by M. Ullrich
Catherine waited patiently as an eager student folded a piece of paper and tucked it into his back pocket before she tapped on the door frame to Ms. Nguyen’s small faculty office. Catherine bit her lower lip when Linda looked up at the student with her gorgeous dark eyes. She dismissed him.
“I’ll see you in class on Thursday, Peter. Don’t worry about the mix-up with your schedule. We’ll make it work.” Linda stood from behind her desk and led the jittery young man from the tight space.
“Thanks.” His deep voice filled the room before he hurried around Catherine into the hallway.
“Freshman?” Catherine asked with an amused smile. Being intimidated by the faculty and the older students seemed so far behind her now.
“How did you guess?” With a subtle tilt of her head, Linda invited Catherine into her office. She scanned the hallways, a practiced and perfected move, before closing the door.
“We should leave that open,” Catherine said. She might not have been intimidated anymore, but now she was afraid of getting caught.
“Don’t worry about it. As long as we don’t make it a habit, no one will suspect a thing.” Linda stepped closer slowly. Catherine felt like prey, and she tried to lean back against a barren desk with casualness she didn’t have. “Do you not trust me?”
Professor Nguyen made people feel at ease even when she pushed them far outside their comfort zone. As a student, Catherine fell victim every time she’d read one of Catherine’s stories aloud during class. As a lover, every ounce of Catherine’s restraint and common sense would melt away at the feel of Linda’s expert fingertips.
“I don’t know if I trust myself,” Catherine confessed just above a whisper. Her eyes dropped and she watched as Linda flexed her hands before gripping Catherine’s waist.
“What are you afraid you’ll do, Catherine?” Catherine felt the question hit her lips in small puffs of breath.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop…” The tip of Catherine’s nose grazed Linda’s. Her lips were burning with eagerness to taste her lover.
“My next class isn’t for another hour.” Linda kissed Catherine then, fully and deeply.
“I missed you,” Catherine said in a whimper.
“Oh?” Catherine felt Linda’s strong hands snake their way beneath her thin burgundy T-shirt. “Didn’t have any fun back home for spring break?” Catherine’s taut abdomen twitched as Linda fanned her fingers across the muscles.
Catherine supported her weight with her palms flat against the surface of the wooden desk. Her head fell back, her long curls tickling her bare forearms, exposing her neck for Linda’s talented mouth. A year ago, Catherine would’ve been scared by this need, but now it had become a crucial part of her existence.
“I wanted you there with me, oh!” Catherine gasped at Linda’s teeth scraping against her pulse point. “I can’t wait to show you off this summer.” Catherine raised her head and opened her eyes when Linda stopped what she was doing. Linda’s sober expression morphed into something more lecherous. Catherine felt the button of her jeans pop open, Linda’s fingertip skimming along the front of her damp panties.
“I missed you, too, love, especially your taste.”
Catherine whimpered again and all apprehension died at the sudden pressure against her turgid clit. She looked on in awe as her girlfriend lowered her pants and underwear before settling on her knees before her exposed sex. Catherine was sure she saw love and adoration in her eyes.
“Dammit!” Catherine slammed her pen down. Even her pleasant memories were haunted with embarrassment at her own stupidity. How had she managed to judge a person, a situation, so poorly? She’d fallen quickly and powerfully for a woman she barely knew, and all she had in the end was her own tears for solace. Catherine wanted to chalk it up to young adult naïveté, but she had a nagging feeling the past was repeating itself with Imogene.
Imogene. Her name had been on Catherine’s mind every day since they met, separated, and met again. Catherine could no longer deny Imogene had brought a piece of her back to life. All the spontaneity, humor, and liveliness in her life had been gone almost nine years, but Imogene made her feel all those things again. Every day seemed bearable, easy almost, around her. Catherine resigned herself to becoming addicted to that feeling, and she needed a dose of it if she wanted to feel better. She wondered how Cowboy Fran’s had been faring during the most recent snow storm. Taking Vivian up on her brilliant idea, Catherine grabbed her coat and briefcase and powered down her computer on the way out of the office to find out for herself.
Catherine was more than surprised by the number of cars that lined Washington Street, but she was even more shocked by the number of people shopping in Cowboy Fran’s late that afternoon. Apparently people got tired of fighting the weather and instead went on to live their lives normally. She spotted Imogene through the throngs of people. With moist palms and a beating heart, Catherine nervously made her way across the crowded space.
“Hey,” Catherine said, flinching at how deep her voice sounded. Imogene spun around and a wide, brilliant smile spread across her freckled face.
“Hey!” Despite Imogene’s cool exterior, Catherine could tell from her volume Imogene was excited to see her. “This is an unexpected visit.”
“I hope you don’t mind.” Catherine stepped back for a moment to allow a middle-aged woman to pass between them. “I’m not usually one for dropping in unannounced, but I just had to get out of the office for the day.”
“And here you are.” Imogene crossed her arms over her chest and smirked.
“Here I am.” Catherine swallowed hard. She could feel the warmth spread across her cheeks, surely leaving red in its wake.
