Authors: Linda Hill
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Lesbians, #Coming Out, #Family, #Gay, #Love
Here I stammered a bit as I explained. “Billy was specific about whom he wants in Atlanta for the installation. He was quite adamant, actually.”
“He wants you and me to do it,” she said quickly.
“How did you know?” So this wasn’t a surprise after all.
She shrugged. “He’s made it clear to me practically since the day he met you.”
“You talk to him a lot?”
Again she shrugged. “Quite a bit,” she admitted, settling back in her chair and entwining the fingers of both hands together.
“I don’t know why it should surprise you so much that he wants you and me to do it.” She allowed herself a moment of arrogance.
“After all, you can’t blame him for wanting the best.” I watched her cautiously, not trusting her.
“So what are we going to do about it?” I asked carefully.
“What do you want to do about it?” she shot back. “Actually, I’ll admit that I always thought we made a pretty good team,” she added evenly. Now she really had me at a disadvantage. Was she being serious? I couldn’t read her, so I decided to ignore her last comment.
“I’d like the opportunity to see this thing through. But not if it’s going to be uncomfortable. It’s not worth it. We would have to work together day in and day out.” I paused briefly. “And it wouldn’t look good if we can’t manage to get along. In public, at least.” I threw in the last part as a dig.
She cocked her head to one side. “So we’d be forced to behave ourselves. Is that what you’re saying?” I knew she was taunting me, but I wouldn’t give in.
“Something like that.”
She sat back quietly for a moment, watching me evenly.
Appraising me. I returned her gaze without blinking.
“Sounds like a challenge.”
“No, Sara. No challenge,” I sighed, suddenly tired. “I’m just tired of conflict.”
She nodded. “Okay. Billy wants the best, and we’ll give it to him. And I’ll try very hard to behave myself.”
“That’s it?” The resolution had been too easy.
“As far as I’m concerned it is. We both want to be a part of this project, right? What else can we do?”
Uncertain, I stood and walked to the door. “So that’s it?” I asked again. “I can tell Billy and Dennis that we’ll do it?” She laughed, not answering my question directly. “On the road again . . .” she began to sing, her voice raw and twangy.
I held up my hands. “Okay, okay. I’ll put everything together and get back to you.”
She nodded, still singing. I made my exit and sauntered down the hall, replaying the conversation in my mind while trying to figure out what had just transpired. A truce of sorts, I decided.
But I wasn’t trusting her for a minute.
We arrived in Atlanta on the Tuesday after Labor Day, our uneasy truce having managed to stick throughout our preparations for the trip. So far, Sara and I were able to work together in a strictly professional manner, each of us carefully masking any of the personal feelings she might be having.
Sara had told me that I would love the accommodations in Atlanta, but I wasn’t prepared for the plush beauty of our hotel.
The Austin Group was located in Buckhead, a suburb of Atlanta, and the Ritz-Carlton was within easy walking distance of their offices. The company kept several rooms there for visiting clients, and Billy had insisted we use them while we were in town.
It was a gorgeous hotel. Our rooms were near the top floor, on the east corner, overlooking the pool area. I laughed silently to myself when I discovered that a connecting door joined my room to Sara’s. Susan would definitely get a kick out of that, I decided, thinking that under different circumstances, its existence would have been quite amusing.
The first two weeks were filled with meetings as we met with various individuals to develop a strategy for converting the systems. As if the days weren’t long enough, the members of the Austin Group were intent on filling our social calendar as well.
A different cocktail party was planned on our behalf nearly every evening, and our attendance was more than encouraged, it was expected. It didn’t take long before the nightly parties created far more stress for me than did the long days of work.
While Sara was in her element, smiling and gracious with each introduction, I struggled with the endless greetings, chatter, and questions. With each new introduction came the obligatory welcome and the inquiry about our personal lives. I hated those questions and, worse, I hated the way everyone pointed out single males for us to meet.
To Sara’s credit, she came to my rescue whenever possible.
She created a line about me being married to my work that she used on anyone who got too nosy. I never thanked her for it, although perhaps I should have. She probably could have derived some sadistic pleasure from watching me squirm under everyone’s scrutiny.
