Sydney pushed the stack of towels to the side and started on a new one. "I haven't seen it, but it's supposed to be really good. I normally go by myself. I think I told you that the other day, but I've been so busy with work and coming here, I haven't had time to go see it. Is it showing tonight?"
Ally slid her phone out of her back pocket and did a search. "Yeah. Nine o'clock or ten o'clock at the theater downtown." She checked the time before she locked the screen. Four-thirty. She'd leave here by six, and she'd have plenty of time to have dinner and get ready.
What would she even wear? What would Sydney wear? Ally had only ever seen her in pencil skirts, work pants, and blazers. Did she even own casual clothes? Ally pushed all those questions aside. Sydney had said yes.
"Do you want to get dinner somewhere first?" Sydney asked.
Ally stopped what she was doing and met Sydney's eyes. "Yeah. Sure."
"How do you feel about Italian? If you don't mind heading downtown, there's a nice place right around the corner from the theater."
"Yeah. Italian is perfect," Ally said, still not quiet believing that this was a real life conversation that they were having. This is like something she'd daydream about, if she allowed herself to think about Sydney like that, which up until now, she hadn't.
Friends. That's all that Sydney would ever look at her as, and Ally had to tone it down or she'd end up disappointed after tonight.
"Is seven o'clock to early to meet at the restaurant?" Sydney asked. "I was going to leave here when I finish with these which shouldn't take more than ten or fifteen minutes, but if you're staying on longer..."
"No. I was going to leave at five." Ally spent enough time here. She could leave an hour earlier to have enough time to get home and have a shower. "What's the name of the place?" Ally had her phone out again. She wanted to get the exact address.
Sydney came around the table and held out her hand. Ally gave Sydney her phone, expecting her to bring up the restaurant's website or put a pin on the map, but when Sydney handed it back to her, the contacts list was open and there was her name and number. Sydney Dawson.
"Just in case something comes up," Sydney said as she went back to folding towels. "You can text me or call me so I have yours."
"Sure." Why couldn't she say something more intelligent than 'sure?' "I'll do it now." Ally tapped on her name and let it ring. "Okay. You should have it."
"Thanks."
Ally put her phone away and tried to finish up with the bags, but when she was ready to move onto the next one she realized she'd left the socks and toothbrush out and put extra toiletries in instead. She fixed her mistake and moved on to the next one, trying to concentrate on what she was doing, not that it required much thought, but... She was going to the movies with Sydney tonight.
What would Jess say?
Ally put another finished bag on the shelf. I don't care what Jess is going say. She's going to call me out on this crush, and I don't care.
Chapter Seven
For the third time tonight, Sydney wondered what exactly she was doing. Her hand was Ally’s forearm, lightly clutching it in anticipation of the next thing that might jump out across the screen at them. Ally’s jean clad leg brushed against Sydney’s, because somehow, being close to someone made it better. It was that or cover their eyes, and Sydney was happy to see that Ally hadn’t done that.
The few times that Sydney had actually gone to a horror with someone, they’d missed half of it, hidden behind their hands. Clarke was the worst. His screams could have been part of the movie, and the last time they’d gone together, his shrieks had the rest of the audience laughing. Never again, he said, and that was years ago, so Sydney had gotten used to coming to these kinds of movies on her own. She hadn’t minded, but she had to admit that this was much more enjoyable, although she did have to bite her lip the first time Ally’s hand rested on her knee.
It hadn’t been a move. There was nothing flirtatious about it. It was just a reaction to the latest scare, but Sydney couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that tingle. It rippled through her body, all the way to her fingertips. That was the second time tonight she’d asked herself what she was doing.
She knew Ally was gay. She’d seen the rainbow pin on her backpack, the bumper sticker on her car, and there was something about her that pinged Sydney’s gaydar anyway. Well, it was the way that Ally looked at her, and Clarke’s words kept coming back to her, reminding her that she worked too hard, that a younger woman was a good idea.
And here was Ally... Asking her out to the movies. Not properly asking her out though, right?
Sydney lost her train of thought when Ally leaned into her, their shoulders brushing as they both flinched.
The first time she questioned herself was over dinner. Why didn’t she just agree to the movies? Why did she have to ask her to dinner too?
Because you think she’s attractive, thoughtful, kind...
Their hours at the shelter had mostly overlapped, and Sydney lost track of the number of things she’d seen Ally do that seemed beyond normal voluntary duty. Cutting hair on a Sunday seemed like a regular thing. Ally was always spotting the newest people, offering them some advice. She took the time to get to know them, to listen to what was going on in their lives, something Sydney never did.
Sydney didn’t know how old Ally was, but it was definitely a lot younger than her. She was probably in her early thirties, yet she seemed mature, like she had her life together.
The credits rolled across the screen, and the lights slowly came up. Ally was sitting up straight again, and Sydney reached for her bag, her hand sliding away from Ally’s arm. The warmth from Ally’s leg was gone.
“That certainly lived up to the hype,” Ally said as she stood up, stretching her arms over her head, and Sydney couldn’t keep herself from staring at Ally’s midriff. Her black sweater had risen enough to show off her flat stomach, and Sydney could feel the heat creeping up her neck.
