although his mind is still stuck in Washington state. If you see it wandering around the shoreline, just make sure it's warm and comfortable and leave it be.