by Jae
Of course, Annie hadn’t really thought that, but watching the lesbian TV show with its scenes of physical intimacy between women hadn’t left her unaffected. Not that she would ever admit that to Drew. She still had a hard time admitting it to herself. “No.” She frowned, annoyed at how squeaky her voice sounded. “Of course not.”
“Don’t blush.”
Annie rubbed her burning cheeks. How does she know? “I’m not blushing.”
“No, of course not,” Drew repeated Annie’s words.
Annie could imagine the grin on Drew’s face.
“So,” Drew said, “is there a dress code?”
She’s worried about what to wear? There’s a hundred things about Thanksgiving that worry me more. “Not really,” Annie said, “but my father usually dresses pretty formal. He’ll get back from his matinee performance just before we have dinner, so he’ll be in a vest and tie.”
Drew sighed. “That formal, huh?”
“Yes, but you can wear whatever you want,” Annie said. She smoothed her hands over her sweatpants, wondering what she would wear. Should she show up at her parents’ home in her usual slacks and blouse? Or dress differently to reflect her newfound lesbian status? Oh, great, now I’m nervous about what to wear too. “Jake will probably show up wearing jeans, so you don’t need to dress up.”
“Oh, yes, I do. Rule number one of conquering someone’s heart: get her family on your side, even if it means dressing up to impress the parents.”
She’s got some kind of unwritten rulebook? Annie wondered how many hearts Drew had conquered. It doesn’t matter. Yours won’t be one of them. She paused and stared at the TV, again surprised at the thoughts she kept having. “But you’re not really trying to conquer my heart,” she said as matter-of-factly as she could.
Drew was silent for a moment. “Still, you can’t go wrong with rule number one. If I’m not trying to get your parents’ approval, Jake will become suspicious.”
Okay, that’s a sound argument. “All right. If you insist, you can dress up.” Annie tried to imagine what Drew would be wearing to impress her parents, but the only mental picture that came to mind was the faded jeans and gray button-down shirt Drew had worn at the beach. It amazed her that she could still remember what Drew had worn, even after five days. Normally, Annie didn’t pay attention to things like that.
“Yeah, but there’s a little problem,” Drew said. “I’m a vintner, not a conductor or an artist. My idea of dressing up is cargo pants and a polo shirt, and the one silk shirt I owned was ruined when a beautiful woman poured wine over it at a party.”
Annie rubbed her earlobe, which was glowing with the heat of embarrassment. But if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she also felt pleased at hearing Drew call her “beautiful.”
“Can you meet me at the mall tomorrow and help me buy something to wear?” Drew asked.
Suddenly, Drew’s plan didn’t seem like such a sound argument anymore. “Umm. Shopping? For clothes?” Annie wrinkled her nose. “Is that really necessary? Unless it’s for books or computers, I don’t like shopping.”
Drew laughed. “Are you sure you’re not a lesbian?”
“W-why?” The question made something deep inside of Annie quiver, maybe because she had asked herself the same question recently.
“Because most lesbians I know would rather have their toenails pulled out with a rusty pair of pliers than go shopping for clothes.”
Ah. Annie pressed her free hand to her forehead and rubbed as if she could wipe away her reaction to Drew’s question. “There are plenty of straight women who hate shopping too.”
“Apparently,” Drew said. “So, will you come with me? Please, please, please?”
“How can I resist that kind of pathetic pleading?” In fact, Annie didn’t need much convincing to agree to spend time with Drew. Normally, she needed a lot of time to herself, but strangely, the point where Drew’s company became too much hadn’t happened yet.
“You think that’s pathetic?” Drew chuckled. “You should see my wide-eyed puss-in-boots impression.”
“You’re a Shrek fan?” Grinning, Annie looked at the three Shrek DVDs on her shelf.
“But of course.” Drew imitated Antonio Banderas’s Spanish accent.
Annie smiled. She likes Star Trek and animated movies. She’s perfect for me. She paused and tapped her knee. Well, she would be if she were a man. Men were safe. But Drew was throwing her life and her emotions into chaos.
