Authors: Leigh Ellwood
How easy did that look? Find a girl, get busy in a bar, and go home to a night of unbridled passion and orgasms. Sid had plenty of memories of to savor on cold, lonely nights, romps with willing ladies in the years between high school and Hancock, but she preferred the real thing. When she did get lucky, it happened after slow courtships—no wham bams.
She could use a good hard
bam
tonight.
Perhaps if she swallowed back her fears and came to the Den more often somebody with a thing for petite girls might approach her. As it appeared now, though, everybody seemed paired off for the night.
Except…
The kissy couple slid off the stool in an awkward tango toward the dance floor, revealing a familiar yet angry face. Kit, Tish’s other employee, stabbed her thumbs against her phone screen and shook her head. Either she texted a date who stood her up, or a green video game pig thwarted her attempt at a high score.
Oh, goody!
At first sight of the ginger-haired cutie in the park, skinny in yellow and black plaid pants and a white Tish’s t-shirt, she had hoped to spot a potential playmate. Kit still rocked the pants but now had on a black Eisenhower jacket.
If she was seeing somebody, judging from the look on her face, Sidney guessed it wouldn’t be for much longer.
She grabbed her fresh drink and stood. Time to practice extroverting and find out for certain.
****
Dafuq are you?
demanded Annalise’s text, which came with a not-so-smiley icon.
At the Den for the last twenty minutes, waiting on you.
Where else would a self-respecting lesbian in Southeastern Virginia come on a weekend night for a drink?
Hung up at work?
No, I’m at Rumors. Nickel beer night. Get ur ass over here!
“Rumors? I’m not driving to the fucking beach.” Why would Annalise set foot in there? Yeah, it was a gay bar, but it catered mainly to older men. Kit had gone there once with Annalise to see a drag revue, and the regulars acted coolly towards them. Perhaps if they’d brought along a hairless twink as a chew toy for them to enjoy, they wouldn’t have had to nurse watered-down whiskey sours that took forever for the waiter to bring, or wait an eternity for the pool table to open up.
Like hell was she leaving now, friend or no friend. Annalise’s behavior puzzled her, and before Kit began her next text to inquire about the change of venue she spotted a familiar figure in her peripheral vision.
Well hell.
Question answered.
Cory sidled up to the bar next to her, twining her fingers into a large ball. “Saw your pictures on the Instagram thingy,” the boi called out to her over the music. “I’m sorry I missed that park party today.”
“Oh, it was crazy mobbed. We sold out with two hours to go, but couldn’t leave right afterward. Too many people asking questions and stuff.” Exhaustion had claimed Kit thanks to that event—she almost didn’t make it to the Den, and wanted to stay home and crash. Cory’s presence, however, well compensated for Annalise’s neglect.
“That’s cool.” Cory nodded and waved as the bartender set down a beer bottle. “I have to come by sometime next week. Denise loves y’all’s chocolate popcorn.”
“Denise?” Kit’s heart sank as Cory nodded over toward a corner booth. A lovely femme, dressed to the nines in a red cocktail dress and matching heels, watched them with smoldering interest.
“Met her here last weekend,” Cory said. “We really hit it off.”
Of course they did. Of course a boi with stunning looks and a great job wouldn’t stay unattached long in a bar full of love-hungry ladies. Caught on the one Saturday night Kit elected to take in a movie.
Damn it
! Why hadn’t Annalise said anything about breaking up with Cory?
She bet this Denise didn’t have a problem with public displays of affection, either. Why not? She could see why the woman attracted Cory.
Kit feigned her enthusiasm for Cory’s new relationship and muttered a “Nice.” Why ask the question of her bestie, anyway? She and Annalise were tight, but never in their decade-long friendship did the two have a lover in common. Annalise enjoyed flaunting her many significant others, yet rarely mourned a breakup, let alone announced one. Her Facebook status never changed from
single
. When she ended a courtship, she’d eventually show up somewhere with a new gal on her hip.
It made sense, then, for Annalise to lay low among the geriatric set at Rumors. Once Cory settled in with her latest girl, Kit’s friend could return to the Den triumphant with her new squeeze.
Ob-la-di, ob-la-dah
. Hell, maybe this Barb person she mentioned this morning wouldn’t last the night, and Annalise would come with somebody “two girls from now.”
