Chapter 2Toni
Toni paused at the bottom of the uneven steps into The Lady’s Hand to take in the sight of several dozen patrons surreptitiously looking at her. She couldn’t complain. She was a stranger here, and a lot of bars catered to regulars.
“Mind yourself,” a woman behind her muttered. “Some of us trying to get a drink.”
“Sorry.” Toni stepped to the side, feeling like a weight slid a little off her shoulders at the distinct pub smell. Hints of smoke and liquor, perfumes and sweat, and it was inside a Scottish lesbian-friendly pub.
Tonight, Toni needed the familiar comfort of a woman-centered space. Her father had managed to reach out from beyond the grave and ruin things. She’d had a great turnout for her talk, and then a steak with colleagues. It should’ve been an excellent day, but then she received news far worse than she’d feared.
Thank your stars you’re already dead, Dad.
If he hadn’t been, Toni would be flying back to the States tonight to plant her fist in his face. Violence wouldn’t solve this problem, but it would make her smile. Her temper was still a work in progress, despite years of effort. Unfortunately, the old grifter was dead, and so he was impossible to punch.
More’s the pity.
After dropping her rain jacket on an empty chair at a table, Toni made her way to the bar. At first glance, the stone-walled basement space felt like any generic bar, but this particular bar had the honor of being a newly opened lesbian bar, which felt remarkably hopeful. In an era where such bars were an endangered species, the opening of anewone was exciting.
The bartender, a forty-something woman with teal hair and generous curves, came over. “Evening. Menu?”
Toni slid a credit card across the weathered wood of the bar and said, “No menu. Talisker, regular,nota special cask.”
A day might come when she could splurge on one of the Talisker top-tier whiskies, but not for the foreseeable future. At least the good whisky was cheaper here than back home. And though she was typically not a huge drinker, tonight Toni needed a metaphorical shot of Novocain.
The bartender’s gaze slid over Toni, and she pretended not to notice. She knew she looked like a million other nondescript women. Brown hair, brown eyes, spent too much time at the gym, and had a chip on her shoulder that she wore with pride. Not quite sporting an undercut, but hair short enough to make a statement. Notextremelymasc but definitely not femme. The labels had changed since Toni came out in high school, but the long and the short of it was that no one looked at her and thought she was anything other than what she was.
She took care of herself, and she made no excuses for her tendency to walk out of most bars with company. Most women weren’t surprised that she didn’t stick around. Toni wasn’t the staying kind, intentionally so, but she made a point not to imply otherwise.
Or leave with anyone wearing a ring.
Or bi-curious.
Or hoping to U-Haul.
Her interests were simple: no strings, no heartbreaks, no home-breaking.
Sex was like any other appetite. She fed it, but it didn’t define her.Tonight, however, she knew she looked tired enough and felt lousy enough that she would likely leave alone. Toni had glimpsed her reflection in the mirrored pillars of the hotel lobby.Bone tired. And soggy from the light rain outside.
Whatever the bartender mistakenly gleaned from Toni’s weary face softened her expression, though. She nodded and grabbed a bottle. “Coming right up.”
Toni exhaled. Talking wasn’t high on her skills list tonight. She just wanted a few drinks to silence the feral rage that rolled under her skin. Every fucking time it felt like things were turned the right direction, reality snuck up and slapped her down.
That man hits from beyond the grave.
This week was intended to be a turning point toward victory. Present at a respected conference. Accept the new job. Build a name… she’d worked toward this new future for a decade already. She’d overcome her roots, or at least left them buried in small town nowhere that she would never again visit—especially since she was going to have to move her mother closer to her.
Toni had her hooks in a tenure track position already. Her career was on solid ground. Her health was good. All of her financial woeshad beensorted out. This week was to be the start of the dream, but the specter of her dead father had to fuck everything up.
“Passing through?” the bartender asked as she slid the overfilled glass to Toni.
“Just here for the weekend.” Toni paused, seeing a generous double shot instead of the single shot she’d expected. She lifted the glass and said, “Thank you.”
“You looked like you could use it.”
“You’re not wrong.” Toni smothered a laugh that was half cry, half rage. Confession wasn’t going to do a thing to plug the gaping money shortage in her life, so she switched gears. “I’m meeting someone. No food, just a drink. Can I order her drink now?”
The bartender nodded, looking a bit less friendly. “What’ll it be?”
Toni ordered her bestie’s drink.