Sydney cleared her throat. “It did. I don’t normally scream.”
“I wouldn’t call that a scream.” Ally laughed softly. “A yelp, maybe.”
“You weren’t exactly quiet.” Sydney caught her eye before they left, taking the stairs down to the exit.
“I believe that’s what she said last night.”
Sydney shook her head, a smile on her lips. “Is that right.”
“Sorry. I know it’s immature, but it’s a thing I have with a friend of mine.”
“Jess?”
“No. A bartender at the gay bar by the river.”
“Oh, not The Mill?”
“Yeah.” Ally held open the door for her.
“Thanks.” It took Sydney a minute to adjust to the bright lights of the lobby.
“Do you uh… Do you go there?” Ally asked as they made their way through the crowd.
“Not very often.” Sydney purposely kept her answer short.
She’d enjoyed herself tonight, more than she thought she would, but this was the worst possible time to even think about getting involved with someone. And despite Clarke’s advice, she really couldn’t see any benefit to dating someone so much younger than her.
Sydney thought it’d have the opposite effect on her. Standing next to someone like Ally, with her wavy blond hair and naturally tanned, youthful skin, would just remind her of how much older she was.
“So,” Ally said as they put on their jackets. “I imagine you’re working tomorrow?”
Sydney normally would be working today, even if it was just doing some planning or catching up on paperwork, but she’d taken it easy, getting a few more hours in at the shelter instead.
“You know, I might not,” Sydney heard herself say. “Do you want to get a drink?” Sydney held the door open for her this time, the chilly night air hitting her as soon as they left the theater. “Oh, sorry. I forgot you don’t drink.”
“I can still go to a bar. They have other drinks you know.”
“Right. Sorry.
” Sydney swallowed. What was wrong with her? She never had trouble making conversation.
“I’m not an alcoholic,” Ally said as they started walking. “Just in case that’s what’s bothering you. You’re not going to offend me or anything.”
“No. I didn’t think…” Sydney didn’t know what she was thinking, other than that Ally had lovely sea green eyes. From where they were, the way the streetlight lit up her face, Sydney got lost gazing into them.
“It’s fine. It happens all the time.” Ally slid her hands into her jacket pockets. “I just prefer not to drink. That’s all, so I have no issues being around people drinking or going to bars.”
“So, is that a ‘yes’ then?”
Ally smiled. “Yes.”
Chapter Eight
Ally tried to hide her smile when Sydney suggested coming to The Mill. When she’d asked Sydney if she ever came here, Ally thought she might have offended her. ‘Not very often’ wasn’t exactly the reply she was looking for, but here they were, sitting in a booth along the windows at the front of the bar. They were away from the dance floor but still close to the busy bar area.
Ally knew she shouldn’t have been fishing. The chances of Sydney being gay were slim. She probably just came here with friends, and maybe she suggested this place knowing that Ally would like it.
Sydney sat down across from her, bringing back another non-alcoholic beer for her and a glass of Shiraz for herself. Ally had gotten the first round, letting Sydney choose the seat while she surveyed the bar. Thankfully, from what Ally could see anyway, none of her exes were here tonight. Not that she had that many of them, but the gay scene wasn’t that big, and it wouldn’t be unusual to bump into a few familiar faces on a night out here.
It was Thanksgiving though, which meant that most people were spending the night with their families. Ally still wanted to ask Sydney why she was on her own today, but that was too personal, and they hardly knew each other.
“Thank you,” Ally said, bringing the ice-cold bottle of beer to her lips and taking a swig.
“You’re welcome.”
Sydney’s long-sleeved white top clung to her body, and Ally had struggled all night not to stare at her. This was the first time she’d seen Sydney in jeans, and wow, was it worth the wait. Ally knew she had a weakness for business attire, and everything Sydney normally wore, whether it was a black blazer or a gray skirt, caught her attention, but those jeans. Wow. Maybe, it was seeing her in something so simple, so casual. Ally didn’t know what it was, but she knew she had a problem.
“Oh my God,” Sydney said, leaning forward to rest her arms on the table between them. “Do not listen to anything that man says. Okay?” Sydney pleaded in just above a whisper, her words coming out in a rush.
Ally just nodded, not sure who or what she was talking about.
“Syd!”
Ally turned to see a dark-haired man coming over to their table, his white dress shirt missing a few buttons, revealing his tanned skin and a tribal tattoo on his chest. He slid into the booth beside Sydney without an invitation, snaking an arm around her shoulder.
“Every time I ask you to come here, you say no,” he pouted. “But…” He pointed a finger at her, almost spilling the drink in his other hand. “I see you’ve taken my advice.” He winked dramatically. “Way to go.”
Sydney cleared her throat. “Ally, this is Clarke, my business partner. Clarke this is Ally, a friend of mine from the shelter.”
“Ally,” he said, extending his hand across the table. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” She gave him a quick handshake, her eyes moving between the two of them.
“Don’t worry,” he said, turning his attention back to Sydney. “I won’t ruin your romantic evening. I just came over to say hi and you’re welcome.” And then he was gone.
