Little Miss and the Law by Loki Renard
Authors: Loki Renard
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Gay & Lesbian, Genre Fiction, Lesbian, Lesbian Romance
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Chapter One
Did she know how much she looked like a little girl when she pouted like that? Mackenzie thought probably not as she watched the woman rifling through her handbag crossly. She was wearing a stiff, starched white shirt with a tie that made her look somewhere between the school girl she most definitely wasn't, and the executive Mackenzie guessed she probably was.
"Dammit!" the woman swore under her breath. It was a voluminous bag. Maybe it held some cash, maybe it didn't. An expedition lead by Sir Edmund Hilary may very well not have been able to confirm or deny, so full was it of other things.
The bored barista, all piercings and bust and brightly colored falls, looked unconcerned. "It's $5.95, lady," she reiterated with a snap of gum between her teeth.
"$5.95? I remember when a dollar got you a coffee and a muffin," the harassed businesswoman responded, stopping midway through her search to frown at the barista.
"Yeah, well, this ain't the stone age anymore, lady," the wench replied with the arrogance of callow youth.
The woman glared at her, and from across the cafe, Mackenzie joined in her glare. Really, the little upstarts hired in this place were getting entirely out of hand. Standing up fluidly, she brushed down her sleek black pantsuit and drifted across to the counter. "Here, allow me," she said, depositing a ten dollar note on the counter.
The businesswoman looked flustered, confused, slightly angry as she looked up at Mackenzie with wide hazel eyes. "Thank you, that's so kind, you didn't have to..." she said gratefully.
"I wanted to," Mackenzie smiled her broad smile, the one that made people fall over themselves to please her just to bask in its warmth. She leaned against the counter casually, one hand on her hip, the other resting atop the perspex shield.
"I'm Mackenzie," she introduced herself.
"Stephanie, Stephanie Morris," the other woman stammered.
The barista was back, tossing change on the counter as if it was infected with polio, her mascara rimmed eyes glancing between the two of them as she made a disgusted sound in her throat. "Sheesh, get a room," she muttered.
"Get back to work..." Mackenzie read the little badge the barrista wore, " Taz, before I have words with Brian." The owner of the cafe was a friend of hers, and whilst she understood his weakness and preference for teens with attitudes, occasionally they got ahead of themselves.
The barrista rolled her eyes, but walked away smartly.
"Thank you. She was really starting to get on my nerves. You must let me return the favor some time," Stephanie smiled. She had a cute smile, Mackenzie noted.
"You'd like me to let you give a customer service girl a hard time on my behalf?" Mackenzie drawled, letting the Australian accent she'd almost gotten rid of entirely show through here and there in the pronunciation of her vowels, or, as she would have said, prununceeation.
"No!" Stephanie giggled at the thought. "You must let me buy you a coffee." She swatted playfully at Mackenzie's arm as she spoke, like a kitten batting at a string.
Mackenzie smiled. Stephanie was cute when she wasn't scowling. Oh, she pulled off the 'mature businesswoman' look quite successfully, but underneath that super short bob was a light, playful spirit, the sort Mackenzie had always found so alluring.
"Give me a call sometime." Mackenzie slipped Stephanie a business card, matte black, embossed, expensive. Stephanie looked down at it and laughed.
"Mackenzie and Associates? Do you always go by your last name?"
Mackenzie smiled a slow smile. "Yes, it helps keep people in their place if they're not allowed the benefit of over familiarity."
Many people would have snorted in disdain at that sort of attitude. Others would have found it perhaps a little eccentric. Stephanie, on the other hand, shivered slightly and an almost imperceptible blush rose to her cheeks. "Oh," she said
Did she know how much she looked like a little girl when she pouted like that? Mackenzie thought probably not as she watched the woman rifling through her handbag crossly. She was wearing a stiff, starched white shirt with a tie that made her look somewhere between the school girl she most definitely wasn't, and the executive Mackenzie guessed she probably was.
"Dammit!" the woman swore under her breath. It was a voluminous bag. Maybe it held some cash, maybe it didn't. An expedition lead by Sir Edmund Hilary may very well not have been able to confirm or deny, so full was it of other things.
The bored barista, all piercings and bust and brightly colored falls, looked unconcerned. "It's $5.95, lady," she reiterated with a snap of gum between her teeth.
"$5.95? I remember when a dollar got you a coffee and a muffin," the harassed businesswoman responded, stopping midway through her search to frown at the barista.
"Yeah, well, this ain't the stone age anymore, lady," the wench replied with the arrogance of callow youth.
The woman glared at her, and from across the cafe, Mackenzie joined in her glare. Really, the little upstarts hired in this place were getting entirely out of hand. Standing up fluidly, she brushed down her sleek black pantsuit and drifted across to the counter. "Here, allow me," she said, depositing a ten dollar note on the counter.
The businesswoman looked flustered, confused, slightly angry as she looked up at Mackenzie with wide hazel eyes. "Thank you, that's so kind, you didn't have to..." she said gratefully.
"I wanted to," Mackenzie smiled her broad smile, the one that made people fall over themselves to please her just to bask in its warmth. She leaned against the counter casually, one hand on her hip, the other resting atop the perspex shield.
"I'm Mackenzie," she introduced herself.
"Stephanie, Stephanie Morris," the other woman stammered.
The barista was back, tossing change on the counter as if it was infected with polio, her mascara rimmed eyes glancing between the two of them as she made a disgusted sound in her throat. "Sheesh, get a room," she muttered.
"Get back to work..." Mackenzie read the little badge the barrista wore, " Taz, before I have words with Brian." The owner of the cafe was a friend of hers, and whilst she understood his weakness and preference for teens with attitudes, occasionally they got ahead of themselves.
The barrista rolled her eyes, but walked away smartly.
"Thank you. She was really starting to get on my nerves. You must let me return the favor some time," Stephanie smiled. She had a cute smile, Mackenzie noted.
"You'd like me to let you give a customer service girl a hard time on my behalf?" Mackenzie drawled, letting the Australian accent she'd almost gotten rid of entirely show through here and there in the pronunciation of her vowels, or, as she would have said, prununceeation.
"No!" Stephanie giggled at the thought. "You must let me buy you a coffee." She swatted playfully at Mackenzie's arm as she spoke, like a kitten batting at a string.
Mackenzie smiled. Stephanie was cute when she wasn't scowling. Oh, she pulled off the 'mature businesswoman' look quite successfully, but underneath that super short bob was a light, playful spirit, the sort Mackenzie had always found so alluring.
"Give me a call sometime." Mackenzie slipped Stephanie a business card, matte black, embossed, expensive. Stephanie looked down at it and laughed.
"Mackenzie and Associates? Do you always go by your last name?"
Mackenzie smiled a slow smile. "Yes, it helps keep people in their place if they're not allowed the benefit of over familiarity."
Many people would have snorted in disdain at that sort of attitude. Others would have found it perhaps a little eccentric. Stephanie, on the other hand, shivered slightly and an almost imperceptible blush rose to her cheeks. "Oh," she said
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