by Fiona Riley
Her mother’s hand closed on her own. “Abby, you’re pulverizing that cup with your spoon. I guarantee you that if it’s not stirred by now, it will never be to your standards. Let’s give the fine china a break, okay?” She took the spoon out of Abby’s hand and placed it delicately on the folded white dessert napkin between them.
“Sorry.” Abby wasn’t sure why she was apologizing, because her mother’s tone wasn’t sore.
She figured it had more to do with getting caught.
The wedding had been perfect. The toasts were sincere and honest with just the right amount of humor. The music and dancing had been fantastic; watching Samantha and Lucinda glide across the floor so effortlessly was envy inducing. All in all, it had been one of the most fun and love-filled weddings Abby had ever attended, and yet, she was unhappy. Or, rather, she was distracted.
“You’ve been watching her for hours, Abigail,” Edie pointed out. “Take back some of that control and ask her to dance.”
“What control?”
“The control that Sasha took when she asked you to dance. The ball is in her court, so to speak, right? That must be a little maddening.” Edie traced her fingers along her choker. “I didn’t raise you to sit back and wait, Abby. Get that dance on your own terms. Go.”
Abby was out of her seat before her mother’s words had settled in. She wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and her mother was right—she had been watching Sasha for most of the night. What bothered her wasn’t that she was captivated by Sasha. It had more to do with the combination of interest and anxiety that swirled around her, waiting to be asked to dance. She wanted to dance with Sasha. She wasn’t going to wait all night for nothing.
Her surge of confidence lasted all of five seconds when something at the bar caught her attention. Sasha appeared to be flirting with an attractive red-haired woman. She stopped in her tracks—the response was automatic—and considered the womanizing comment she had made to her mother earlier. It lingered in her subconscious and she couldn’t shake it. Was this really a road she wanted to go down? Desperate and single, accompanying her mother to a wedding, only to lust after the charming waitress/bartender at the event?
She jolted in place, ashamed that the pretense she usually assigned to her mother reared its ugly head in her own thought process. This is why you’re alone, Abby, she thought. Because part of you thinks you’re better than everyone else. Just as she turned to head back to the table, Sasha looked up at her and smiled. She took a deep breath and decided to be brave. It was now or never.
Chapter Six
Sasha did a mental tally of the things she had to get done in the next few minutes. She was filling in at the main bar for Shaun while he took his fifteen-minute break, but the steady flow of people to the bar hadn’t given her the chance to go over Casey’s to-do list. She gave the shaker one last hard agitation before pouring the contents into the three martini glasses she had lined along the bar. Her shoulders ached from the endless cocktails she had mixed and the countless trays she had carried throughout the night. The wedding never quite slowed down; it seemed as though everyone was everywhere at once. It was clear the guests were enjoying themselves, and the part of her that enjoyed people watching was thriving. Still, she was getting tired.
Her back pocket squawked as she drained the last of the shaker into the third glass and garnished it with fruit stars from the bowl. She wiped her hands and reached for the walkie-talkie. “Can you repeat that?”
“You’re supposed to end all conversation with over.” Elise’s voice was playful on the other end.
“Sorry. Over.” Sasha smiled as she wiped down the bar top.
“I said, your special dessert is ready. I’ll have Jonah walk it out. How’s it going?”
“Over.”
“What?” Elise sounded confused.
“You didn’t end with over. I was just helping you out. Over.” Sasha winked at the attractive woman waiting at the bar and nodded as she pointed to a cosmo on the bar list. She started gathering the ingredients when Elise’s voice crackled over the speaker again.
“Did you dance yet with that woman who’s far too smart and beautiful for you?”
Sasha reached back to turn down the volume but it was too late—the cute redhead in front of her was already giving her a raised eyebrow. She bit the inside of her cheek and slid the completed cocktail across the bar with a shrug. Once the guest walked away she turned her back to the bar and spoke softly into the receiver.
“Seriously, Elise? Your timing could not be worse.”
