There was something endearing in the way that neither Lee nor Morgan were strangers to the dress she was presently wearing, and yet no matter how many times Morgan had seen her in it, she always found a way of making her feel as if itwere the first time. “Thank you,” Lee said, gazing at Morgan’s lips as she placed a hand on the inside of her blazer, and, upon doing so, noticing the gold pocket watch sitting delicately within the pocket of her waistcoat, the clasp always sitting between the second and third button, acknowledging the standard etiquette for such an item. “I’d kiss you, but I just put lipstick on. You look incredible yourself.”
Morgan Finch exhaled, stroking Lee’s side ever so slightly with the hand that had latched itself around her waist. “It’s probably for the best,” she observed, retracting the hand now as she flattened down her short brown hair, slicked back with the faintest hint of gel. “If we started kissing, we would likely end up remaining here, specifically, in this bedroom. As tempting as that may be, I have other plans in mind.”
Lee Holmes found herself at The Verdant & Vine, a restaurant approximately a twenty-minute walk from their apartment. Having had the desire to dine here for over a year, she took a seat with about as much enthusiasm as one could muster for such a trivial activity, clapping her hands with excitement much like a trained seal. “I can’tbelievewe’re sitting in quite possibly the nicest restaurant I’ve ever had the luxury of witnessing first-hand.” Stifling back a squeal, Lee grinned vivaciously as the crinkles at the corners of her eyes made themselves known. “And on Labor Day no less? I’m surprised you even managed to get us a table.”
Her girlfriend, now sitting opposite her, did not mirror her enthusiasm at present time, her fingers edging over the cutlery in a sense of awkwardness. “I’m glad you like it, baby, I really am. But, before we order, there’s something I’d like to say,” shesighed, removing her fingers from the cutlery now in order to place her hand upon Lee’s across the table. “I just want you to know that I didn’t take you here because of how wonderful you’ve been towards me this week. This isn’t me trying to buy you. I brought you here because I wanted to. This table has been booked for weeks. I know that we’ve always said it was too expensive, but I see how your face lights up every time we walk past. I’ve been putting money aside for this for months. So please, order whatever you like, I’ve got it covered, okay?”
Morgan’s remarks hovered over the pair of them for what felt like minutes. Truth be told, Lee was grateful to be sitting here in the restaurant of her dreams with the woman of her dreams, but whilst she couldn’t say it aloud, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they shouldn’t be here. Somehow, being financially unable to cover the cost of the meal prior was nowhere near as significant as the notion that they didn’tdeserveto be able to now. However, as she sat across from Morgan, looking directly into her eyes, pondering over the fact that the woman she loved had worn her best outfit, and had also spent the best part of an hour styling her hair, she compartmentalized the feeling as best she could, retracted her hand from Morgan’s, and picked up the menu.
Lee Holmes had gazed over this particular menu on her phone multiple times, and occasionally even at work on her desktop computer, and whilst she already knew exactly what she would be ordering, with a substitute dish prepared should her first choice be unavailable, she wanted to elongate the length of each and every conventional step as much as possible, both prior to savoring the meal, and after it. “Do you have any ideas as to what you might be ordering?” Lee asked, using half of her focus to scan the menu she already had memorized, and the other half to pay attention to Morgan.
Her girlfriend made a curious sound, focusing on the menu with her complete attention unlike Lee. Clearly, she had not been as prepared. “I’m not really sure,” she said, making another audible thinking noise somewhat like a hum, as if the invisible cogs within her mind were sounding off within the restaurant. “I don’t really understand what half of these words mean.”
Placing the menu down now, Lee Holmes instead placed a hand over her mouth and laughed ever so slightly. “Baby, as much as I would love nothing more than to explain each and every item on this menu, I don’t think that the waiting staff would appreciate it too much, especially considering the fact that we only have this table for a limited period of time. Do you trust me enough to let me order for you? After five years together, I think I know you adequately well enough to make such a decision.”
But not adequately enough to know that you murder people prior to last week,Lee thought to herself, attempting to smile her way through her intrusive recollections of that night. Morgan smiled back at her, placing the menu down in defeat. “Fine, just nothing too fancy-schmancy. If the portion size equates to the size of my thumb, I’m not interested.”
Upon speaking to the waitress, a kind woman with blonde, flowing hair, in relation to the size of each meal, Lee Holmes placed her order based upon Morgan’s requirements, opting for the steak, despite it being one of the more expensive options, with roasted potatoes on the side. After doing so, she ordered the pulled-mushroom pasta for herself with ciabatta on the side. The pair had come to the joint conclusion that starters, nor desserts, would not be required, as the money that Morgan had set aside for the meal could sooner be spent on an additional glass of wine each, which seemed far more favorable.
Lee Holmes sipped her not-a-starter-nor-a-dessert Sauvignon Blanc, savoring each sip as it slipped down her throateffortlessly. She wondered at present time how rich people weren’t consistently drunk the majority of the time if they had lavish beverage choices such as this one. Upon noticing how easy the drink went down, Morgan shook her head in disapproval and laughed. “Slow down, baby. That bottle of Sauvignon cost more than half of the furniture in our apartment.”