At the first cocktail party, Billy had swaggered up to me and placed an arm around my shoulders, hugging me to his side. “I’d be willing to bet that you hate the questions about being single as much as I do,” he whispered next to my ear.
I looked up into his huge blue eyes and wrinkled my nose.
“And you would definitely win that bet,” I laughed.
After that, he rarely left my side. He sympathized with my predicament and laughed. “Honey, they gave up asking me when I was going to get married a long time ago.” He confided in me that almost everyone knew he was gay. “They like to pretend they don’t know,” he shrugged.
After nearly three weeks, on a Thursday night, even Billy had begun to lose his good humor. We were seated in the lounge area of the hotel, just the three of us, watching from a distance as a number of coworkers laughed and joked among themselves.
“Well, the good news is that you gals have met just about everybody in the entire corporate office,” Billy drawled as he swirled the ice cubes in his drink with one finger.
“That’s good news?” I asked.
“It means they’re running out of excuses to have another one of these wingdings. With any luck, this will be the last one.” He paused for a moment, looking tired. “Are you two heading back to Boston this weekend?”
Sara nodded. “Tomorrow night around six.” So far, Sara had made it back each weekend.
“What about you, Leslie?”
“Hopefully. We’ll see how it goes tomorrow.” Unfortunately, I had only been back once. It had been a brief visit to pick up more clothes.
Sara clucked her tongue and turned to Billy. “What are we going to do with her, Billy? She’s all work and no play.”
“Yep,” he played along. “I hear she’s married to her work.” Sara cackled. “Who did you hear that from?”
“Besides yourself? Nearly everyone.”
“Gee,” I tossed in. “I’m certainly glad that word is getting around.”
We grew quiet until Sara snapped her fingers and leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in her eye.
“That’s it!” She looked from one of us to the other. “All work and no play!” Billy and I just looked at each other.
“Billy, take us away from here. Surely you know someplace that we can go for fun.” She tapped his knee lightly with her fingertips.
A naughty grin slid across his face. “Honey, I sure do. Let’s do it.”
“It’s ten o’clock,” I pointed out. The last thing I wanted was to get in a car and go out to some bar. At least here I was only moments away from my bed.
“Don’t be a poop,” Sara admonished me and quickly downed her glass of wine.
“But won’t everyone miss us?” I knew I was whining.
We all glanced around, noting that the lounge was definitely thinning. I barely recognized most of the faces.
“No one that counts,” Billy muttered, lifting his tall frame from his chair. He winked and smiled warmly at Sara before extending his hand out for mine. “Come on, darlin’, Sara wants to go out and play.”
I muttered under my breath as I gave him my hand.
Within moments of parking the car, I realized that Billy had brought us to a gay bar. I looked around and noticed same-sex couples moving through the parking lot toward what appeared to be the back door of a club. I held my breath and waited for Sara’s reaction, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or rather, she noticed but chose not to mention it. She seemed oblivious, joking and laughing on Billy’s arm as they walked a few steps ahead of me.
Once inside, it would have been impossible for Sara not to know where we were. The first room held a quiet, room-length bar with stools. A number of drag queens huddled at one end of the bar, their voices loud over the sound of music that pulsated from another room.
Billy led us through that room to another, and then another, waving and greeting women and men alike as he went.
“Popular guy,” Sara noted, lifting her brows. I nodded, barely able to hear her as we got closer to what I assumed would be a dance floor. Finally, we stepped through a doorway and found ourselves in a dimly lit room, littered with tables and chairs that surrounded a dance floor. Four drag queens were out there now, lip-synching to an old Diana Ross and the Supremes hit.
I couldn’t help but smile. It had been far too long since I had been in a place that equaled this one. The dance floor was three steps down from the table area. Above me, I could see a balcony of sorts where other people sat at more tables, looking down over the drag show.
Billy settled us at a table off to one side, slightly away from the direction of the deafening speakers.
“Like it?” Billy called, wiggling his eyebrows for my benefit.
I had a wide grin on my face as I nodded. “I sure do.” Sara replied as well, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
He asked each of us what we’d like to drink and turned to the waiter who had materialized at his side. Billy obviously knew him too. I tried not to look at Sara as I sat nervously, wondering how she was reacting.