“Why the big sigh?” Drew asked.
Sigh? Oh. Annie pressed her knuckles to her lips. She hadn’t realized she had been sighing. Her mind raced as she sought for a plausible explanation. “I’m just not looking forward to going shopping.”
“I can go on my own if you—”
“No,” Annie said as fast as she could. Spending time with Drew was worth braving the mall. “I’ll go with you. I could also use a new outfit or two, so we can suffer through the shopping torture together. Tomorrow, two o’clock?”
She had planned to go into the office for a while, even though the next day was Saturday, but shopping with Drew had priority. It was just a few more days until Thanksgiving, so this was the last chance to talk about their plan.
“It’s a date,” Drew said.
No, it’s not, Annie wanted to say, more to remind herself than because she thought Drew could misinterpret the situation. She rolled her eyes at herself. Relax. It’s just a figure of speech.
“Annie?” Drew sounded as if she had already repeated the name several times.
God. Annie tapped her forehead with her fist. Get yourself together. “Yes?”
“Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Oh, yeah. My brain feels like it’s about to explode, and I’m suddenly attracted to a woman, but everything’s just peachy.
Drew hesitated for a few moments.
Annie’s breath caught. Does she know me that well already that she can tell I’m lying? The thought was scary and comforting at the same time.
“Okay,” Drew said. “I’ll pick you up on my way to the mall.”
“All right. Good night.”
“Good night. Sleep well.”
Annie knew she wouldn’t. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since spending half the night on Drew’s couch—in her arms. “You too.”
She ended the call and stared at the TV, where the blond actress had been frozen in the middle of running away. Annie sighed. Running away. Doesn’t work, does it? She pressed the off button on the remote control and watched the image fade to black.
* * *
Drew laid the phone on the coffee table and stared at Cab, who occupied the other end of the couch. “What’s going on with Annie?”
Cab lifted his head.
“Whatever it is, I think she’s really going through a tough time.” Drew reached across the couch and scratched Cab’s head until he settled back down. She wasn’t sure if it was just Thanksgiving, although that clearly was a part of what made Annie so worried. Oh, like you aren’t worried? Calling her in a panic, begging her to go shopping with you ... Nope, you’re the picture of cool, calm, and collected.
At least Drew knew what made her so nervous. She wanted to support Annie in her endeavor to finally get the upper hand with Jake, but at the same time, she was worried about crossing the line and giving in to her growing crush on Annie. If that happened, Annie would probably run away screaming, never to be heard from again.
Is that what’s making Annie so jumpy? Does she suspect something? She tried to pinpoint when Annie’s behavior had changed. I think it was after I got sick and we fell asleep on the couch. After that, Annie had seemed distracted whenever they met, as if there was a lot going on beneath that controlled surface.
Hard to tell with her, though. Annie just wasn’t a person who shared her thoughts and feelings easily. When they went shopping, Drew would have to try harder
to find out what was going on with Annie. Whatever it was, she wanted to help—and if she was the cause of Annie’s nervousness, she needed to change her behavior.
Oh, yeah. That should be easy. Just tear open your chest and rip your heart out and voilà, your feelings for Annie won’t be a problem anymore. Sighing, she let her head drop against the backrest of the couch. Piece of cake.
* * *
Annie hadn’t even tried on anything yet, but the hustle and bustle in the busy department store was already getting on her nerves. She shared a commiserating smile with the young man on the bench across from hers. His wife or girlfriend was in the fitting room next to Drew’s. From time to time, his companion called out to him to bring her a dress or a top in a different size or color, and he rushed off to do her bidding.
At least shopping with Drew was more fun than that. No matter whether a pair of pants or a top fit her, nothing seemed to put her in a bad mood.
The door opened, and Drew stepped out of the fitting room. She twirled playfully, showing off her outfit. Then she stopped in front of Annie. “What do you think?”
