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Chapter 3

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Annabelle hated first dates. The awkwardness, the uncertainty, and the “Should I... Shouldn’t I... Will she...?” Every relationship she’d ever had started with a friendship that turned into something more over time. She avoided picking women up, blind dates and, of course, those first dates. A date with a friend felt like nothing more than leveling up their friendship, so there was no pressure there. This was so different.

She barely knew Elizabeth, even after spending the fall as players at the faire together. That wasn’t the reason for the wry twist of her lips, however, an expression she tried to smooth out as she checked her lip gloss in the rearview mirror. Here she was on a Tuesday night, one of her few available nights, ready to go out with a woman who seemed to represent everything she’d run away from since she graduated from high school.

So many things about this date made her uncomfortable. She already knew what she was getting into with Elizabeth. Knew it by the way the woman held herself with such poise and grace, the way she spoke and dressed. Seeing her in that business suit felt like the real nail in the coffin. Annabelle worked at the nation’s largest discount store chain, of all places, and Elizabeth... Well, she didn’t know exactly what Elizabeth did, but it had to be prestigious.

Prestigious was the one thing Annabelle had tried not to be for so many years. In just a few minutes, though, it’d be staring her in the face. Still, she would do her best to remember her manners. It certainly wasn’t that Elizabeth didn’t appeal to her. Oh no, far from it.

The woman was damn gorgeous. Achingly beautiful with that long red hair, creamy complexion, and green eyes. Why someone as perfect as her wanted to date Annabelle of all people was beyond her comprehension.

Letting out a deep breath, Annabelle shoved open her car door. It creaked, thirsty for some kind of lubrication. She supposed she could really upgrade if she wanted to, but that meant dipping into money she wasn’t prepared to use. Rusty, as she jokingly called the car, would just need a trip to her buddy to make some small repairs.

For now, she was going to do her best to enjoy this dinner and see why Elizabeth seemed to have a thing for her. Really, it blew her mind.

But what blew her mind even more was seeing that stunning redhead chatting with the host, laughing as she tossed her hair. That one gesture revealed a bare shoulder. The deep green shirt she wore was fashionably asymmetrical, a fluttery sleeve covering her other shoulder. Elizabeth turned and her face lit up when she saw Annabelle.

“Here she is.” She extended her hand to Annabelle, who accepted. The restaurant wasn’t exactly fancy, but it didn’t qualify as casual, either. Annabelle could do the fancy thing if needed, but she was glad Elizabeth didn’t ask it of her.

“Lovely.” The host grinned at them both and nodded toward the interior of the restaurant. “Shall we then, ladies? I’m sure you’re eager to get to know one another, so I’ve taken the liberty of finding you a seat in the back. It’s got a little more privacy than the rest.”

After they were seated in booth that was definitely private, not to mention a little darker than the others, Annabelle couldn’t conceal her curiosity anymore. “I take it you know him?” She thrust her thumb back over her shoulder at the host’s retreating back.

“Yeah. That’s Tommy. He’s a good guy. He dated my cousin, Mike, for a while. All of us went to high school together and hit it off.” Elizabeth’s smile was wide and genuine, causing her eyes to crinkle a bit at the corners. “Of course, high school was a long time ago for me, but not long ago for you, I bet.”

“How long ago?” Annabelle asked. She had to admit, she was curious. Elizabeth seemed not just posh, but much older than her. That self-assurance and poise could have been products of upbringing, but Annabelle figured they were also part of maturity.

“I graduated in ninety-three. I’m sure it seems like a long time ago to you.”

“Oh.” So now Annabelle knew Elizabeth wasn’t just older than her. She was much older. As in nearly the same age as her mother. “Where did you go to school?” she asked, a good diversion while she did the math.

The waitress approached them with a smile and introduced herself, drawing Annabelle from her thoughts. Forty-three. Her date was forty-three. She’d never really considered dating a woman in her forties and she watched as Elizabeth interacted with the waitress. That kind of confidence was definitely intimidating.

“Root beer, please,” Annabelle responded automatically to the drink question. As soon as the waitress walked away, she said, “I’ve never dated someone that much older than me.”

“Ooh, am I the older woman, then?” Elizabeth’s eyes crinkled again and she rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “I’m forty-three, yeah. I went to Brownell-Talbot, because it was the only non-religious private school in town. My family wasn’t particularly religious, but they wanted me to get a top-notch education. What else can I say? I’ve spent my entire life in Omaha. I won’t bore you with college or work experience or the MBA program I was in, though.”

