Chapter 2
828 Words
Chapter 2Lazuli’s was an upscale restaurant that catered to the Wall Street crowd. Christina had been to some important business lunches in her time, but she had never rated Lazuli’s. The interior was elegant, the wait staff wore formal attire and there were no prices on the Menu.
“Have you decided” Sandra asked.
“I haven’t a clue,” Christina said, trying to read the Italian.
“Allow me, then,” Sandra responded.
She signaled for the waiter and fired off a rapid fire staccato of words in Italian. Christina caught the words Chateau, Piscotti, Vermichelli and Mozzarella, but the rest was indecipherable. The waiter departed and returned with a bottle of wine, which he held with a white cloth. He opened the bottle and Sandra delicately sniffed at the cork and nodded. He poured a small bit into each of their wine glasses and departed, leaving the bottle in a silver chalice full of ice.
“Hope you like a good red,” Sandra said between sips.
“I’m not much of a drinker, and I know nothing about wines,” Christina admitted.
“Trust me, just sip it, it’s the good stuff, pays to have an expense account,” she replied with a mischievous grin and wink.
The wine was good, heady beyond anything she had ever tried. Soon they were on their third glass and she felt all strange, warm, tingly, but giddy and a little more relaxed.
“So, how are you holding up on your first day back?” Sandra asked.
“It’s been good. Everyone has been so sweet. I…I was really nervous…”
“Why? We’re the same friends you had before.”
“I’m not the same, I mean...look at me,” she said despondently.
“I am. I have been for a long time, since I first met you, actually,” Sandra said, lowering her voice and octave or two.
Christina blushed, despite herself. Sandra was the most openly gay woman she knew, and there had been a few times when she wondered if the young woman had been hitting on her. She had always managed to convince herself she was imagining things, that there was no way a beautiful young woman like Sandra could see anything in her. It had stopped, if it hadn’t been her imagination, about the time she and Clint began seeing each other.
There might be such a thing as a match made in heaven, but she and Clint Barrows had enjoyed a match made in the accounting office. There had never been any passion, it was simply a relationship of convenience. It hadn’t been the kind of fairytale love affair she had dreamed of, but working eighty hour weeks had made meeting anyone hard and her intelligence seemed to intimidate men.
She gave the up and coming young man someone to take to parties and he gave her someone to come home too. They hadn’t gotten engaged until her promotion had brought their incomes to about par. s*x had been at best bland and at worst, a chore. Not only for her, but for him as well. His breaking off the engagement had come as no shock, in fact she had expected it. The loss hadn’t been the kind of deeply personal one a jilted lover might feel, but more a loss of security. Still, it had left a void in her life and she had to admit, she had grown accustomed to having someone in her life and she had suffered through depression and loneliness.
“Christina? Christina? Hey you!”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry!”
“It’s all right, I’m just not used to not being the center of attention,” she joked.
“I was thinking of Clint, I’m sorry.”
“Miss him?”
“No, not really him. I just miss having someone. It’s very lonely sometimes and well, I don’t expect I’ll meet anyone else.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because.”
“That’s no answer.”
“All right then, if you need to hear it, because I’m maimed. Who would want me? Forty two and disfigured for life. I can’t do anything, I can barely get around,” she said, the pain, anger and fear all coming out in a nasty tone she instantly regretted.
If Sandra noticed or took offense, she didn’t show any sign of it. She sipped her wine contemplatively before replying.
“If you think you are going to be allowed to wallow in self pity, you are gravely mistaken,” she said at last, her voice conveying such deep emotion it stunned Christina.
“How many of my girlfriends have you met Christina?” she asked, apparently switching gears.
“I...I don’t know, maybe five, six?”
“Have I ever brought an ugly woman anywhere with me?”
“No. Of course not, your girlfriends have always been stunning.”
“Damned right. I can afford to be choosey, I’m worth it and won’t ever sell myself short. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The conversation was surreal. Christinawondered if perhaps she had partaken too liberally of the wine.
“Yes, you have everything in the world going for you,” Christina replied.
“I only date the best and I only f**k the best of the best. So listen and listen good. If you weren’t so damned straight laced, I’d have you in my bed, this very afternoon. Do you understand?”
“Sandra, I’m flattered, but…”
“No buts,” she interrupted, “Unless you feel like trying me.”
The waiter appeared with plates of food and Sandra’s serious mood seemed to evaporate. Christina was happy to change the subject and soon they were chatting about various people in the office and the many chapters of the continuing soap opera that was their lives.
- Writer
