Lightning Strikes

by Cass Sellars

  “Well, the couple, who were entirely unknown to my client, were homosexual, like you, correct? And you have a vested interest in seeing someone pay for the crimes against those people, even if it is my innocent client.” He smiled thinly, allowing the words to fall over the weary jury and his intended target. The cameras panned from the attorney to a bemused Sydney. Parker squeezed Syd’s fingers.

  “Mr. Reagan, are you implying that I am less likely to do my job professionally if I don’t share a common sexual orientation with the victims?” Syd had leaned forward slightly with that statement, and it was impossible to miss the involuntary reflex that moved Reagan back a foot from the witness box. Sydney Hyatt clearly had no intention of waiting for a response to the deliberately rhetorical question.

  “By that theory, sir, you would be unable to provide fair representation to your client, Mr. Walters, unless you were also part of the Pocono Aryan Brotherhood.” The camera caught Reagan’s African American legal assistant shifting uncomfortably in the front row. Parker leaned forward as if to be closer to the action. Her lover’s command of the room was entirely arousing.

  “Objection, Your Honor!” Reagan shouted and spun angrily toward the judge; however, the proverbial bell had already been rung and the judge looked mildly amused.

  “Overruled, Mr. Reagan. You started it.”

  Parker clapped at the TV when the news segment ended, and she hugged Sydney proudly.

  “Class A asshole,” Sydney fired at the screen, not at all comfortable with the repeated attention on her appearance and to her testimony.

  Brilliant! Richard texted Sydney.

  “And how was your day, baby?” Sydney lobbed at a glowing Parker with a smirk, muting the TV and wishing to change the subject.

  Parker skimmed her lips over Syd’s. “I am very turned on right now.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so shallow, Duncan. Fleeting celebrity is all it takes to turn your head? I might be in trouble.” She pushed Parker against the sofa and kissed down her neck provoking squeals of mock protest from Parker.

  “Oh, you’re definitely in trouble.” A devilish grin pulled across Parker’s lips as she spoke, returning Syd’s kisses before pulling back to look at her. “How about we go out next Friday night?”

  Syd returned her attention to Parker’s lips. “I’ll take you wherever you want, baby,” Sydney replied lovingly, entertained by the unexpected departure from their quiet evening ritual.

  “Why don’t we get everyone to meet us at the Pride?”

  Syd’s mouth stilled on her skin before she sat up to take an uncomfortable gulp from her scotch. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Why? Are you ashamed to be seen there with me? Or is there a special monument to you in the back or something you don’t want me to see?” Parker teased.

  “God, no. I just want to make sure that given my…dubious past associations…”

  “Shall I wear my I Heart Sydney T-shirt?” Parker joked with a devious smirk.

  “I thought I forbade you to leave the house without it?” Sydney lobbed back at her playfully.

  “And I would never dream of it.” Parker placed her palm over her heart. “Just make sure you have your Property of Parker Duncan dog tags.”

  Syd pulled her swiftly across the sofa to perch on her lap. “I might have misplaced those, baby,” she said, feigning a bewildered look.

  “Don’t worry, my love, I plan to brand you before we leave the house again anyway.”

  “Really,” Syd responded, running her fingers along Parker’s skin.

  “Yes, really.” Parker leaned in and kissed her hard, sliding down to bite her neck.

  *

  Parker expected Friday night at the Pride to be flush with the customary work crowd before morphing into the late night dancers and drinkers, at least some of whom Syd might have once had intimate knowledge of. Jen’s morning sickness, which had parlayed into evening sickness, and Mack’s late work prevented them from joining. Allen and Richard were hosting Allen’s very straight cousins from Minnesota who would not have appreciated the venue. Parker was secretly happy it was just the two of them.

  Sydney guided the newly repainted Porsche into a street slot near the bar and came around for Parker.

  “Did I mention you look remarkably hot tonight?” Syd commented on the miniskirt and high-heeled boots Parker had chosen partly with an eye toward keeping Sydney’s focus only on her and partly to overcome her slightly unnerving position as the faceless reason Sydney Hyatt no longer prowled the dance floor of the Pride.

  “Are you okay being here?” Parker studied Syd’s angular face and locked her arms around her neck.

  “Are you kidding?” Syd framed her lover in her arms and against the car. “I am more than proud to be with you, baby.” Syd looked at her carefully and Parker felt the enchanting routine of her body melting at the proximity of her lover’s.

  “How about we go see Steve. It’s about time he met the famous Parker Jean Duncan.”

  Parker rolled her eyes at the words and poked Syd in the side.

  “Well, well, well.” Steve leaned over the freshly wiped bar and caught Sydney in a loud kiss. He turned to smile at Parker. “You must be the famous…wait, don’t tell me…Debbie, no, Angela…Betty, no, Pam, wait…Parker! That’s it.” Steve tapped his chin and acted like he had just arrived at a successful recall. “You did know the Sydney Hyatt’s Women Parade is not until tomorrow night, right?” He winked at her playfully as she laughingly met his eye.