“Hey, you seen Annalise around?” Cory asked, and the words sent Kit’s heart to the ceiling. She took a deep breath and shook her head. It wasn’t a lie, for she had missed her by minutes at the coffee shop earlier.
“If you do, tell her we’re good. I can guess why she’s not here tonight.” With that, Cory saluted her with the bottle and ambled back to her date.
“Sure thing,” Kit muttered. She couldn’t even hear herself over the music. A part of her wanted to call Cory back and get some details, find out why the couple split. It happened so suddenly, to Kit anyway. As often as she came to the Den to socialize, sometimes she felt so out of the loop.
So much for the lesbian sisterhood, and all that jazz.
Turning back to the bar, she brought out her phone and shot Annalise another text.
Think I’m heading home, take a rain check. Not feeling good.
She powered down the phone to avoid Annalise’s wrath, then reached in her front jeans pocket for her credit card wallet. She sensed a body sliding up beside her, and took a moment to savor the warmth.
“Were the angry pigs winning?” rang a sharp, high voice in her ear, and Kit turned to that same pert nose and smile and bright eyes behind charming geek-girl glasses.
Oh, shit.
She couldn’t decide whether to feel joyful or scared. Had a fleeting fantasy the chance to become real?
The sight of Sidney Campbell nearly caused Kit to forget she’d blown her chance to shimmy through that short window of opportunity with Cory. Sidney’s new outfit definitely soothed the burn—the petite blonde now wore a tight black T-shirt with a distressed image of a Rubik’s Cube, black leggings, and a skirt patterned with many multi-colored squares, not unlike the popular Eighties puzzle toy.
“Nice getup,” Kit said, and twirled her finger downward to guide Sidney to move away. “I have to see the shoes.”
Sidney laughed and offered the full model strut. She whirled around and sashayed along the bar a few steps, wiggling her slim hips, then returned with an exaggerated
en pointe
of one high-top sneaker, which was actually designed to look like a red Uno playing card.
“How come they don’t match?” Couldn’t be too difficult to find checkerboard-patterned shoes.
“The shoes that go with this outfit are worn out. I haven’t had time to make another pair.”
“Really? You don’t buy these?” Kit asked. Baking, sewing…this girl was a one-woman craft bazaar.
Sidney smiled. “What can I say? I’m good with a glue gun and a pastry bag, so long as I don’t get them mixed up.”
“Cool. Uh, what brings you here?” Did Sidney know this was a lesbian bar? The décor didn’t outright advertise it—no rainbow bunting or pink triangle beer coasters. Yeah, framed posters of semi-nude women hung on the walls, but Kit saw those at other places.
“I heard this was the best place to meet women in town. Rather, close to town. We’re kind of in between Dareville and the beach, huh?”
“Yeah. We were thinking of calling it West Vagina.”
Sidney snorted up a sip of her drink. “You have to warn me when you make a joke like that.” She waved over the bartender for some napkins.
She attracted many an appreciative stare from other patrons, too, leaving Kit to think of the right words to get Sidney to a more secluded place to chat.
Luckily, though, Sidney shared her idea. “This music is so damn loud, how do you stand it?” she called out. “Wanna sit out on the patio?”
Kit nodded, and a minute later they found two Adirondack chairs on the concrete, screened-in patio that abutted the alleyway behind the club. Kit had heard, when the building had housed an Italian restaurant, this area served as a smoking lounge for the wait staff. Nobody lit up here now due to new laws, but the folks at the Den tried their best to make the patio look pretty. Fake palms trees wrapped with white twinkle lights adorned each corner, and standing space heaters kept the area comfortable. Though no door separated them from the club interior, Kit noticed that the distance did mute the music’s volume to a low, steady boom.
“What were you drinking? Refill’s on me,” Sidney offered, and flagged down a server making the round to others lounging on the patio.
“You don’t have to do that, I’m good.”
Sidney smirked away Kit’s reluctance. “Please. I’m a working woman now. I can afford it,” she said with a wink. Kit couldn’t argue with that.
“I usually get the Key Lime Pie martini. It’s their signature drink.”
“Ooh, that sounds good. Two, please,” Sidney told the waitress, and Kit watched the silent exchange between them that followed. Well, she counted the seconds the waitress lingered, shuffling backward with her eye on Sidney, before finally retreating to the bar to place their orders. Petite blonde with Eighties fetish proved tonight’s favorite flavor, and Sidney no doubt tempted many an appetite. Kit placed a hand on her growling stomach.
