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“Whatever,” Jules said, refusing to be riled. What Alea chose to do was her own business, and once she settled down she’d probably choose to do something more stable. Like… like be a teacher. Or something like that.
Jules assumed that they’d live in her house for now with Cass and Amelia. But they’d need their own place sooner or later and—
“Earth to Jules,” Josh said, waving a hand in front of her face.
“Mmm? Sorry, what?”
“I was just saying that I was thinking about bringing the karaoke machine back in.”
Jules groaned. “If I have to listen to Mila and Max sing Glory of Love one more time, someone might get hurt.”
“Not to mention your particularly tuneful version of Me and Bobby McGee.”
“Hey, that was one time, and I was a bit tipsy.”
“You were off your head,” said Josh. “Luckily, Mila caught it all on video, so we can relive the moment whenever we choose.” He stuffed the cash bag into his briefcase. “Mind you, you might have a point. Karaoke night does tend to get a bit rougher than I might like. Still, it’s good for business. I’ll give it some thought.”
It wouldn’t be for long, Jules thought. How long could a tour last anyway? Two weeks? Three max? It did rather cut into her time for wooing Alea. Not that that was going so well. One night out and then she’d only seen Alea at the pub when she was working for the last couple of weeks. If she was going to marry the woman she was going to have to try harder.
She’d sort of thought that things would go more smoothly than this, that they’d lay eyes on each other and recognize what was happening and then that would be it. But it looked like the fates needed a bit more help than that, which, obviously, meant asking Alea out on a date.
Jules tied on an apron. She had no problem with that. She wasn’t shy, and she’d picked up good signals, she thought Alea was interested, so she wouldn’t be pounding her head against a wall. It just depended on the right circumstances, that was all.
She had to get Alea alone, and in a mood to talk, and not over-excited like she was when she just got off stage.
Then she’d have the perfect chance. She’d shoot her shot, get a real first date going, and that would be that. Maybe not exactly love at first sight, but close enough.
AS IT TURNED out, the circumstances presented themselves that very evening. Jules was cutting lemon slices when Alea showed up early for her set, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes dark with merriment.
Jules smiled at her, feeling her pulse start to quicken, feeling her skin warm as Alea approached.
“Alright?” she said, finger slipping in lemon juice and the knife narrowly missing it.
“Alright,” said Alea, pulling out a bar stool. “Can I have a coke?”
Jules wiped her hands and poured a large glass of coke for her before leaning forward, elbows on the bar, preparing herself to do what needed to be done. “So, uh, good day?”
“The best,” Alea said. “I’ve been working on a new song.”
“Cool, cool.” Jules cleared her throat. “I’ve just, um, been wondering, just, well, I had a good time when we went out the other night and I thought maybe you and I could go out again some time. Like, um, like—” before she could get the word ‘date’ out, Alea was laughing.
“Hells yeah, I had a great time. Let’s do it. But it’ll have to be after the tour, since we’re leaving tomorrow and all.”
Not exactly how she’d planned things, but Jules figured she could work with what she had. “How long’s this tour going to be then?” she asked, trying to stay casual.
“Six weeks,” Alea said.
Six weeks? Six weeks? She could redecorate her house in six weeks, she could move to America in six weeks, she could—
“Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Alea said.
Jules’s attention shifted. Alea wanted to ask her something? It could only be one thing, surely? She bit back her grin and took a slow breath. “Sure, anything.”
“Well, you can play the piano,” Alea began.
“I can?” asked Jules, confused. Then she saw the look on Alea’s face and said, “I can.” She had a strained memory somewhere of saying that she could.
Fuck.