Annabelle wanted to sink into her seat. First, she wondered if Elizabeth didn’t want to talk about her work because she thought someone like Annabelle might not understand it. And then there was the fact that they’d gone to the same high school. What were the odds of that in a city as large and diverse as Omaha? Her private school days were among the best of her life, but also some of the worst. Now here she was, twenty-six, pretty much aimless and underperforming according to her family’s expectations.

And sitting across from her was, no doubt, the kind of woman who exceeded all the expectations in her life. No way would she want a second date once she realized what kind of person Annabelle was, an idea that caused at least some small twinge of regret.

Because as different as they were, dang, Elizabeth was hot. Women like that didn’t pay attention to women like Annabelle. They just arched their eyebrow at her as if she were some kind of insect and then went on their way.

“So, did you also grow up here?”

Annabelle blinked a few times to clear her mind and then nodded, hoping her thoughts didn’t show on her face. “Yup, born and raised, just like you.”

“But you aren’t just like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Annabelle narrowed her eyes, wondering what kind of point Elizabeth wanted to make. Maybe Annabelle had distanced herself so far from her own privileged background, that Elizabeth already had preconceived notions about her. Not that Annabelle would blame her. She’d been cultivating her goth girl look since high school.

“That means I’m glad to be sitting here with you. You have no idea how boring it is to date the same woman time after time, practically clones of each other. I mean, I love that it’s getting easier to find women – especially lesbians – in positions of responsibility and power at their jobs, but sometimes dating feels like a big networking event.” Elizabeth seemed to ponder her words, because then she chuckled and said, “Well, it’s partially my fault for picking up dates at networking events.”

Networking events. It wasn’t something Annabelle could relate to in her chosen job, but she could see by the sparkle in Elizabeth’s eyes that she was truly happy to be here together. The waitress set down their drinks and appetizer, and left them alone.

“Mozzarella sticks. My favorite.” Elizabeth reached for one and dipped it in the marinara sauce. “They’re such a cliché appetizer, but I love them, don’t you?”

“I do,” Annabelle agreed. She picked up a stick and couldn’t help but moan a little bit when she tasted it. “These are the best.”

“Ah, she’s capable of sharing her feelings.” The laughter in Elizabeth’s voice was obvious. Was she laughing at Annabelle or in spite of her? “Do you want to explain why you’re so reticent about dating or is it just something about me? It’s okay. You can be totally honest about what you’re thinking and I won’t hold it against you.”

Annabelle bit her lip. Usually, she said what was on her mind. But in this case, she felt like it would turn into blathering a bunch of nonsense. She wished Elizabeth’s very presence didn’t leave her tongue-tied. It’d been easier to interact with her in costume.

“Great, so that was a real conversation starter.” Even though Elizabeth sounded a little exasperated, she looked amused. “Why don’t we just go into the basics – how about where you went to school?”

That seemed easy enough to answer. “I went to the same place as you, actually. Graduated in oh-nine and, well, I won’t bore you with my non-collegiate experiences.” To Annabelle’s surprise, Elizabeth chuckled. She thought her words had come out sounding sarcastic, not at all humorous.

“You are so cute. I love that you’re nothing like me.”

Okay, so she really did like Annabelle. Weird. “And you are not at all the way I imagine women in their forties,” Annabelle admitted. “I thought you’d think I was some kind of punk.”

Elizabeth leaned back in the booth and folded her arms, as if settling in for a good, long story. “And why is that, Annabelle? Is there an age limit on humor or laughing at sarcasm? Am I not allowed to find you cute, to think a younger woman with piercings and tattoos is attractive? How do you think a woman my age ought to behave?”

There was a playful challenge in her words and Annabelle couldn’t help but meet her gaze and smile in return. Something about looking at Elizabeth made her feel warm all over as she answered, “I don’t know – maybe you should be all business. Give me facts and figures, or whatever you do to close the deal.”

Something about her words must have been equally challenging, because Elizabeth leaned forward and said, “The facts are you’re adorable and I haven’t dated someone like you in a long time. The figures I see are one plus one – you plus me equals fun, if you’ll just stop being so closed-minded about dating someone like me. Closing the deal would be wonderful, because I can’t wait to get my hands on those curves.”

