Never Say Never (2 page)

I couldn’t help the fondness that I felt for him. In general he was a quiet man, commenting only when asked, trying hard not to show that he was uncomfortable.

I wasn’t nearly so fond of the other man in our troupe. Kenny Johnson was young, blond and, I suppose, gorgeous. Women gushed all over him. A walking ego, he knew everything there was to know about computers and made sure everyone knew it.

I did my best to maintain my professionalism and steer clear of him as much as possible. I didn’t like him much, but I needed him. Which was, more often than not, the way it always was in the corporate world.

The good news was that Sara and I had gravitated together almost instantly. We turned each trip into a special event, working hard, but always managing to have fun along the way. She hated the stales games as much as I did, adored Frank as much as I did, and wasn’t the least bit impressed by anything that Kenny said or did.

I had never been wild about traveling, and the project was truly testing my mettle. But no matter how bad it got, all I had to do was think about how bad it would have been if I had still been living with Nancy, fighting night after night. I hadn’t really dealt with our splitting up yet. Instead, I pushed her from my mind by telling myself that I would deal with it when I returned to Boston.

Two months went by before I heard from Nancy in the form of a letter, asking me to remove the rest of my things from her apartment before she returned from vacation.

It didn’t take long for Susan and me to finish the job, and she was kind enough to stay at my side throughout the weekend. I didn’t unpack many of my things since I didn’t really expect to be staying at her place for long. I figured that I would store my things at Susan’s until the project was over and then find a place of my own.

By early Sunday I was completely moved in and situated.

Susan had purchased a futon for the spare bedroom so that I wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch when I was in town. “Now don’t you get any ideas about bringing any women up here,” Susan teased. “I figure that giving you a narrow bed is the only way to keep you out of trouble.”

“There goes my social life,” I told her with a weak smile. I sat down on the bed and looked up at her, my eyes brimming with unexpected tears. “I screwed up again,” I sniffed.

She plopped down beside me, throwing an arm around my shoulders as she did. “No you didn’t. The only mistake you made was waiting so long to get out.”

“I can’t believe I stayed there so long.”

She waved a hand. “I knew you’d get around to leaving sooner or later. I’m just glad you finally got out. Besides, you’re looking at this all wrong. This is a great opportunity for you. Just think of all the women out there that you can meet.”

“Uh-huh.” I was pouting, refusing to be cheered up. “Where? In all those airport lounges?”

“Yuck,” she grimaced. “Seriously, you should take advantage of all this traveling. Get yourself a gay travel guide and go to some bars. Meet some women.”

“I can’t just walk into some gay bar. You never know what they’re going to be like. And I can’t just go up and talk to a woman.”

“Please. You talk to women every day. Besides, they’ll be falling all over themselves to talk to
you
.” That made me laugh. I always considered myself pretty average looking. On the shorter side with brown hair, cut short so as not to curl too much. Blue eyes. Average build. Not overweight but not exactly skinny either. Average. But Susan always managed to make me feel like a real knockout.

“Okay,” I sniffed. “Maybe I’ll give a try.”

“Good for you!” She clapped me on the back and was thoughtful. “Hey, what about that woman you started working with? What’s her name?”

“Sara?” I was aghast.

“Yeah. What do you think?” Again she grinned wickedly.

“I think you’re crazy.”

“Why?” she asked with mock innocence. “You keep telling me how hot she is.”

I blushed. Had I really told her that? More than once?

“Susan,” I turned to look at her squarely. “Sara is very straight. Rule number one,” I quoted, “never get involved with a straight woman.”

“Who said anything about getting involved?” she laughed. “I’m just talking about having a little fun.” 

I shook my head and laughed in spite of myself. Susan was outrageous.

“Does she know you’re a lesbian?”

Again I was appalled. I shook my head vehemently. “Absolutely not. She thinks I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, Leslie, that’s disgusting. Why does she think that?” Now I was growing uncomfortable. “Oh, come on, you know why. Because I let her think so. Because it’s easier just to let people think I’m straight.” This was a conversation that we, and many of our friends, often had in the past. We had all agreed and disagreed on many levels. There were a few who insisted that we should all be out in the open. That politically it was necessary for us to show that we existed. But the majority of us were only out in various degrees. Some more than others. Some none at all.

