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“Rather not say,” Alex deflected.
Gael leaned across the table, a move that conveyed sympathy and, not coincidentally, revealed a strategic amount of cleavage. “You can tell me.”
Alex held her gaze. She took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, and said, “I want to open a pet grooming place. With a mobile van for house calls.”
Gael’s face lit up. “That is so cool! I have two cats, you know. Would you do me for free?”
Alex sat, mouth agape, fork halfway to her mouth. “Phrasing?”
Gael blanched and avoided eye contact. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean. . .”
“Don’t apologize. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Alex described how she’d written a business plan, was working toward her NGDAA certification, and was scouting for locations.
“All while working two jobs. You’re Wonder Woman,” Gael said. “When you open, promise you won’t go with some cutesy pun name. No Laundromutt or Bark Avenue.”
“Seriously? Is there anything about me that says cutesy?”
Gael took the opportunity to survey the woman sitting across from her. Angular features, slim frame, kohl-lined eyes suggestive of an Egyptian goddess. Alex wore a thrift store suit jacket, black with gold pinstripes, over her crisp white tee.
“No,” whispered Gael. “Just hot.”
Alex returned the stare.
“Let’s get the check,” she said. “It’s time we were elsewhere.”
Chapter Three
They sat together against the headboard.
“You’re nervous,” Alex said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah,” said Gael. “First time since transition. Have you been with a trans woman before?”
Alex shook her head. “You said at the restaurant you felt safe with me. You still feel that way?”
Gael nodded.
“Then here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go slow. Tonight will be about learning.”
Gael wore the crestfallen expression of a child told no cookies before dinner. “But kissing’s my favorite part. Can there be kissing?”
“This isn’t a game,” Alex chided gently. “It can be a one-time thing, or we can look down the road. Time’ll tell. But honesty and trust have to be at the center. Understand?”
“I do. Sorry.”
“That’s another ground rule: no apologizing. I mean it, Gael. I get the feeling sorry is your oxygen. I need you to be less fragile.”
“OK,” Gael promised.
“Tell you what,” Alex conceded. “If you can go the next hour without apologizing, there’ll be kissing later. For now, I’m gonna sit here. You’re gonna stand over there.”
Gael stood and moved and stood at the foot of the bed.
“There’s a candle on the dresser. Light it, then shut off the overhead.”
When Gael turned back, Alex stood, removed her jeans and top, then repositioned herself against the headboard. “You still OK?” she asked.