“Uh, I assume those are men out there.” She leaned close to my ear so that I could hear her.
I followed the direction of her eyes and watched as the song ended and another began, the queens not missing a beat.
I looked at Sara and nodded.
She went back to watching them, completely absorbed.
“They’re good,” she called, just loud enough for me to hear. Her eyes drifted from the dance floor to all the people who swarmed around us. I looked around, trying to see everyone through her eyes.
Surely she saw the gay couples together, laughing and flirting.
And kissing. She seemed to be handling it okay, so I decided to relax and enjoy myself.
Drinks arrived and the drag show ended. I noted that Sara’s applause was as enthusiastic as my own. The speakers thumped as country music blared and couples moved out to the dance floor.
Soon a number of Billy’s friends began dropping by the table.
He introduced us to every one, and Sara became animated and chatted with them as I took the opportunity to scan the crowd.
We had been there for some time when my eyes fell on a small, dark woman squatting on the steps directly across from us. She was laughing and calling out to a couple who were two-stepping.
People danced in and out of my line of vision, and each time they did, I strained to find her. For a full song I watched her blissfully, until the song ended and couples began shuffling between us. I was searching frantically for her when my eyes finally focused on her again. Relief gave way to panic as I realized that she was staring right back at me, her eyes unwavering as she smiled. I checked myself, uncertain.
Get a grip, Les. She’s probably
staring at Sara.
My stomach fluttered as I watched her smile.
“Leslie. Yoo-hoo, Leslie?” My eyes snapped around to Billy, who was trying to introduce me to yet another of his friends.
We shook hands, and then I tried not to appear too obvious as I swung my head around to find the dark woman again.
My eyes flew to the steps, to the dance floor, to the tables across the way. Too late. I had lost her. Damn. My eyes began to wander, darting from one table to the next as I tried to find her.
“Leslie. Leslie!” I felt Billy tugging at my sleeve, trying to get my attention.
Where is she?
I abandoned my search momentarily and turned to Billy.
My eyes grew wide as I saw her, leaning over just enough so that her face was inches from Billy’s.
Billy’s eyebrows were dancing as he introduced us. “Leslie, Sara, this is Michelle.” He drew her name out slowly.
“Hi,” she smiled, her teeth white against her dark complexion.
She acknowledged Sara with a nod, then extended a hand to me.
“You’re Leslie?” Her eyes moved back to Sara, “and Sara.” We both nodded, although I could only see Sara from the corner of my eye.
“Nice to meet you,” I murmured as I shook her extended hand.
“You aren’t from around here,” she stated, holding on to my hand a bit too long before releasing it. I looked away, then quickly met her dark eyes again.
“They’re from up north, honey,” Billy interjected. “Boston. They’re going to be in town for a few months doing some consulting with my company.’” He leaned closer to her, pretending to whisper. “You’d better work fast, honey. They won’t be here for long.” Again the eyebrows were dancing, this time at Michelle. Her laugh was throaty as she grimaced at him.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend’s rude behavior. Billy has a one-track mind.” She leaned down to whisper in my ear conspiringly. “Don’t worry. We’re not all like him down here.” I laughed, flushing as I felt her breath on my neck, causing goose bumps to threaten. As she tilted her head away from mine, the lights caught her hair. All I could see was black, black crisp hair. Black, black eyes laughing into mine. For a moment, I forgot that Sara was even in the building.
“Join us,” Billy insisted, borrowing a chair from the next table and planting it firmly between him and me. Michelle hesitated only a moment before sliding in to the chair.
I was suddenly claustrophobic as I found myself stuck between the two women, unable to leave the table without getting by one of them. I was very aware of each one and I wasn’t sure which one made me more nervous.
Michelle was hot, no doubt about it. I found myself staring blatantly at her profile while she chatted with Billy. Her hair was indeed as black as I had thought, almost shiny. It was thick and short, with stylish soft waves. Her voice was rather deep, and when she smiled, a small pucker appeared on her left cheek, too high to be considered a dimple. I guessed her to be a few years younger than myself.