  Parker responded smoothly, “Well, darn, and after all this work.” She indicated her hair and outfit with a grand sweep of her hand. “I’ll just have to take my big, shiny float and go home.” She smiled as Steve leaned in to take her hand expecting a handshake. He suddenly pulled her instead to kiss her cheek.

  “Well, aren’t you both hilarious?” Sydney rolled her eyes. “When you’re done spearing me with my questionable past, could you please bring my little comedian a Cab? I’ll have the usual.”

  Parker squeezed Syd’s hand as she whispered theatrically, “Please make sure the usual is just a drink.” Parker neglected her usual caution not to label their relationship in fear of driving Syd back to the anonymity of the bar and the arms of a stranger. But she didn’t see any indication that Syd had any desire for another woman in her life.

  Syd perched on a stool and Parker leaned against her, tapping Sydney’s knee in an absent rhythm while the crowd moved past them. She pointed across the room, rapidly swelling with loud music and writhing dancing bodies, indicating her path to the back hallway and the bathroom. She headed through the crowd, slowing briefly at the short wall where Sydney had first asked her to dance. She glanced back to see Sydney watching her; she raised her glass in recognition. Parker walked a few steps farther to stand behind two inebriated girls, each sporting outfits created from half the necessary fabric.

  “Did you see who’s at the bar?” The girl with spiky platinum hair pointed over her shoulder at Sydney who leaned across the bar, engrossed in a conversation with Steve.

  “How could I miss that?” came the indignant reply from her friend wearing what looked like a pleather bikini top over skintight capris. “I guess she got tired of whatever nameless skank she was doing.”

  “I hope so. I would so love to get my hands on that, just once. Yum.” She straightened her outfit as she spoke.

  “Not before I do. Let her sit for a while, she’ll find me when she’s ready. I heard she doesn’t like aggressive girls.” Girl Number Two was apparently a planner, Parker thought with amusement.

  Parker silently enjoyed the conversation which progressed from what Sydney must look like naked to speculating on her skills in bed, the subject of many an apparent rumor.

  “I’ve never begged for it from anyone but that is one fine piece, right there.”

  Parker smiled to herself as she looked back at her personal lounge lizard still deep in conversation with Steve. Only a faint doubt crept through her
mind. After all, she spent almost every night with her. When she made it home at a decent hour, Parker donned socks and a long T-shirt to cross to Sydney’s loft and slide into bed beside her. She jokingly referred to it as her walk-of-shame outfit since she would repeat the routine in reverse to get ready for work at her own place. Sydney never gave her reason to believe another woman occupied her attention. She silently congratulated herself for managing not to define their relationship and had no intention of putting Syd in a place where she would be required to either.

  *

  “I have to admit, she seems really great. She has to be,” Steve said. “I have never seen you go this long without clubbing some chick and dragging her back to your lair.”

  “God, Steve, I wasn’t that bad.” Syd groaned at a very recent past that she hoped would stay there.

  “Yes you were, Tequila.” Steve laughed when she shifted uncomfortably on the barstool.

  “Stop,” Sydney warned with a laugh. “When Parker comes back here please be sure to leave your sordid nicknames out of the conversation.”

  “Whatever you say, Reverend Hyatt.” Steve laughed at her. “Any news from the batty blonde bimbo?”

  “Nothing, thank goodness. Is she still coming in here?” Sydney mentally crossed her fingers as he answered.

  “I saw her in here a few weeks ago picking up Paula Tucker. I tried to warn her, but Paula was too drunk to care, I guess. Maybe Ms. Becky has found your replacement.”

  “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, even Tucker.” Sydney referred to her former friend who couldn’t resist making picking up women at the Pride her personal competition with Syd.

  “She has really stepped into your shoes, so to speak,” Steve delivered flippantly.

  “I’m trying to decide how I feel about my legacy as the deposed Pride lothario. I suppose I should be a little embarrassed, especially since Paula could take over so easily.”

  “I’d get you a plaque for your retirement, my dear, but I wouldn’t want to hurt Paula’s feelings,” Steve joked.

  “Very funny, ass.” Syd punched his arm.

  “They would be glad to have you back anytime, you know.” Steve glanced over the dance floor at several single women clearly shopping for new companionship.

  “I’m not hating this one-woman thing so much. Especially when she looks like that.” Sydney appraised Parker as she glided through the dancing couples and headed toward her with a strange determined look on her face. Syd was shocked when Parker drove a very possessive kiss onto Syd’s mouth, drawing it out to a very public display, not typical of Parker Duncan.

  Responding automatically, Syd pulled Parker between her knees, gripping her hips and fervently returning the assertive caress. Parker lingered against her lips before Sydney backed only slightly away, to take in the eyes that fired at her.

  “What was that for?” Syd asked, slightly out of breath. “Not that I wouldn’t take it any moment of any day.”

  “Well,” Parker spoke with an edge, “as your apparent nameless skank”—Parker made air quotes and an unpleasant face—“I thought I should give them something else to talk about in the bathroom line.”