Those words sent shivers all along Annabelle’s body and she gritted her teeth. She shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t want someone like Elizabeth. They were all wrong for each other, yet Elizabeth didn’t seem to think so.

Fighting off this attraction wasn’t going to be easy if Elizabeth kept showing up in her life. Annabelle could have dealt with the distant crush – with the queen – but not this. “I don’t mean to sound like a bitch,” Annabelle started.

“Which means, in fact, you are about to sound like one,” Elizabeth pointed out, quirking her lips to one side. “But continue.”

Once again, Elizabeth’s openness and humor threw her off-kilter. How could someone like her be willing to cut Annabelle so much slack? There was only one thing to do: test just how much crap she was willing to put up with, so Annabelle asked, “Are you slumming?”

“Wow.” Elizabeth blinked rapidly, as if she was about to cry. Suddenly, Annabelle wondered if maybe she’d gone too far, if it was possible Elizabeth’s attraction to her was genuine. “I’d love to know what’s going on with this hostility. What did I ever do to you?”

Annabelle wanted to explain, but it was far too personal for a first date. Or any date. Her friends knew, of course, but how could she tell this woman she represented everything Annabelle wanted to avoid.

“Okay, let me put it another way. Why didn’t you talk to me more at the ren faire?” she asked. “You had your opportunities, you clearly saw me break up with my girlfriend, so if you could catch that one personal moment, why not get to know me while we were there together every weekend?”

“It’s because of those damn rules. We can’t spoil the illusion, as players, so it wouldn’t have been seemly for the queen to get too cozy with any of her ladies-in-waiting. Trust me, I wanted to talk to you, but I also wanted to honor the intent of the faire. So, I waited until the end of the last day.” Elizabeth shrugged, having explained everything, and Annabelle had to admit she was right.

“True,” she agreed, “but it’s not that strict. I mean, you could have said something.”

Elizabeth seemed to relax, her shoulders easing down a notch and her arms unfolding. “You’re right. I was very interested, though, and afraid I might say a little too much, once you gave me an opening. So I waited and if that’s what’s bothering you, I’m sorry about that. Maybe one of these days, I can learn to ignore what’s expected of me.”

That was something Annabelle had been doing for years. She fiddled with one of the napkins as she considered how long it’d been since she last did what someone expected of her, with the exception of an employer.

The server brought their food and asked if there was anything else she could get them. After they both declined the offer, Annabelle met Elizabeth’s gaze again. Elizabeth returned her stare, apparently unperturbed by her bluntness. Annabelle had pushed and pushed, wondering if she would run, and it seemed Elizabeth was determined to see this date through to the end.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. Maybe she really is attracted to me.

Annabelle took the top of the bun off her burger and removed the slice of tomato. “I’m sorry for being difficult,” she said, patting the bun back into place. “It’s just that I’m still surprised you wanted to go out with me. You strike me as the kind of woman who’s got it all.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Elizabeth sliced through her steak deftly, utensils at the proper angle and hands gentle as she cut off a small bite.

“Not a bad thing,” Annabelle clarified. “Just nothing like me.”

“Let me tell you something, Annabelle – I’ve dated many women who were just like me and I was bored out of my mind.”

Somehow, Annabelle doubted that.

Her feelings must have shown on her face, because Elizabeth arched an eyebrow and said, “Let me put it another way. Are you familiar with Pride and Prejudice?”

Was she familiar with it? Annabelle lived for literature, a love passed on to her by her mother. “I’ve only read everything by Jane Austen, even her short stories,” she said, hoping to sound nonchalant.

“Great. So tell me, who was the prejudiced person in that story – Mr. Darcy with all his arrogance toward the Bennett family, or Lizzy Bennett for refusing to acknowledge his love for her, simply because he was rich?”

Ouch. Not only had Elizabeth made a point, but a stinging, literary one at that. It was a deeper thought than most women like her were capable of and Annabelle felt her heart soften.

“You win that round,” she conceded. “But I have just one question for you.”

“Okay, go for it,” Elizabeth challenged her.

Annabelle sat up straighter and watched her date, waiting for her reaction. “You said you waited to talk to me, because you didn’t want to break the rules of authenticity set by the faire organizers. So, do you always play by the rules?”

Elizabeth gave her a sly smile. “Let’s find out, shall we?”