“I’m just trying to keep your eye on the prize, Sasha. Over.”
Sasha spun around and looked toward the back of the venue at the kitchen entrance and caught sight of Elise waving with a smirk. “You’re watching me?”
“I got bored. Your life is more exciting than mine. Anyway, I think that woman you like has been watching you. Over.”
“You need to stop meddling and keep stirring, or whatever you do back there.” Sasha huffed and shook her head. “Over.”
Elise laughed. “I’m pretty much done for the night. The desserts are already out and the after-dinner coffees are being dispersed. Now it’s just clean up and catch a breath.”
“And meddle. Don’t forget the meddling part. And you forgot to say over,” Sasha added as Shaun approached to relieve her.
“Right, right. Okay, I’ll let you focus on what you’re doing. Keep me posted. See ya, Sash.”
Sasha leaned toward the receiver to reply when Elise’s voice taunted, “Over.”
“What are you two up to?” Shaun stretched and eyed the walkie-talkie.
“Nothing. She’s bugging me.” Sasha slipped the radio under the bar as she noticed Abby approaching. “I’ll get this one.”
Shaun snorted and made a show of wiping down the bar, as if she didn’t notice him priming himself to eavesdrop.
Sasha redirected her attention to Abby. “Hey, I was just going to pop by your table.”
“Oh, really?” Sasha thought she sounded hopeful. As if Abby could read her mind, she cleared her throat and spoke again, lower this time. “I thought I’d come by and chat with you.”
Sasha was about to reply when she noticed someone approaching in her periphery.
“Special dessert plate from the chef.” Jonah gave her an exaggerated nod and blew a kiss to no one in particular.
She wondered if she could subtly throttle him. Instead she took the plate and dismissed him after he lingered, staring. “Go away.”
Jonah looked between Abby and Sasha with a huff. “Fine. I’m going on break.” He punctuated his statement by untying his apron and tossing it at Shaun, who continued to inspect the cleanliness of the glasses in a ridiculous way. He looked like a giant handling a child’s tea set. Worst. Spy. Ever.
She looked back to Abby. “Sorry. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
Abby made eye contact with her briefly before looking over her shoulder at Shaun. Sasha wondered if she could tell he was trying to listen in. These guys were totally killing her game tonight. She had to put some space between Shaun and Abby, or nothing good would come of it. She walked around to Abby’s side of the bar, attempting to block Abby’s sightline of Shaun.
Abby raised an eyebrow at her and said, “I was going to ask you about that dance. Assuming you’re still interested, that is.”
“Of course I’m still interested.” She hadn’t expected Abby to say that. Abby blinked at her and she realized that she was still holding the plate of lemon meringue like a fool. She glanced over her shoulder and handed the plate to Shaun. “Make sure Ms. Davenport at table twenty-four gets this. Tell her it’s from me and thank her for her stain help. I’m taking my break.”
Shaun was leaning so close to hear them that he nearly fell over when she addressed him directly. What an ass. He cleared his throat and nodded, but not before giving her a broad, knowing smile. She would catch hell for this later, she could count on it.
Abby answered her perplexed look with a smile. “You can dance, right?”
Sasha grinned. Her mother had been a professional dancer in Russia before emigrating to Boston in the seventies. Of course she could dance—it was in her blood. “I can. Can you?”
Abby shrugged. “I’ve been on a dance floor or two in my life—you know, when I find the time to step away from my calculator and abacus.”
“Well then, it sounds like we’ll do just fine.” Sasha took the dig in stride and decided she liked Abby even more when she was a little feisty. Sasha pulled Abby toward the dance floor, weaving them between couples until they were just to the right of the center. She settled into the lead position and waited for Abby to adjust.
“You’re leading?” Abby’s tone was playful. Her eyes flickered to Sasha’s lips and she made a mental note to thank Elise later. Sasha took the opportunity to appreciate the beautiful blond shades of Abby’s hair. Why hadn’t she noticed how captivating Abby was before? She assumed it was because she had been so focused on Shelly at those mixers, but still…there was something intriguing about Abby—she was just the right amount of sexy and sassy. She was hot.
