Never Say Never by Linda Hill

what I had just said. “Sorry. Nothing personal. It’s an old lesbian credo.”

    She chewed on that mentally, then thought to ask, “Did you ever get to tell her how you felt?”
    “No. So much happened after that. I still talk to her now and then, but I don’t think she ever really knew. Or wanted to know.” I stopped and then added as an afterthought, “She’s married now.” She stared at me for a few moments, her expression serious.
    “I’m sorry, Leslie. You must have been devastated.” I admitted that I probably was. “But that was a long time ago.” I held out my wrists to show her, trying to lighten the conversation. “See? No scars.”
    “Not that I can see, anyway.”
    “Ooh,” I groaned, feeling my walls beginning to rise. “You’re analyzing me again. I’ve gotten over most of that old stuff. I’m sure you’ve got some real horror stories yourself.”
    “A few, maybe.” She smiled at me now, the first time in quite a while. “You’re trying to turn the tables on me again, and I’m not falling for it.” She yawned and stood up to stretch. “Hey, you’ve got a date tomorrow night.”
    “That’s right, I do.” I smiled back. “Now who’s trying to turn the tables?”
    “I was just getting used to having dinner together every night.” She cocked her head to one side and pouted. “What am I going to do without you?”
    My heart skipped a beat. “I’m sure that you’ll manage.” She wandered across the room a couple of times, not meeting my gaze. Finally, she reached for the door to her room. “I think, Leslie Howard, that in the future you should try to schedule your dates so that they are a little more convenient for me.” A guffaw escaped my lips. The nerve of that woman! “You’re absolutely right, Sara,” I mocked, playing her game. “I have my priorities confused.”
    “I’m glad we got that settled,” she teased, grinning. “How about breakfast?” She motioned her head toward her room. “My place. Just for a change of scenery.”
    “Sure.” I laughed, then wished her a good night.

Chapter 9
    We ducked out of work a little early Friday afternoon to go shopping. Sara needed to pick up a gift for her sister’s birthday that weekend, so I decided to join her, hoping that I might be able to find a new outfit to wear that night with Michelle. I didn’t tell her why I wanted the new clothes, but it didn’t take her long to figure it out. Soon she was on a mission, trying to find me just the right ensemble.
    “What kind of look are you going for?” she asked as we entered her favorite clothing store.
    “Something that doesn’t make me look fat.” She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, silly. What kind of look do you want. Fun? Seductive?” She was grinning as she held up a thin, low-cut frilly blouse that wouldn’t have covered either one of my breasts.
    “Very funny.”
    She cackled at my response, quite tickled with herself, and put the blouse back on the rack.
    “I just want some new pants and a shirt,” I told her.
    “Do you think you could narrow that down for me just a bit?” I was beginning to wish that I hadn’t decided to tag along with her.
    “Okay. Nice pants. Casual, not too dressy. And a long-sleeve shirt, I think. Nothing funky or anything. Simple. Something soft.”
    “Soft?” she drew the word out suggestively. I rolled my eyes and watched as her fingers brushed across one shirt after another.
    “Feel this.” She was holding out the sleeve of a bright red shirt. Humoring her, I reached out and slipped my fingers over the fabric.
    “Ooh, soft. Very nice.”
    “Ramie,” she told me, and lifted it off the rack. “I’m not wild about the color, though.”
    “Me either.” She shook her head and put it back, her eyes already scanning the store. With the look of a hunter going in for the kill, she zeroed in on her prey.
    “This is it!” Beaming, she pulled down a cobalt-blue version of the red shirt she’d just shown me and