Page 45 of Semantics

Stella walked along the sidewalk, waving her phone at the ground, probably looking like a weirdo to any cars that might be passing by, but in the dark, her flashlight was the only way she could find what she was looking for. She hoped the passersby would assume she’d dropped her keys or something. Having already been at it for five minutes, she worried that she wouldn’t find it, but just before she’d been about to give up, she saw what she was there for. She smiled, picked it up, turned off her flashlight, and stuffed her phone in her pocket before she headed inside Buddy’s.

She sat down in the same booth she’d been in the night before with Jen and waited. Deciding that she didn’t want to risk being late for Violet again, she’d arrived fifteen minutes early, and even with her delay on the sidewalk, she was still ten minutes ahead of schedule. When the waiter approached, she told him that she was meeting someone, so she’d order when they got here, and she pulled out her phone, tempted to message Violet to let her know that she was there, waiting for her, but to make it sound sexy.

Just as her fingers hovered over the screen, though, the door to the bar opened. Stella looked up, and there she was. Stella’s jaw then nearly dropped to the floor because Violet wasn’t wearing a business suit tonight. Violet Russell had on a tight skirt that couldn’t exactly be called a pencil skirt because it was a little too short to fit that bill, but even if Stella knew the different types of skirts, which she certainly didn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to remember what this one was called because she was too busy focusing on Violet’s long, perfect legs in short red heels. When Stella’s eyes moved up, she found herself drawn to the sleeveless, ribbed mock turtleneck, and she thought back to the previous night when Violet had sucked on her skin so hard, she had left a mark that Stella had nearly forgotten to cover up before going to work that morning.

Stella found herself standing up to greet Violet, which wasn’t something she had planned to do, but her feet pressed hard to the ground, giving her the leverage to use her legs and back to do the rest of the work, and suddenly, she was standing next to the booth, staring at Violet, who was only a foot away.

“Hi,” she spoke at the same time she tried to clear her throat.

She’d had her tongue inside this woman about twenty-four hours ago, and now, she was too nervous to even say hello.

“Hi,” Violet replied.

“You look great,” she said.

“Thanks,” Violet said back.

Stella wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but Violet sat down across from her without making any move toward a kiss, embrace of any kind, or even a high-five. Stella sat down across from her, too, and waved the waiter over.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“Sparkling water,” Violet said without taking her eyes off Stella.

“You don’t want a real drink?” Stella asked.

“I’m driving. Did you drive?”

“No, I didn’t. I…” She didn’t want to appear presumptuous here because Violet’s text had been a drinks invitation and hadn’t alluded to anything more, so she decided to focus on something other than her choosing to take a shared-ride car because of the chance that they might go back to her place again in Violet’s car. “I don’t really like driving. I have a car. I can drive. I just don’t unless I have to.”

“Then, you can get a real drink if you want.”

Stella wasn’t sure what to make of that, but she looked over at their waiter and ordered a beer.

“Can you bring the check when you bring the drinks?” Violet added to the waiter.

“Yeah, sure,” he said.

“You’re going to run out on me again?” Stella asked.

“No, but I thought we should talk.”

“Okay. Well, can I give you something first?”

“Give me–”

“Don’t freak out. I’m not proposing after one night together. It’s a small thing. Literally.”

Stella pulled it out of her pocket and set it on the table between them.

“A button?”

“Your button. Well, one of them. I couldn’t find all of the ones that fell off last night, but I thought one would do.”

“You found my button?” Violet asked with a little laugh as she picked it up off the table.

“Should we go out there and try to find the rest of them? I don’t know how expensive the buttons on that shirt were. Maybe they’re made with some special material, and they cost a hundred dollars apiece or something.”

“No, they’re just buttons,” Violet told her, slipping the button into the side pocket of her purse, which had Stella smirking.