“Right now, I am,” Sasha replied, sliding a little closer, deciding to see if Abby was as attracted to her as she was to Abby. “But I’m not someone who always needs to be in control.”
Abby laughed and took the initiative this time, guiding Sasha’s other hand to her hip. “That’s good to know. I’d hate to think you had the wrong impression of me—I’m no pushover.”
“I’m game to get all the impressions of you.” Sasha pulled Abby close, inviting herself into Abby’s personal space. When Abby didn’t protest, her confidence ignited. They were definitely on the same page here. She didn’t bother trying to be discreet about the way she stared at Abby’s lips. She wanted to make sure Abby knew what she had meant earlier—she was gorgeous and she wanted to get to know her better.
“And what if you don’t like what you find?” Abby inched closer, her hand encouraging Sasha to hold her tighter. Sasha wondered how much closer they could get before they were breathing the same air. Her stomach tightened at the thought.
“I doubt that very much.” Sasha turned them slowly and massaged Abby’s lower back through her dress. “If anything, I bet the more I know of you, the more I’d want to know.” The truth in that statement surprised her—she wasn’t used to being so candid. She was notorious for being cool and noncommittal when it came to women. This was something that Samantha and her matchmaking ways had helped Sasha understand was a defense mechanism, and she wondered why this interaction was so different.
Abby’s eye contact seemed to intensify and Sasha couldn’t tell who was in control of this conversation anymore. Abby moved against her so sensually, so confidently, Sasha began to wonder if she was ever actually leading or if she was in fact being led all along. When Abby’s hand slid from her midback to dance along her hairline, the tightening in her stomach moved lower. It was decided—Abby was clearly in charge of this interaction and Sasha loved it.
They were so close that when Abby spoke, she could feel the breath along her lips. “It sounds as though you may be the one that’s impressionable.”
Sasha felt wet. This banter was giving her all kinds of delicious sensations. “I’d let you make an impression on me. I’d like it to be a lasting one. Maybe we could…”
“We could what?” Abby’s eyes traced over her lips again and Sasha’s body hummed at the warmth of Abby pressed against her. She was only vaguely aware of the happenings around her, but it didn’t matter. Her closeness to Abby mattered.
“Maybe we could—” The sound of a room full of glasses being tapped by the wedding guests to signal a kiss between the brides felt serendipitous. She decided it was now or never. “Kiss.”
Abby’s lips parted in response but Sasha didn’t wait for her to reply. She leaned forward and closed the gap, placing a soft, lingering kiss to Abby’s lips. She held her close and sucked on Abby’s bottom lip as the guests around her cheered in the background. She momentarily considered how it might be inappropriate to kiss a guest at a wedding she was working at, but all those thoughts faded away when Abby’s tongue entered the equation. She made no attempt to stifle the moan Abby stirred up with the intensity of her matched kiss.
“Hey, Sash—whoa.” Jonah’s voice behind her shattered the moment into a million pieces. Abby pulled back with a surprised gasp and Sasha groaned at the abruptness of it all.
As Abby tried to step back, Sasha held her close, willing Jonah to disappear into thin air. When he awkwardly cleared his throat indicating he hadn’t indeed evaporated, her shoulders drooped. “What, Jonah?”
“Casey needs you. Burger lost someone’s something in the coat closet or broke something, I’m not sure. Casey looks so mad—you should probably talk him off the ledge.” Sasha didn’t bother turning to face Jonah. She had never hated that clumsy kid Burger more in her life.
She sighed. Abby had stepped out of her grasp and looked a little dazed. She only nodded in agreement—that dazed feeling was mutual. “Okay, Jonah. I’ll be right there, thanks.”
“Well that was unexpected.” Abby ran her thumb under her bottom lip and Sasha had to root herself in place to keep herself from reattaching her mouth to Abby’s.
