“I told her we weren’ttogethertogether.”
“Youtoldher? How the hell could you have told her something? You’re sitting right here. You haven’t moved.”
“Can’t explain now. Shut up,” she said and looked up at the woman who was definitely how Zara had described her: tall, dark, and very handsome.
CHAPTER 4
Zara
Zara looked up, following Arwen’s gaze, and saw the woman she’d barely noticed when she’d turned around.
“Hello,” the woman said with a deeper voice than Zara expected from the tall, lean frame. “I wasn’t sure what your friend would want.” She set a glass in front of Arwen. “But I can get her something, too.”
“Oh, I…” Arwen mumbled.
Zara’s best friend of ten years hadn’t ever been all that lucky in love. That was mostly because Arwen had always cared more about the environmental causes that she championed than finding someone to be with for the long term. Zara had watched her attempt to date time and time again, but it rarely turned into anything serious. In the past five years, Arwen had had one girlfriend, and that had only lasted six months and had been three years ago. When Arwen had shown up at Zara’s apartment in tears because she had been dumped, Zara had held her. She’d told her that everything would be all right and that Arwen would find the woman who was right for her.
It was that night, after Arwen had left to go home, that Zara had realized it: she was in love with her best friend, and maybe shehadbeen since the moment they’d met. That had been when Arwen had joined the firm as a new lawyer, and Zara had been assigned to be her paralegal. Arwen was four years younger thanher, and she was beautiful, kind, determined, and could be funny even when she didn’t intend to be. Back then, Zara had worked with multiple attorneys, but once Arwen had moved up a little, they had assigned Zara to her alone, and things had gotten worse for Zara then because that meant spending more time working together. Every day since, Zara had thought about telling Arwen. Every day, she’d thought about saying that she was in love with her, but she’d talk herself out of that and think that asking Arwen out on a date first would be the best place to start. She didn’t need to put that kind of pressure on Arwen by sharing her deep feelings for her right away.
Earlier that day, right after Arwen had returned from her lunch, feeling victorious for what she had gotten out of that high-powered asshole attorney, Zara had wanted to ask her then. Instead, she had suggested drinks to celebrate and mentioned that she had something to talk to Arwen about specifically to not allow herself an out. Yes, she could still make something up, but she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to finally be honest. It was time.
Unfortunately for her, the moment she was finally ready to ask Arwen if they could take their relationship to a new place, the only woman she’d ever seen walk up to Arwen had appeared, and Arwen was staring ather.
“Oh, you… don’t have to buy me a drink,” Arwen added.
The woman glanced over at Zara and asked, “What can I get for you?”
“We haven’t ordered yet,” Zara replied.
“Yes, and I’d like to buy both of you a drink, if I may,” the woman said.
She stood there, in a sleek pair of black slacks that sort of shimmered and a suit jacket with a pinstripe button-down under it, and Zara thought she saw actual suspenders under the jacket,which she hadn’t seen a woman wear in years outside of a TV show.
“She drinks wine,” Arwen spoke up.
“Red or white?” the woman asked.
“Red,” Zara answered without thinking.
“Any particular kind?”
“I’m not picky,” she said.
“Very well,” the woman replied and turned to go back to the bar.
“Oh, my God!” Arwen whisper-yelled to her when the woman turned around. “She’s even more gorgeous up close.”
“Yeah…” Zara uttered, wind taken out of her sails. “Is she your type, though? She’s pretty butch.”
“I don’t have a type,” Arwen replied.
“You’ve only ever dated femmes,” Zara noted, looking down at the skirt she was wearing and thinking about the red lipstick she’d applied in the car on the way over here.
“She’s coming back over,” Arwen said softly, ignoring her comment.
Zara turned and saw that the stranger was, indeed, walking back over to their booth, having procured a glass of wine faster than Zara had ever seen anyone do in a packed bar.
“Here you are,” the woman said to her and passed Zara the glass. “I chose an older vintage they have here. I hope that’s all right.”