Annie let her gaze trail up a pair of elegant dark gray slacks that hugged shapely hips and over a white blouse that contrasted nicely with Drew’s tan. The blouse’s fastenings crisscrossed on the front, emphasizing her full breasts. Wow. Annie swallowed against a dry mouth. “Uh ... nice.”
“Really?” Drew tugged on her pant legs. “Are you sure I can wear something like this with my fat thighs?” She said it matter-of-factly, not like a person who felt insecure about herself.
“Fat thighs?” Annie echoed. Her gaze drifted down Drew’s body and took in her legs. Drew’s thighs weren’t the toothpick-thin legs of a model, true, but Annie liked Drew’s sturdier build. The thought made her blush, and she jerked her gaze away from Drew. “You don’t have fat thighs.”
“Oh, no?” Drew slapped her hands against her thighs. “What do you call this?”
“They’re ...” Strong and beautiful. Annie bit her tongue. “... solid?”
“Which is the politically correct term for fat.”
“No, it’s not. I like the way you look.” The last sentence slipped out without Annie’s permission. Her cheeks flamed.
Drew blinked. A broad grin spread over her face. “You do?”
“Yes. I mean ... those pants look good on you.”
A male voice interrupted the awkward silence. “She’s right. The pants look pretty good from over here too.”
When Annie turned, she realized the young man on the bench had overheard their conversation. Great. Can this get any more embarrassing? But when she looked at the man, embarrassment turned to anger.
He was still looking at Drew. His gaze lingered on her breasts. “The top too,” he added with a grin.
Annie took a step forward, blocking Drew from his line of sight. She wanted to deck him and tell him to keep his comments—and his eyes—to himself. Not that he was wrong. The clingy blouse looked good on Drew, but she didn’t like the way the man was ogling Drew, as if she were a piece of meat. “Thanks for sharing your opinion,” she said in a tone that was anything but grateful. She gave him her sternest gaze. “But this is a private conversation.”
The man lifted his brows, leaned back on the bench, and looked back and forth between Annie and Drew. Finally, he grinned. “Ah.”
What’s that supposed to mean? Annie folded her arms.
He lifted his hands, palms out, in a “hands off” gesture.
Oh, no, he thinks Drew and I ...? She shook her head. Why do people keep thinking that?
When Annie continued to glare at him, the man stood, mumbled something about getting another skirt for his wife, and hurried away.
“What was that?” Drew asked, a curious smile curling her lips.
“Just some impolite jerk,” Annie muttered.
Drew waved her hand in the air. “Ah, he was harmless.” She smiled, and the dimples made her outfit appear even more breathtaking. “But thanks for defending my honor.”
“I wasn’t—”
Drew’s hand on her arm made her fall silent. “Every once in a while, it feels good to be the damsel who gets rescued by a brave knight.”
Annie met Drew’s brown eyes. The intensity of Drew’s gaze made something inside her melt. Shaken by the emotions that Drew evoked in her, she nodded once and then turned away. “I think I’ll try on something too.”
* * *
Drew settled down on a bench, glad to get off her feet while she waited for Annie to try on the clothes she had taken into the fitting room.
The young man who had commented on her pants and top walked by and grinned at her.
She grinned back. Unlike Annie, who had seemed embarrassed, she was flattered that he had obviously thought she and Annie were a couple.
But Annie was ready to take the guy’s head off even before he thought we’re a couple. Wonder what set her off? Had the man just pushed one of Annie’s buttons?
The fitting room door opened.
Drew looked up. Annie stepped half out of the fitting room, lifted her arms, and craned her neck to view her reflection in the full-length mirror. “What do you think?”
The cream-colored slacks and pin-striped blouse looked good on Annie—good, but fairly conservative. Drew would have bet that Annie had a dozen similar combinations in her wardrobe already. “It looks good, but why don’t you try on something different?”
Annie’s eyebrows inched toward her hairline. “Something different?”
“Yes,” Drew said. “We want Jake to think that you’re in love. Just imagine it for a moment. If you were in love with me, wouldn’t you try to dress in a way that I might find appealing?”
