“What can I say? I enjoy having them around me and I certainly don’t mind if people think that gives me an air of mystery.” Zoe shrugged. “Butterflies are amazing. I love how they transform from ugly caterpillars into colourful, elegant creatures. There are over twenty-four thousand different kinds. Twenty-four thousand, can you believe that? They can see ultraviolet colours that humans can’t, and they taste with their feet. Their wings are actually transparent, and the colours come from the tiny scales on their wings that reflect the light. The sun gives them colour.” She regarded Marcy curiously. “But enough about me and my obsession with butterflies, I could wax lyrical all night. How did you end up here?”
“I think I’d rather talk about you, you’re clearly way more interesting,” Marcy said, still processing what Zoe had just told her.
“No, it’s your turn now. Tell me your story.”
“Okay… well, I moved to Spain when I was sixteen, with my parents. My dad owns a construction company, and the hotel business was booming in Benidorm, so they decided to move to the area. They’d been coming here for years anyway and wanted a change in lifestyle. My mum is an artist now, she shares a gallery with a friend in Altea; that’s where my parents live.” Marcy sipped from her beer and stared down at the table, aware of how close they were sitting. Why was she nervous? She was never nervous around women. “In regard to work, as you probably know,” she continued, “I work for my dad as a senior project manager, and I usually handle the smaller overhaul projects.”
“The hotel was a small project?” Zoe asked with a chuckle. “It didn’t seem small to me.”
“Compared to the other projects his company does, it was. You know the huge new apartment complex at the start of the strip?”
“Yeah. Was that your father’s company?” Zoe asked.
“Yes, and we did the new shopping centre in town too.”
“That’s impressive.” Zoe knew that Marcy took a lot of pride in her job, and her enthusiasm when she spoke about it was endearing.
“It’s a fun business to be in.” Marcy pointed at Zoe’s empty glass. “I’ll tell you more if you let me buy you another drink.”
24
Three drinks in and Zoe was having such a good time that she was reluctant to leave. Checking the time on her phone, she sighed when she saw a message from her mother.
“I should go soon. Mum’s been cooking.”
“We could have some food here,” Marcy suggested. “Unless that would upset your mother?” She pointed to the snack platter she was enviously eyeing on their neighbouring table. “Have you eaten here before? That looks really good.”
“Yes, the food is nice.” Zoe hesitated. “I suppose I don’t have to be home for dinner this once. I’m thirty-one after all,” she added with a chuckle. “Mum’s been telling me I should get out more, so I don’t think she’ll mind.”
“She’s not wrong. You’re young, beautiful and single. You should definitely go out more.” Marcy laughed and lifted her hands in defence when Zoe raised a brow at her. “Hey, don’t shoot me. That wasn’t flirting, it was just an honest observation.”
“Right. Of course.” Zoe held her breath when Marcy scooted closer. Her gut told her that Marcy wanted her; it was clear from the way she kept staring at her mouth. It made her nervous and she’d never been so conflicted in her life. Part of her just wanted to have another night with Marcy. It had been a while since she’d been with a woman, and she could really do with some action. But her logic took over and she quickly shook off that idea. Marcy would take off again and have another woman in her bed quicker than she could make an omelette, and even though Zoe had changed exponentially from the girl she was at seventeen, and no stranger to one-night stands herself, she knew it would be a bad move.Why repeat the worst mistake of my life?
“And you? Do you go out much?” She asked, then realised that was a silly question. “Never mind; I bet you scan the promenade every night in case you miss out on any cute, new tourists.”
Marcy gasped and looked at her incredulously. “Hey, was that a dig?”
“No. Just an educated guess,” Zoe playfully shot back at her.
“Well, your educated guess is wrong and I’m certainly not as bad as you think. I’m out twice a week, maybe three if I’m on a good streak.”
“And on those nights, you meet women? For sex?”
“Usually,” Marcy admitted after a long pause. “But I’m single. It’s not a crime.”
“No, it’s not.” Zoe felt bad for mentioning it now. She sounded jealous and out of touch and she didn’t like it one bit. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t judge you.”
“It’s okay, I understand where you’re coming from.” Marcy tilted her head and regarded Zoe. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“I’m single,” Zoe said. “I was dating someone in Hong Kong, but we broke up. No drama; there just wasn’t much…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “I don’t know. Something was missing, I suppose. It was more of a close friendship in the end and that just wasn’t enough for me.”
“No physical chemistry?” Marcy asked, inching closer.
Zoe looked away, afraid to meet her eyes. Sitting here, so close to Marcy while having a private conversation about dating was doing all kinds of things to her body. “Not much,” she said. “Anyway, relationships have never been my priority; I’ve always been more job focused.”
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right woman to fulfil your needs.”
“Or maybe I prefer work over dating,” Zoe argued. “I wouldn’t be where I was if I’d been partying all those years.” She shrugged. “Although you seem to have done all right for yourself.”