The two women just stared at each other for a moment, Catherine looked over Imogene’s flawless appearance. In something as simple as a sweater and jeans Imogene was stunning. Her wavy hair fell loosely around her shoulders in the slightly disheveled style Catherine found herself growing quite fond of. Her aquamarine eyes were lined with smoky colors that made them shine a shade brighter. Imogene shifted under Catherine’s intense stare.
“No big meetings for The Suits today?” Imogene chuckled.
“No.” Catherine smiled, shaking her head as she looked down at the floor. What am I doing here and why would Imogene want to spend time with me after the way I stumbled out of her apartment the last time we were together?
“I was beginning to think I scared you away.” She slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and kicked at an imaginary spot on her immaculate hardwood floors. “I ate the pasta, too, I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“You didn’t scare me away,” she said simply, with heartfelt seriousness. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to grab a late lunch.”
“I can’t,” Imogene replied. “As much as I’d love escaping for an hour or two, we’re so busy today that it’d be impossible for me to get away any time before dinner.” Catherine thought she heard a slight inflection at the end of Imogene’s sentence, as if she was timidly asking Catherine if that was an option as well.
“I can wait until then,” Catherine said as more people swarmed around them. She weighed the option of going back to work, but she knew she’d never be able to concentrate. She didn’t want to go home and sit in her empty, lifeless condo. Suddenly an idea hit her. “Need help in the meantime?”
“Excuse me? Seriously?”
Catherine enjoyed the shocked look on Imogene’s face. “Yes, I’m serious. I have time to spare, and it looks like you could use another set of hands. I’m offering you free labor, Miss Harris. It’d be a wise business decision to take it. As your advisor, I’m insisting you do just that.”
“Fine. I’d hate to upset my advisor,” Imogene said with an infectious grin. She looked Catherine up and down quickly and fingered the cuff of her grey sweater. “If you’re going to be a Cowboy Fran employee, this isn’t going to work.” To her right was a rack of silk blend button-up blouses ranging f
rom a mossy green to a vibrant fuchsia. Imogene grabbed one the color of raspberry jam and thrust it toward Catherine’s chest with a salacious smirk.
“I suppose you want me to wear this?”
“You look great in your usual black and white and gray. But if you’re going to work for me, even for a day, you should wear my merchandise.”
“Okay.” Catherine wasn’t about to argue something that made a lot of sense.
“You can use my office to change and hang up your coat.”
Catherine nodded and made her way through patrons and racks of clothing to the office.
Imogene remained frozen in place, but she took time to watch Catherine walk away. She moved her slim hips ever so slightly, and her small, rounded backside left Imogene in a stupor until she heard the door to her office close.
“Do you have these in a size four?” asked a petite woman, startling Imogene. She looked at the print pants the customer held out.
“We do. They should be on the rack.”
“They’re not.”
“I’m sure we didn’t sell them all.” Imogene smiled politely and walked her customer over to the display in question. She sifted through several hangers before finding the correct size. “Here we go.” She handed the pants over and the woman stalked off without a thank you. Before Imogene could dwell on the display of rudeness, a middle-aged gentleman approached her with a frantic expression.
“My wife’s birthday is today, and I’ve been in meetings all day so I haven’t been able to get her a gift.” His eyes were wide with worry. You could’ve shopped a day earlier. Imogene bit her tongue.
“Not to worry.” Imogene pointed to a large table filled with various accessories. “Does she like jewelry?”
“Yeah, I-I think so.” He looked to Imogene again. “Would you be happy if your husband came home with jewelry?”
“I don’t have a husband, but I’d always be happy with jewelry.”
Imogene jumped when Catherine chimed in from behind her. “Earrings are always a safe bet because you can match them to different outfits,” she said. “I’d go with the amber studs by the register. They fit the season well.”
“Thank you!” The customer rushed toward Catherine’s suggestion. Imogene turned and regarded Catherine with a smirk.
“You know fashion?”
“I’ve picked up a thing or two over time.” Imogene was charmed by Catherine’s shy shrug.
“I would’ve never guessed.”
“I’m offended,” Catherine said.
“I’m so sorry!” Imogene gripped Catherine’s forearm to stress her apology “I didn’t—” She stopped talking as soon as Catherine’s lips curled mischievously. “You’re a bit of a jerk.”
“That’s what Alice always tells me.” Catherine stepped back and smoothed a hand down the front of the borrowed blouse. “So?”
“Perfect fit.” Imogene looked at Catherine’s svelte torso, which was now encased in the silky garment. Her appraisal of Catherine’s flat abdomen, perky breasts, and knowing mahogany eyes went beyond a professional assessment, but she wasn’t about to apologize for it.
“And just as I suspected, you look wonderful in color.” Tread carefully, Imogene. The last time you let yourself flirt, she ran away! Back to work. “Shall we?” Imogene cut her inner pep talk short and gestured to the sales floor with her right hand as Catherine stepped toward the crowd. Imogene followed behind her, struggling to keep her mind off her fresh scent. It was going to be a long afternoon.
Much to Imogene’s surprise, the afternoon turned into early evening before she knew it. Working with Catherine not only proved to be easy, but she was quite helpful around the shop. They talked when they had some time to work on the stock between customers.
