For the first time in a long while, I’m speechless. Although we arrived together, there’s something about seeing her from afar that reminds me of the way our eyes met back in Seattle. It wasn’t long after that our lips were introduced to each other.
Unable to focus on anything else—not the case, not the Olympics, not the live jazz or Mae adjusting Lynn’s bow tie for the fourth time. My gaze locks on Basil. Murmurs of conversation vanish as she approaches, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Her wide lipstick grin finds me, and I wonder what she’s thinking about. Her off-shoulder navy- blue satin gown hugs her curves just right. Lips parted, I scan up the thigh slit of her dress, which shows off the tan she’s been working hard to achieve. Her hair is elegantly draped on one side, loose waves teasing the bare parts of her shoulder. She’s beautiful, hips swaying with each heeled step, a confidence in her that I hadn’t noticed before.
“You look gorgeous,” I tell her as if it’s my first time seeing her this evening. Back inside the villa, the words crossed my mind, but I didn’t say them out loud then.
A soft hand rests in my lap after she sits next to me. “Thank you. You don’t clean up too bad yourself.”
Our eyes hold. “Thanks.”
She twists inward a little more. “I’m impressed with your outfit. Not many people can pull off suspenders without looking dorky.” Returning to her original position, she casually points her gaze across from her in Lauren’s direction.
Underneath the table, I caress the top of her fingers with mine as I lean closer and find her ear. “Be nice.”
“Iam. It’s not like I said it to her face.” Her eye twitches when I give her a look. “Fine. I’ll be nice.”
Like clockwork, Victoria seems to sense our conversation about them and flashes a glare. Thankfully, Lynn speaks up before either of them lose their composure.
“Looks like Mae and I aren’t the only ones celebrating tonight.” Lynn’s face lights up, and she squeezes her wife’s hand, then raises her glass of champagne. “Thanks to both of your teams winning earlier today, we will have the fiercest women participating in the championship. I always say friendly competition is one thing that brings people from different backgrounds together. That’s why I launched the Sapphic Olympics. Watching the matches today, I don’t regret it for a second. Cheers to good fun, no matter what happens.” We toast. “I told Mae this year’s tournament would be the best one yet.”
“Certainly appears that way,” Mae says. She directs her attention to Victoria and Lauren. “Perhaps we can start ramping up awareness. I wouldn’t know where to start with social media, and if I left it up to Lynn, all we’d see are pictures of food, boobs, and beer, like this is some type of lesbian sorority.”
“And Quilliam.” Smiling, Lynn lifts her hands in defense at her wife’s raised brow. We all laugh.
“Yes, Mrs. Blakeman,” Lauren says. “We have a meeting with our social media team booked next week. We understand you’re busy. The good news is that you can manage as little or as much of each account as you prefer.”
Mae’s face lights up. “That is lovely to hear.”
Victoria nods. “It’s also our job to protect clients from any potentially poor business queries or bad press, which is why PR can be so crucial.” She glances at me suspiciously, then shifts to face Basil with a devious curl in her lips. “That’d be about as bad as being left at the altar.”
Thankfully, Basil doesn’t leap out her chair and start a WWE match in the middle of this gala.
“The good news is we haven’t had any negative experiences in over twenty years, and with your help, our record will continue,” Mae says. “Okay, no more shop talk. I’m over my ten-minute allotment. I made Lynn a promise.”
Basil is attempting to smile, despite having that streak of red on her neck. She’snothappy.
The music’s tempo slows, sedating the dance floor as couples gently sway to the calming rhythm. Mae stands, her hand intertwined with Lynn’s, and slowly pulls her wife out of the chair.
Lynn laughs, kissing Mae’s fingers, and points at me and Basil. “I’ll go if they go.”
I straighten my back and search for Basil’s eyes. I’m not a fan of dancing, but at this point, I’d do anything to get her and Victoria away from each other. “Let’s go.”
She nods and stands. Relieved to get a break from being in the middle of the feud, I do the same and welcome her fingers pushing through mine. We follow the Blakemans to the dimly lit dance floor. The weight of Basil’s arm wrapping around my shoulder cues me to gently grab her hand and sway.
“Thank you for getting me away. I can’t wait to rub the first-place trophy right in her face.”
“I bet.”
I pull her tighter, and I catch a whiff of the same intoxicating perfume she wore when we first met. Suddenly aware of our closeness, my heart rate jumps. I almost step on her dress, but catch myself. “Sorry.”
She laughs at my little side step dance. “Is that nervousness I sense? How unlike you.” She pulls back slightly. Her dimple peeks out as her cheeks lifts. "I hope you weren't this clumsy when you danced at prom.”
I meet her eyes. “Actually, I didn't go to prom.”
“Not once?”
“Nope. I asked a girl senior year. I had a crush on her for months and I heard she had a thing for me, so I went for it. My mom gave me a great idea for the whole big proposal. I asked when we were walking to school one morning. She declined. She said she ‘didn’t believe in that.’ I didn’t bother asking anyone else.”
Basil frowns. “That sounds like something right out of a horror movie. I’m sorry. Was she out?”