While we hated it, we admitted that it was sometimes easier to avoid the truth.

“Yeah. I know what you mean. As liberated as I like to think I am, nobody I work with knows I’m gay,” she admitted. She was quiet for a while, rubbing my back.

“So why don’t you just tell her?”

“Now that sounds like fun!” I laughed. “I tell her I’m a dyke. She flips out and never talks to me again.” I laughed at Susan sarcastically. “You really know how to have a good time.”

“You never know,” she replied in a singsong voice, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “She might just think you’re hot too. Why settle for the fantasy when you can have the real thing?”

“You’re such a pig.” I pushed her away playfully, annoyed.

Not by her suggestiveness, I was amused by that. I was more annoyed with the way she always managed to see right through me. “Besides. Who says I fantasize about her?” She shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me. I know you,” she said simply.

I was growing more annoyed and wanted the conversation to end fast. “Bad idea, Susan. I can assure you that’s not going to happen.”

“Not this week, maybe.” She smirked at me and, anticipating my growl, smoothly changed the subject.

I was late arriving at the airport the next morning. Everyone had already boarded, so I made my way down the aisle alone. My three partners were seated together near the front of the plane.

Sara, flanked on either side by the two larger men, gave me a meaningful stare when they greeted me. I could almost read her look.
Thanks a lot for stranding me alone with these guys,
it said.

I shrugged an apology and threaded my way back a few rows, almost thankful to be sitting alone. I settled into a window seat and tried to read up on the company we would be visiting, but I lost interest immediately. I was feeling unreasonably emotional, chastising myself for feeling so suddenly lost and woebegone.

The flight attendant came and went, bestowing a bagel and coffee on her way. As I munched quietly and stared out the window at the clouds below, I felt an elbow press into mine and tried hard not to pull awtay. With an inward groan, I prayed that Kenny hadn’t decided to chat.

“Hey, I thought for a while there that I was going to get stuck alone with those guys.” Sara’s face was inches from my own.

I mumbled an apology, not quite meeting her eyes. Those lips were frowning.

“You don’t look so hot.”

“Why, thank you. Good morning to you, too,” I snapped, feeling bitchy.

“Ouch.” She stared at me until I met her eyes. “Uh-huh,” she nodded. “You’ve been crying,” she stated.

Was it that obvious? Were my eyes swollen? I looked at her, feeling suddenly vulnerable, and bit my lip.

“Leslie, what’s wrong?” She sounded so sincere that it made me feel worse. I didn’t want to talk to this woman. I didn’t want to be vulnerable with this woman. I foolishly just wanted her to stop being nice to me.

I tried to wave her off, but she wouldn’t give up. “Talk to me. What happened?” She was tugging at me.

“Nothing, really.” I fought hard not to let the tears well up again. “I, uh, I had to move out over the weekend.”

“You and your boyfriend broke up?” She looked genuinely distressed as I scrambled for a reply. “Something like that,” I mumbled.

“Oh, Leslie, I’m so sorry.” She squeezed my upper arm gently.

“I thought you lived with a guy, but I wasn’t sure. You never really talked about him.”

“No, well, you know —” I stuttered, trying to think of something to say. “We haven’t really been getting along. You know?”

“You poor thing. Why didn’t you tell me about him?” she admonished. “What’s his name?”

I looked at her, feeling incredibly nervous and at the same time dangerously close to giggles. It was absurd. She was staring at me, waiting for a reply.
What was the question?

“What?”

“What’s his name?”

Quickly the names flew through my mind.
Nancy... Hmm...

Nick, Ned, Neal, Noel...
I scrambled mentally, but nothing sounded right. I threw up my hands. “What difference does it make now?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t press any further. “It’s over.”

“Good for you!” She fell for it, and I was relieved. “And when you’re ready to meet new people, just let me know. I know a couple of guys that you’d really like.” She was getting excited, leaning forward and closer to me. “We could double date.”