Annie chewed on her lip. Her gaze flickered up to Drew’s eyes. “So you don’t like the slacks and blouse.”
“I like them. Really.” Drew had never thought she would find conservative business suits sexy, but she did when Annie was wearing them. She also longed to see Annie—figuratively and literally—let her hair down and wear something that brought out her softer, more feminine side. “But this is kind of what you wear every day. If you want to send the message that you’re wearing something sexy for your new lover, then we need something else.”
“Like what?” Annie asked, her expression skeptical, as if she already suspected she wouldn’t like the answer.
“How about a dress? I’ve seen a few that would look great on you.” That was an understatement. Just imagining Annie in that burgundy dress in the front of the store made Drew’s heartbeat pick up.
Annie grimaced. “I don’t wear dresses.”
“Why not? You’ve got the figure for it.” Drew tried to make it sound like an objective compliment, given without a lot of emotion.
“I don’t know.” Annie shrugged. “They’re just not my style. I’d probably look like a scarecrow.”
“Scarecrow?” Drew echoed. Damn, what happened to give her that kind of self-image? She looked deeply into Annie’s eyes to let her know how sincere she was. “Annie, you couldn’t look like a scarecrow if you tried. Anyone with eyes in their head can see how ...” She stopped herself just in time before she told Annie how attractive she found her. “With your long legs, I bet you’d look great in a dress. Why don’t you try one on?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on. Just try it. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to buy it.”
Annie sighed. “All right. If you find me a nice one, I’ll try it. But just one.” She held up her index finger.
Okay. Just one. Make it count. Drew took two steps toward the front of the store; then she stopped and turned. “What size do you wear?”
“No idea,” Annie said. “Last time I wore a dress, I was ten years old. Maybe try a size eight.”
Drew searched until she found the burgundy dress in that size. She carried it back to the fitting room.
The door was closed, and she heard Annie unzip her slacks. The thought of Annie undre
ssing behind the slatted door and the slacks slipping down a pair of slender legs made Drew suck in a breath.
“Drew?” Annie called through the door. “Are you there? Did you find one?”
“Um ... yeah.” Drew’s voice was raspy.
When the door opened an inch, she passed the dress through the tiny gap and into Annie’s waiting hands.
Annie let the door swing closed.
Drew turned her back toward the fitting room. Oh, yeah. Like that’s going to stop you from imagining what’s going on behind that door.
For a few seconds, all she heard was the rustling of fabric. Then Annie mumbled, “That’s why I don’t wear dresses.”
“Everything okay?” Drew called.
“Everything’s fine,” Annie answered. “Just this damn ... God, who invented this zipper?” She grunted as if she were wrestling with a grizzly.
“Um ...” Drew hesitated, but the sounds of the struggle with the zipper continued. Come on. You’re her friend. You can do this. “Do you need some help?”
The muttering and grunting stopped.
Shit. Now she thinks I want to ogle her.
Clothing rustled as if Annie was trying one more time to wrestle the stubborn zipper into submission. Then silence fell, and Annie finally said, “If you wouldn’t mind.”
Taking a deep breath, Drew straightened and opened the fitting room’s door.
Annie stood with her back toward Drew. Her hands held the front of the dress pressed against her chest.
Their gazes met in the mirror.
Drew paused, half in, half outside of the fitting room.
Annie cleared her throat. “D-do you like it?”
“Huh?”
“The dress?”
With Annie holding on to the front of the dress, Drew couldn’t see much of it, but the sight of Annie’s bare arms and shoulders took her breath away. “It looks spectacular.” Her chest felt tight as she stepped closer.
“I don’t know. I think I’ll get a pair of slacks instead.” Annie swept her critical gaze along her reflection in the mirror. “I don’t like how I look in dresses.”
“Nonsense,” Drew said, trying to sound casual. “You look great.” She struggled not to breathe too fast, afraid that Annie could hear. Her hands were steady as she lifted them to the small of Annie’s back, but on the inside, she was trembling. Oh, come on. Don’t act like you’ve never seen a half-dressed woman. Or a naked one, for that matter.