Laughing with her now, she placed the half-empty wine glass down and poured herself a glass of water from the previously untouched jug the waitress had left upon their table for them. “Sorry,” she said, her tone slightly high-pitched from giggling. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be a good look for either of us if you had to carry me out of here later, anyway.”
“Perhaps not, but I would be more than happy to carry you to bed once we’re through here.”
Morgan Finch spoke around the edge of her wine glass, holding it delicately between her slender fingers, and somehow it made the comment all the more enticing. Lee Holmes found herself jealous of the glass as it touched her lips, and the way her hand snaked around it.
Under the lights of The Verdant & Vine, the space surrounding them occupied by hanging plants, Lee Holmes felt what could only be described as relief rush over her, relishing the fact that despite what had happened Friday night, her body still had the same appetite for Morgan.
Unlike Lee, Morgan had been taking brief sips of her wine between their conversation, which said a lot about Morgan’s self-control and even more about Lee’s. Once again, Lee shook away thoughts of self-control in relation to what her girlfriend had done in their living room and honed back in on the conversation instead. “Keep talking like that and we won’t even make it to the bed,” she said, attempting to mimic Morgan’s own actions by taking a gentle sip of her wine after she spoke. Sheimagined that the action did not have the same allure as she had just witnessed it having.
Lee Holmes was met with a sultry glare that made her feel like discarding the meal entirely if only to find somewhere more private for the pair of them, only to be brought back to reality when the waitress from before placed two steaming plates upon the table, followed by another jug of water. “Is there anything else either of you need?”
Requiring nothing more than a cold shower at present time, Lee smiled and shook her head, observing Morgan do the same. When the waitress had departed, Morgan Finch raised an inquisitive eyebrow towards Lee. “I’m surprised you didn’t order more wine.”
Taking a sensible sip of her water, Lee shrugged as she placed down the glass. “We could always just have one glass of wine each here, and then go to a local store, find the highest percentage of alcohol for the lowest price, and drink from a paper bag on the walk home.”
“A woman after my own heart. Classy as always, I see,” Morgan commented, displaying her pearly white teeth as she retrieved the fork on her left hand-side, and the knife upon her right, preparing to get started on her steak.
When all was said and done, neither of them fancied themselves as particularly classy people, never quite following traditional conventions. Perhaps that was why Lee Holmes had decided to help Morgan the other night as opposed to calling the police, which likely any sane person would have done. “You know it, babe,” she said, tucking into her pulled-mushroom pasta with eager haste. “At least you know I’m not dating you for your money.”
Morgan ceased eating, chuckling into her napkin as she wiped the slightest hint of sauce from her mouth—never a polite eater. “That has never been a concern of mine, my love. I’ve alwaysknown that you were only interested in my rugged good looks, and, well…" she scoffed, taking another bite of her steak. "Who can blame you?”
Lee Holmes moaned as she placed another piece of pasta in her mouth, savoring each and every moment as it travelled down her throat. “Yes, precisely. It’s the complete disregard for eating etiquette that gets me going most,” she observed, placing a hand over her mouth as she spoke, acknowledging etiquette herself.
“You make it so easy to make an innuendo about talking with my mouth full, which, by the way, I’m a pro at, as you know from our frequent intimate moments together.”
Huffing into her fork, Lee rolled her eyes in mock disapproval. “That’s not a flex, Morgan.”
Chapter Eight
Lee Holmes had never considered herself a city dweller, and yet, after four years of cohabiting in her small city apartment with Morgan, she found herself exhibiting an odd sense of comfort as they traipsed along the concrete path, surrounded by dozens of lights, and distant sirens, so long as they weren’t coming for her.
Her hand was wrapped around a cheap bottle of whiskey, which in turn was wrapped around a paper bag. They had received an interesting stare from the cashier upon entering a quaint store in a rather rundown part of town, purchasing the cheapest whiskey, whilst wearing their finest attire. To outsiders, for tonight at least, they looked the part until they didn’t, which was to say, they looked prosperous, wealthy even, until the allure faded away at the bottom of a bottle that sat comfortably inside a paper bag. Taking a large gulp, she felt the warmth of the liquid as it travelled down her throat, heating up her entire body in the process.
A calloused hand found her own—the hand holding the bottle. She felt the roughness of Morgan Finch's palm as the whiskeywas removed from her grip. “This shit isn’t half bad,” Morgan said upon taking a sip, using her other hand to hold Lee’s newly empty one. “Makes you feel like a teenager again, doesn’t it?”
Nodding in agreement, Lee diverted her attention towards the pavement below, thinking back to her childhood and how confined she had felt during it. Drinking out of a bottle on a cold night in New York didn’t make her feel like a teenager because she had never trulybeena teenager. She had spent her entire adolescence focusing on her future, living vicariously through stories she had heard upon cafeteria tables. Now that her future was upon her, she had a relatively average job, a less than average apartment, and a secret that was larger than all of her memories combined.