“Double date?” I nearly choked on what was left of my coffee.

“Sure. You probably aren’t ready to meet anyone now. But I’ve been going out with this guy, James, and I would love it if we hooked you up with one of his friends so that we could all go out together. Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Great. Sure.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, or what I was getting myself into. My anxiety level was rising. “But you know it’s probably going to be a while before I start going out again.”

“That’s okay.” She held up a hand for emphasis. “I won’t push. I’ll drop the subject right now.” Good as her word, she sat back and sighed heavily. “Why don’t I get my materials together so we can go over the information before we get there?”

“Okay.”

“Great.” She stood up and leaned down to whisper conspiringly, “This will give me an excuse to get away from Kenny.” I laughed and watched her stroll back up the aisle.

The trip to Chicago turned out to be interesting. Snow began falling the moment we arrived; it was early December, so we should have expected the snowfall. We spent the afternoon in meetings, going over the company’s software in greater detail than the last time we were there. The company’s software had survived the first round of interviews, and now we were taking a much closer look.

The weather began getting treacherous long before we were finished, so we were forced to return to our hotel early. The hotel seemed completely empty when we checked in. Even the lobby and bar were unusually quiet.

We spent the evening laughing and joking with the bartender and waiters. I watched with glee as Sara fended off the advances of two salesman-types that wandered into the bar. She wasn’t budging an inch, and I loved watching her quick wit as she jousted with them. It was obvious to me that she found them distasteful, and she played into that, enjoying my amusement.

Eventually we found ourselves at the pool table, playing “men against the gals,” as Frank put it. While I loved billiards and wanted nothing more than an opportunity to wipe the smirk off Kenny’s face, I hadn’t played in years. Sara, on the other hand, had never played. It wasn’t very pretty as we went down in defeat game after game.

Somewhere along the line Kenny began to slur his words and tried his best to convince Sara to make a small wager with him. He had propped himself up against the pool table and was rubbing chalk on the end of a pool cue when he finally went too far. “C’mon, Sara. If I win, we go to my room. If you win, we go to
your
room!” he bellowed and began to laugh hysterically.

I wanted to choke him. The alcohol wasn’t doing me any favors, and I had to work hard to control myself. As I held myself back, I slid a glance at Frank who was shaking his head and frowning.

When I glanced back, Sara took a sip of her drink and approached Kenny slowly. Her smile glittered as she placed a hand on either side of him on the edge of the pool table and leaned into him seductively. He leaned down just a bit so that she could whisper in his ear.

What is she doing?
For a brief moment, I thought she had lost all of her senses. Surely she wasn’t wasting her time on this egotistical bastard.

The triumphant smile drained from his face as Sara finished what she had to say and stepped away. “I think I’ve had enough pool for one night,” she said aloud, looking first at Frank and then at me. “Care to join me for a cup of coffee before we turn in?” I know my smile was wide. “I’d love to,” I replied, barely able to contain myself as I watched a sneer curling on Kenny’s lip.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass,” Frank chimed. “You two go ahead.” He turned to Kenny and reached out fort the pool cue.

“Time to hit the sack, kid. I think you’ve had enough.” I watched to make sure they had left the lounge before I joined Sara in one of the booths. Two steaming mugs were on the table between us as I sat down.

I whistled low. “He’s such a jerk.” I picked up one of the mugs and placed it to my lips.

“He’s a dick,” she stated flatly.

I choked on my coffee, desperately trying not to spew the beverage all over the table. When I recovered, I looked at her and laughed.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s a dick,” she repeated, straight-faced. “Did I offend you?”

“Absolutely not.” I laughed again. “I’m just not used to hearing women say things like that.”
Straight women, that is
.

She wrapped her hands around her mug and stared into it, her bottom lip tugged down at one corner. “Why does he have to act like that?” she asked. “I hate it when shit like that happens. He is so full of himself that he can’t believe every woman doesn’t want him.” She lifted her eyes to mine. “He’s the jerk. Then when I set him straight, I get the reputation for being a ball-buster.”