“You seem more than a little comfortable working around here.” Imogene looked at Catherine across the table of cashmere sweaters they were folding. “I’m willing to bet you’ve done this before.”
“Guilty.” Catherine chuckled. “I worked at the Gap when I was a junior in high school, and then at various other stores in the mall once I was in college. It was a good way to help pay for school and be able to afford something other than ramen noodles for dinner.”
“Then you hardly lived the average college experience,” Imogene quipped. Catherine didn’t respond, so she asked, “Will you tell me more about this hidden affinity you have for fashion?” She grinned when Catherine laughed and rolled her eyes.
“I wouldn’t call it an affinity exactly, but I’ve always put care into how I look and paid close attention to what would look best when paired together. A lot can be said for someone who takes care of their appearance.”
“Absolutely.” Imogene knew she was staring at Catherine dreamily, but she couldn’t censor herself. Fashion talk is sexy.
“What about you, Imogene? Any hidden passions or secret hobbies?”
As they started straightening another garment rack, Imogene’s mind flooded with a hundred different trivial things she wanted to share with Catherine about herself. “I love to dance, anytime and anywhere. I’m pretty sure that’s why my friends stopped inviting me out to bars.” She laughed quietly.
“That bad?”
“I actually have a very good sense of rhythm, thank you very much.” Imogene bumped her shoulder into Catherine’s.
“Then what was their problem?” Catherine asked.
“I’m not exaggerating when I say anywhere. Even if we were at a bar with no dance space and a terrible selection of music, I couldn’t stop myself.”
“That’s something I’d love to see,” Catherine said with a gentle smile, and Imogene blushed.
“If you stick around long enough I’m sure you’ll catch me.”
“I hope so.” Imogene didn’t look away when Catherine spoke and their eyes locked. I hope that means she doesn’t plan on running away this time, Imogene thought as a customer called Catherine away.
Several instances throughout the day, Imogene scolded herself for the territory her mind wandered into. From day one, all she wanted was to get to know Catherine better, and now that she was getting just that, she never wanted the wonder of the experience to stop. She was grateful for the blossoming friendship but alarmed by the desire she felt churning deep within. As Imogene watched Catherine Carter casually smiling and greeting people in her shop, she knew she needed more. She needed this Catherine around her as much as possible, and she wanted to be the reason for her smile.
“Thank God for pizza delivery. We would have never had dinner!” Catherine said in an exasperated tone as she locked the door behind the final customer. “Is it always like that?” She leaned with her back against the cold glass.
“Not really during the week. I would have asked Amanda to come in, but with the snow, I thought I’d be okay with just myself.”
“You’re lucky I came along when I did.”
Imogene bit at the inside of her cheek as her heartbeat sped up. She had been mildly turned on for most of the evening as she worked closely with Catherine, but what had simmered beneath the surface moments before was now starting to boil low in her abdomen. Alone at last! she thought.
“I sure am.” Imogene stood behind the counter as Catherine leaned in close on her elbows.
“You owe me now,” Catherine said.
“Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
The tiny hairs on the nape of Imogene’s neck stood on end at Catherine’s low hum. Catherine cocked her head slightly to the right before she leaned in a bit more. Imogene leaned in as well. Anything you want.
“Vivian, my receptionist, asked for next Thursday off. How would you like to come play secretary for a day?” Imogene’s stomach sank. “You’ll mostly be answering the phone and taking messages, but I’ll also be expecting you to distract me as much as possible between meetings. What do you say?”
“Sounds fun, but I can’t.”
“Come on!” Catherine grabbed Imogene’s hand. “Take one day off
from the boutique to work with me. I’ll take you out after. We’ll go out to a show or just dinner. There’s this amazing dim sum place that just opened not too far from the theater district.” Catherine’s enthusiasm was infectious, but Imogene still felt a churning in the pit of her stomach at the thought of being in the city again.
Imogene once held such love for it. The pace and attitude was infectious, and she felt as if she belonged. But then it betrayed her. Blaming the men responsible for the attacks wasn’t enough—Imogene blamed the streets she once walked proudly, the buildings that provided her shade and refuge from the wind, and every nameless face that crowded each avenue. Each and every tall building would be steel and concrete reminders of September eleventh. She’d feel the pain again and feel the despair that came along with watching hours of news footage, waiting for days to just have her suspicions confirmed, days spent beside her sobbing mother when her father continued to not come home.
“I’m sorry, Catherine.” Her breathing was heavy and labored.
“Okay. No show or dim sum. We could get a couple of dirty water dogs and hang out in the office. I have a pretty fantastic view.”
“No!” Imogene said it so forcefully, she startled herself. She pulled back her clammy hand. “I can’t. Now please, just drop it.” She took a deep breath and excused herself to her office. Catherine hesitated before following silently.
“I’m going to go,” Catherine spoke softly, cautiously. “I just have to change.”
“Don’t. Keep the shirt, it really does look amazing on you.” Imogene’s shame kept her from looking at Catherine.
“Thanks.” Catherine collected her sweater and shrugged on her coat. She paused at the threshold of the office, tapping out a random rhythm with her index finger on the door frame. “Good night, Imogene.”
Chapter Thirteen