called out to her.
She didn’t stop, turn or make any indication that she heard
me. She just kept barreling right on to the employee door and shoved it open.
I finally caught up to her in the parking lot just when she
reached her car. I closed my hand around her arm and tugged until she faced me.
“What?” she growled, avoiding my gaze.
“I’m sorry, Mel. Real sorry. I never meant for any of this
to happen.” Emotions bombarded me, regret, sorrow, anger, panic that I was
losing her before I’d even had her. And oddly enough, elation that I got this
opportunity to stand this close to her, to smell her perfume, to see her one
last time and etch her beautiful face in my mind.
She readjusted her briefcase strap on her shoulder and
cleared her throat. Her breath came out in a white cloud of fury and disgust.
“Yeah, well me too, I guess.”
Flakes of snow fell on her eyelashes and with the
streetlamps slanting over her eyes, it softened her irises so they glittered
like gold ornaments on a Christmas tree. Her cheeks and lips were pink, though
I didn’t know if it was from anger, the cold or makeup. I thought back on that
intimate moment when she’d painted my face before the contest. It brought a
flood of desire to my lower belly, but I could tell by her aloofness that she
wasn’t experiencing the same thing. No, it wasn’t exactly the right time to
explore this drug in my veins further.
“Could you ¼ Would
you come have coffee with me somewhere?”
She shook her head.
“A shot of tequila?” I asked, not liking the pathetic,
desperate tone in my voice.
She continued to avoid my gaze, yet when she clamped her
lower lip between her teeth in indecision, hope assailed me. It didn’t last
long, though. My hopes were dashed when she tugged her arm from my hold, pulled
open her car door and climbed in.
As she started the engine and leaned out to grab the door
handle, she said, “No thanks. I need to go home and work on my résumé. And
start packing since no hotels within a hundred miles of here will hire me after
seeing that report.”
I folded my arms and stepped back. Her words weighed heavy
on my heart because it was my fault she was forced to redo her résumé and
because it indicated she’d be moving.
“Melanie, please. I’m sorry, so sorry. Please don’t leave.
Please, can we just talk this over and figure out a way to—”
“Goodbye, Leslee.” She slammed the door and drove away,
tires crunching on snow.
I stood there shivering, watching until her car turned the
corner and disappeared from view. God, how my chest hurt. I swallowed a lump of
emotion and swiped at the tears that spilled over my cheeks. Damn it, I should never
have gotten involved with a hetero woman. It always spelled disaster for a true
lesbian.
I punched the unlock button on my key ring, climbed in my
car and started the engine. But I couldn’t stop myself from falling over the
steering wheel and sobbing like a wretched, lovesick teen.
Because I knew I would take her back in a second, hetero or
not.
Chapter Seven
Melanie: The Truth Comes Out of the Closet
It was early in the morning one day after nearly three weeks
had passed. I still couldn’t find a job and I had no idea what I was going to
do. Every hotel I applied to either ignored my application or verified, “Aren’t
you that woman who was on the news dirty dancing in that lesbian bar?”
The vacation pay I’d accrued was enough to cover my expenses
for now, but it wouldn’t last forever. I contemplated cashing in the modest
trust fund my father had willed to me, but I needed to verify if I’d take a tax
hit, which I couldn’t afford. Besides, I’d always sworn that I would only use
it for an investment, not drain it for day-to-day expenses.
I widened my circle and sent out applications to hotels in
cities in other states. Chicago, St. Louis, Memphis, Denver and even Tampa and
Dallas. Why not? I had nothing left here. My father had passed away
She didn’t stop, turn or make any indication that she heard
me. She just kept barreling right on to the employee door and shoved it open.
I finally caught up to her in the parking lot just when she
reached her car. I closed my hand around her arm and tugged until she faced me.
“What?” she growled, avoiding my gaze.
“I’m sorry, Mel. Real sorry. I never meant for any of this
to happen.” Emotions bombarded me, regret, sorrow, anger, panic that I was
losing her before I’d even had her. And oddly enough, elation that I got this
opportunity to stand this close to her, to smell her perfume, to see her one
last time and etch her beautiful face in my mind.
She readjusted her briefcase strap on her shoulder and
cleared her throat. Her breath came out in a white cloud of fury and disgust.
“Yeah, well me too, I guess.”
Flakes of snow fell on her eyelashes and with the
streetlamps slanting over her eyes, it softened her irises so they glittered
like gold ornaments on a Christmas tree. Her cheeks and lips were pink, though
I didn’t know if it was from anger, the cold or makeup. I thought back on that
intimate moment when she’d painted my face before the contest. It brought a
flood of desire to my lower belly, but I could tell by her aloofness that she
wasn’t experiencing the same thing. No, it wasn’t exactly the right time to
explore this drug in my veins further.
“Could you ¼ Would
you come have coffee with me somewhere?”
She shook her head.
“A shot of tequila?” I asked, not liking the pathetic,
desperate tone in my voice.
She continued to avoid my gaze, yet when she clamped her
lower lip between her teeth in indecision, hope assailed me. It didn’t last
long, though. My hopes were dashed when she tugged her arm from my hold, pulled
open her car door and climbed in.
As she started the engine and leaned out to grab the door
handle, she said, “No thanks. I need to go home and work on my résumé. And
start packing since no hotels within a hundred miles of here will hire me after
seeing that report.”
I folded my arms and stepped back. Her words weighed heavy
on my heart because it was my fault she was forced to redo her résumé and
because it indicated she’d be moving.
“Melanie, please. I’m sorry, so sorry. Please don’t leave.
Please, can we just talk this over and figure out a way to—”
“Goodbye, Leslee.” She slammed the door and drove away,
tires crunching on snow.
I stood there shivering, watching until her car turned the
corner and disappeared from view. God, how my chest hurt. I swallowed a lump of
emotion and swiped at the tears that spilled over my cheeks. Damn it, I should never
have gotten involved with a hetero woman. It always spelled disaster for a true
lesbian.
I punched the unlock button on my key ring, climbed in my
car and started the engine. But I couldn’t stop myself from falling over the
steering wheel and sobbing like a wretched, lovesick teen.
Because I knew I would take her back in a second, hetero or
not.
Chapter Seven
Melanie: The Truth Comes Out of the Closet
It was early in the morning one day after nearly three weeks
had passed. I still couldn’t find a job and I had no idea what I was going to
do. Every hotel I applied to either ignored my application or verified, “Aren’t
you that woman who was on the news dirty dancing in that lesbian bar?”
The vacation pay I’d accrued was enough to cover my expenses
for now, but it wouldn’t last forever. I contemplated cashing in the modest
trust fund my father had willed to me, but I needed to verify if I’d take a tax
hit, which I couldn’t afford. Besides, I’d always sworn that I would only use
it for an investment, not drain it for day-to-day expenses.
I widened my circle and sent out applications to hotels in
cities in other states. Chicago, St. Louis, Memphis, Denver and even Tampa and
Dallas. Why not? I had nothing left here. My father had passed away
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