The woman was pleasant-looking this time, if a little short for my taste. Her face was weather-beaten, her hair greying—I couldn’t judge, it wouldn’t be long until I was there myself.
Jaz’s eyes widened, and I followed her gaze to the handle of a paddle sticking out of the stranger’s purse.
“I’m Christine, from Craigslist. And that’s the sub I’m supposed to be dominating tonight.” The stranger pointed to me. “A better question is, who are you?”
5
Jaz
Clutching Gretchen to my chest, I took a step back. That bumped me into Faye, and I jumped forward as if I’d been burned by a hot stove.
My head was spinning. Faye was a lesbian? So I had a chance… except apparently she was going to sleep with a woman from the Internet tonight, and not me. Could it have been me if I’d happened to put up a Craigslist ad?
“I’m so sorry,” I muttered. “I’ll get out of your way. I’ll take Gretchen, and you can—I mean, I guess she should stay here, so I don’t know how you were planning to—”
“Stop, Jaz.” Faye silenced me with those two syllables. “You need to leave,” she told Christine.
“What? But we had so many plans. I was really looking forward to the part with the whipped cream.”
“I don’t have any, so leave.”
Faye sounded serious, but I spoke softly to her anyway. “Seriously, you don’t have to cancel this because of me. At least give her a chance. She came all the way up those stairs…”
Christine looked from me to Faye, her expression alternating between confusion and hopefulness. Her hand hovered over her handbag as if she was about to pull out some whipped cream now.
“You don’t understand,” Faye told me. Turning to Christine, she said, “You didn’t talk to me on there. In fact, report the person that told you to come here. It’s a fake.”
If she was serious, she’d been pretty quick at figuring out what’d happened. What if she was planning to have sex with this woman, but got embarrassed and lied?
Whether it was with me or not, I liked the mental image of her covered in whipped cream…
“I drove an hour to meet you,” Christine said. “You’re honestly telling me I should turn around and go home?”
“It’s okay,” I whispered to Faye. “If you want her to come in, I understand. We’re all adults here—I understand everyone has needs. Don’t let me get in your way.”
“You’re not in my way!” Faye’s exasperation was written all over her face. “You, leave. You, get back inside and stop thinking I have any desire for this person to be here.”
Christine sulked some more, but after another vehement rejection, she backed away and left. Slamming the door behind her, Faye cursed softly.
Funny, only a day ago I’d never thought I’d hear her swear. Now she seemed to do it all the time.
“You seem to have a knack for catching me at embarrassing moments,” she said wearily, taking Gretchen from me as she collapsed onto the sofa. “You’re probably wondering what all that was about.”
“Just a little.”
She snorted, apparently able to see I was actually burning up with curiosity. “It’s my ex,” she said. “We broke up a few months ago, and it wasn’t exactly amicable. In fact, it was downright nasty. Think Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath, but without driving each other to suicide.”
I frowned, not seeing the connection. “So your ex…”
“Thinks it’s some kind of hilarious revenge to send horny women from Craigslist to my door.”
My arms felt empty without Gretchen in them. I folded my hands awkwardly as I sat in the armchair Faye had vacated earlier.
Faye’s tone made it clear she was telling the truth. So much for my tiny shred of hope. Actually, the entire queer female population had lost out tonight. Even if Faye would never look at me twice like that, I’d sure liked the idea that she could be batting for the same team.
“So it’s a prank? Your ex thinks it’s funny to imply that you’d be gay?”
Now Faye gave me a funny look. “Well, no. That wouldn’t be much of a joke.”