Sydney exhaled, wiping her palm across her face, her cheeks flushed. Ally watched Clarke make his way over to an older looking gentleman at the bar, kissing him before signalling to the bartender for another round.
“Your business partner?” Ally asked, meeting Sydney’s eyes. She tried not to dwell on what Clarke had said. Your romantic evening.
“Yes. For the last twenty years. I don’t know how I put up with him.” Sydney took a long drink.
“And he thinks we’re on a date?” Ally asked, fiddling with the label on her beer, peeling it away from the glass until she dared herself to make eye contact with Sydney.
“Yes.”
What was it with Sydney’s short answers? Ally needed more of an explanation than that, but Sydney didn’t say anything else, and Ally couldn’t stop her mind from wandering, from hoping that that meant Sydney was gay or bi. There was no other explanation. Her business partner would know Sydney better than most people, and if he thought this was a date, then it at least had the potential to be.
Except, Sydney didn’t think of Ally in that way. That was obvious from the way Sydney acted around her. All the short answers, never revealing too much.
“He means well,” Sydney said a moment later. “He thinks I work too hard.”
“What do you think?”
“I know he’s right, but I love what I do, so I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad thing, and as my business partner, he knows it’s good for him too. We’re both competitive. We both want to finish the year ahead of the other, but Clarke does know how to have fun.”
“Is that his boyfriend?”
“I don’t think so, but that’s certainly his type.”
Ally glanced over towards the bar again, following Sydney’s gaze. “Older?”
“Yeah. He won’t date anyone under fifty-five.”
“That’s specific.”
“He knows what he likes, I guess.”
“And what’s your type?” Ally took another sip, double checking that it was in fact non-alcoholic, and it was. The only explanation for the smile tugging at her lips and the slight boost in confidence must have been Sydney and this new information. She was drunk on the possibility of having a chance with Sydney.
“My type?”
Ally nodded, waiting, wondering if she’d crossed a line again.
“I don’t really have a type.”
“A pattern then?”
Sydney sighed. “No. Well, to be honest, I haven’t really been great at staying in relationships. Inevitably, at some point, work becomes more important, and they want me to change. I never do, and then in a few months, I’m getting dumped.”
Ally took a drink, giving herself a few seconds to come with something to say. She was dying to ask Sydney more. To confirm that she was interested in women, but Ally chickened out.
"So, what advice was Clarke talking about?" she asked instead.
"Hmmm?"
"Clarke said that you took his advice." Ally didn't miss the way Sydney's cheeks darkened.
Sydney ran a hand through her hair, her gaze moving to the windows and the busy sidewalk outside. "He..." She reached for her drink, tracing her fingertip along the rim of the glass. "Clarke thinks I should think about dating a younger woman, and I'm sorry that he thought that's what we were doing here. He's drunk, and when he's like that he has no filter. He's much more tactful during the day."
"And why does he think you need to date someone younger?" Ally asked, somehow keeping her voice level.
"Ugh. I was complaining about getting older when he was talking about having my fiftieth birthday party. I'm forty-five by the way."
"Why was he talking about your fiftieth then?"
"He wanted to have a party now, to celebrate twenty years in business, but I'm so busy right now with work and the shelter that I suggested waiting until we'd been working together for twenty-five years. Then he got a bit carried away and started talking about a joint party for my fiftieth. He knows how much I hate celebrating my birthday, never mind that milestone."
Ally took another drink, still processing what Sydney just said. She was forty-five. Not that Ally minded. This wasn'
t a date after all, but if it was, would Sydney care that she was fifteen years younger than her?
Ally dared herself to meet Sydney's eyes. "And dating someone younger would do what exactly...?"
"That's what I said. He thinks he gives the guys he dates a confidence boost, but I don't need that. Not that I know what I need. Like I said, I'm not great with relationships."
"I think you need someone who will let you work, since that's what you love, instead of trying to get you away from it."
Sydney stared at her, and Ally was the one with flushed cheeks now. Maybe she shouldn't have said that, but Sydney was looking back at her with a half-smile. At least, Ally hadn't offended her.
"I think," Sydney said, finishing what was left in her glass, "That the right woman would make me want to work less. I've never met anyone who even tempted me to take time off, to come home early, and that has nothing to do with age. Clark was... Clarke was just being Clarke."
Ally swallowed. She had no idea what to make of all this. Sydney was sitting across from her in a gay bar, and she wasn't straight, but Ally still didn't think Sydney was interested in her. She didn't know if it was her age or because they worked together at the shelter, but Sydney wasn’t really giving her any reason to hope.
"Do you want another drink?" Sydney asked, taking her away from her thoughts.
"Yeah. Sure. It's my round though." Ally pushed herself out of the booth, walking towards the bar in a daze. This was not how she thought tonight was going to go. Not that she was complaining. It was just a surprise. She still couldn't believe Sydney had agreed to go to the movies with her, never mind all this.
Ally rested her arms on the bar, replaying their conversation while she waited to get the bartender's attention. Part of her wished she was gutsy enough to say something, to let Sydney know that she was interested, but she knew there was no point. They were from two different worlds.
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