Sidney crossed her legs and turned in her seat, squeezing her arms close to her body as though to preserve warmth. “How does a key lime drink become the specialty of the house here? Rather unusual choice.”
“Not really. The person who owns the Den is from South Florida. She used to run a lesbian bar down there. I guess they’re a dime a dozen, so she came up here to find a captive audience. Before that she taught English at some college, so that’s where the Woolf came from.” Kit crooked her head toward a poster of Virginia Woolf’s profile on the brick wall. Several artistic renditions of the famed author decorated the establishment, in places where one didn’t find the semi-nudes.
“I would love to have had a place like this in Wyoming to go to.”
“Yeah?” Images of gorgeous women in tight blue jeans, bouncing in saddles as the horses they straddled galloped in some wide prairie, filled Kit’s mind. One rarely ran into country girls in town, and suddenly Kit pictured Sidney in a Stetson the color of her geektastic shoes.
Sidney in a cowgirl hat, stripped down to a Rubik-colored thong, straddled over her hips and bucking with one hand in the air…
yee-haw.
“Not a big community there I take it?”
Sidney shook her head. “Why do you think I’m on the other coast?”
“You cold, too?” Sidney asked when Kit folded her arms over her chest. The young woman didn’t need to know how Kit’s nipples tightened in response to her erotically rampant thoughts.
“I’ll be fine. The vodka’s good for warming me up,” she said, right on time as their drinks arrived.
“It’s one fun way,” Sidney agreed. “To many years of happy baking.” They clinked glasses and Kit pondered the toast. How long did Sidney expect to work the front register before hinting her desire for time in the kitchen? The idea that she might push Kit out of the way completely still niggled at her, but Kit really wanted to give Sidney the benefit of the doubt. Anybody behind the service counter would outshine Gloria, and though Kit hated bearing bad news she actually looked forward to swinging that axe.
“Wow, I expected to pucker all night after the first sip, but this is really smooth.” Sidney held up her glass and the opaque green liquid sort of glowed in the forefront of a twinkling fake palm. She licked away tiny crumbs from the graham cracker rim that stuck to her lower lip. “I wouldn’t think there was any liquor at all in here.”
Kit chuckled. “They use real key lime juice, and marshmallow vodka with lots of cream. You have to watch who’s working the bar. Like tonight it’s Marie, and she’s notorious for fixing a drink that doesn’t hit you until much later.”
“She’s amazing. It’s like I’m drinking a pie!” Sidney took a deeper sip, taking in more martini than she probably should in a short time. “Damn, I can’t remember when I last had a good slice of Key Lime pie. I need to make one.”
“Sure,” Kit muttered. Eventually they’d talk shop, but she hoped to keep talk of desserts and Tish’s shop to a minimum now. Eager as Sidney seemed to want to work for Tish, the woman didn’t need to hear any trade secrets just yet. Kit, always slow to turn tipsy, nursed her martini and changed the subject.
“This has to be your first time at the Den, right?”
Sidney lowered her head, suddenly bashful. “I’ve driven past here a thousand times since I started school, but never worked up the nerve to come in until a month ago. Up to that point, the closest I got was parking the car and unlocking the door. It was almost midnight, and I guess I got spooked. Drove straight back to my apartment. This is my first weekend visit. Last two times were Mondays when the place was dead.”
That made sense. She rarely came to the Den on a work night, so she’d have missed seeing Sidney. Kit didn’t like the idea of leaving her car in a sparse lot, either, in the off-chance somebody might recognize it. Tonight, by good fortune, an SUV blocked the view of her compact car from the main road.
“Yeah, early weekdays skew an older crowd, and this place doesn’t really charge up until Thursday. What inspired you to come in tonight?” Whatever the reason, Sidney’s presence lifted Kit’s spirits in the wake of Annalise’s absence.
“I wanted to celebrate getting the job.” Sidney then leaned in very close. “I hoped to find somebody to party with, too,” she added.
Uh…
Kit’s pulse quickened and she fixated on a small line of crumbs lining Sidney’s lower lip. It wouldn’t take much to close the distance and kiss away a taste of pie-flavored alcohol. Sidney’s eyes sparkled, rather glazed with her growing inebriation. That settled it for Kit—she couldn’t take advantage if the other woman had too much to drink.