“The kissing or the interruption?” Sasha ran her hand through her ponytail, more for something to do than anything else.
“Both, I suppose.” Abby’s expression was unreadable. Sasha took comfort in the fact that Abby didn’t sound disappointed. Even if Sasha felt disappointed that the kiss was over.
“I have to—”
“Go. Yeah, I got that.” Abby gave her a small smile.
“Can we, I want to…Maybe we can do this again sometime?” As soon as the words came out, Sasha regretted them. What a moron.
“Uh, sure.” Abby reached out and took her hand before placing a kiss to Sasha’s cheek. “It was nice catching up with you, Sasha.”
“You, too.” Sasha felt like all the confidence and game she’d had moments ago had gotten up and gone without her. As Abby walked away, she finally found her voice. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Abby looked back over her shoulder and gave her a small wave. Something told Sasha that that was her ship sailing away. Never had she been more sorry about being right.
Chapter Seven
Abby hated waiting. The only thing she hated more than waiting was waiting for her mother. That was a special kind of annoyance that had only gotten worse the older they both got. Her mother was destined to be late for her own funeral, it was decided. But she couldn’t really fault her mother this time around. She had kind of sprung this on her.
“I’ll be out in a second,” her mother called from her massive walk-in closet.
“I’m sure that’s not even remotely true,” Abby said under her breath.
“Don’t mumble—it’s impolite.” Edie Davenport emerged from the closet with the grandeur of an Oscar winner on the red carpet. She was ageless, but more from good genes and a life of wealth than plastic surgery. Aside from that tiny eyelift and some Botox she had four years ago, she was basically untouched. “How do I look?”
“Expensive.” It was true. She was dressed in a pantsuit that flattered every curve of that ageless frame. And there were diamonds, lots of shiny diamonds. Everywhere.
“The necklace is too much?” Edie looked in the mirror and touched the three-carat diamond solitaire floating above her collarbone.
“No, no. Far from it. I think the Liberace look you have going with the giant diamond encrusted brooch and three flashy rings is what puts you over the top.” Edie gave her a face. “But the necklace is fine.”
“Never change, Abby. Your sense of humor and super
iority are your best assets.” Edie grabbed a scarf from the neatly organized rack on the back of her closet door and looped it around her neck. It was perfect. It quieted the loudness of her displays of wealth while somehow completing the outfit in the most amazing way.
“Har, har.” Abby laughed and pointed to the clock. “We have to go. Samantha is a busy woman.”
“I still don’t understand why we’re doing this. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love any opportunity to spend time with Samantha—she’s a doll—but still, this seems ridiculous.” Edie was contemplating a few purses as she spoke.
“The cream one, it goes well with your scarf,” Abby supplied as she stood. “And I told you before—it’s time for you to meet someone your own age to terrorize. It’s been long enough since Daddy died. You’re not getting any younger.”
Her mother gave her the same sad smile she always did when Abby brought up her father. He had truly been the love of her mother’s life, and she had made no attempts at dating or meeting anyone since he’d passed five years ago. But it was a waste—her mother was a fantastic person and she deserved to continue to live a long and happy life with someone who could help her realize the potential that awaited her out there. At least, that’s what all the romance novels Abby read for leisure had taught her over the years.
“You do have excellent taste. At least you got something from me.” Edie picked up the cream purse and nodded toward the door, saying nothing as she walked by. Abby knew she was hesitant about this meeting, but she just needed a push, that was all. That’s what she was telling herself anyway.
As they drove to Samantha’s office, she let her mind wander. This had all started after Samantha and Lucinda’s wedding last month. She had embarrassingly fallen for Sasha’s flirtations and entirely blamed the bottomless champagne for the mind-numbing kiss that she’d participated in. That’s what annoyed her about it—without even hesitating she had deepened the kiss and dragged it well past the PG-zone when her tongue got a mind of its own and ventured into Sasha’s mouth. She shook her head at the memory and tried to refocus on the task at hand: finding her mother a life partner.