  “Ooh.” Syd grimaced. “Sorry. Do you want to leave?” She peered around Parker to see if she recognized anyone. She didn’t.

  “Why would I want to do that?” Dripping with sarcasm, she playfully closed into Syd’s face. “I am probably the most hated woman in Fairfax County. It’s really not safe for me to be out alone.” Parker nearly incapacitated Sydney with her stare.

  “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be here to defend you.” Syd happily kissed her again before handing her a full glass of wine.

  “Wow, a real glass this time?” Parker appraised the stubby, inelegant bar glass as if it was a Waterford flute.

  “Nothing but the best for my skank.” Parker punched Sydney on her arm in response and spun around to settle back against her flank. As they watched the dance floor, Syd whispered in her ear, “Think you can leave those boots on for later?” She kissed her neck and skidded her hand up Parker’s exposed thigh.

  “Uh-huh,” Parker replied breathily tilting her head back onto Sydney’s shoulder.

  Sydney delighted in imagining what the promise of later held. “Good answer.” Syd felt content and amazingly happy. “My turn for the bathroom,” she announced after the line for the facilities had died momentarily.

  “Try to avoid picking anyone up on the way, Romeo,” Parker warned.

  Sydney slid a kiss over Parker’s temple and spoke softly into her ear. “No worries, my girlfriend would kill me.” Syd didn’t analyze her statement. As she walked through the crowd, she felt Parker staring after her, and caught her eye when she glanced back.

  As Syd exited the bathroom she searched across the bar for Parker, but her view was blocked by broad shoulders clad in a too-tight black muscle tee: Paula Tucker. Steve caught Syd’s eye and shrugged, thoroughly enjoying the show, obviously anticipating the impending next act. Syd’s path back was strewn with dancers, drinkers, and the smell of beer. She met numerous greetings from old acquaintances with a casual wave or a nod, but Syd made a deliberate path through the mosh pit of bodies with a single intention. She strode up behind Paula and slapped her hand a little too hard against her left shoulder.

  “Hey, Paula. What can I do for you?” Sydney’s voice was low and a little dangerous.

  “Not a thing, Hyatt, we’re good.” Paula tossed the words over her shoulder dismissively as she leaned closer to Parker who was regarding the forward stranger curiously. She was clearly uninterested in Paula’s attempt at small talk but she hadn’t seemed to notice, let alone care.

  “Just so you know, Tucker, she’s mine.” Sydney wasn’t smiling as she inserted her body slightly between her lover and the interloper. Syd knew she sounded possessive and not particularly politically correct, but she was intent on separating them. She would apologize later.

  “Really.” Paula looked dubious as she casually rested her back and elbows against the bar, regarding Sydney as if she was simply reviving old competitions.

  “Absolutely.” Syd pulled Parker’s hand into hers. “Ready, baby?”

  Parker reacted to the intoxicating sound of Syd’s warning tone. “Certainly.” Parker took Syd’s hand as they waved toward Steve, and Sydney avoided eye contact with Paula. Parker’s mind reeled. Sydney had comfortably declared them a couple, twice.

  “Call me later, Syd.” Steve was clearly enjoying Paula’s priceless expression as she stared after them. Parker could only imagine the ensuing conversation.

  Parker gripped Sydney’s hand tightly and laid her head against her lover’s shoulder as they walked toward the car. “I hope you had fun tonight.” Parker had no plans to mention Syd’s earlier girlfriend comment. She knew at that moment that she still wasn’t ready to trust. Syd pressed into Parker and smiled against her lips before delivering a final devastating kiss.

  *

  Becky sat in her Jeep just across the street, the shadow of an ancient oak and a broken streetlight shielding its cotton-candy tone from view. She watched carefully and ground her teeth at the ludicrous display of disgusting affection. She saw Sydney open the car door for the plain girl, her muscled arms flexed, and Becky found a renewed desire for Sydney. Paula was a fairly worthy distraction but she wasn’t Sydney Hyatt. Not the woman she was meant to be with. How could Sydney bring her here? To make her jealous?

  She exited the Jeep and headed toward the bar as the black convertible pulled away from the curb. Once inside the Pride, Becky draped herself over the welcoming Paula, allowing her body to be pulled onto the dance floor. Her mind, however, still followed the Porsche and her obsession.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Parker lazily kissed Sydney good-bye as she rushed for work. Looming deadlines and back-to-back meetings stood between her and their weekend. An early arrival at the office might buy her some quiet catch-up time.

  “Have a great day,” Syd said as sh
e smiled into Parker’s eyes.

  “See you about seven for dinner with the boys, remember?” Parker had long forgiven Allen when he apologized for the uncomfortable dinner. Once Parker decided he had suffered enough, their friendship had resumed relatively unharmed.

  “I’ll be anywhere you want me,” Sydney answered as she prepared for a morning kickboxing class.

  “Careful, I may never let you leave. I might keep you as my captive sexual servant,” Parker teased as she dragged her briefcase out the door.

  When she crossed the lobby, she passed a neighbor coming through the outer door, on his way to his accounting office.

  “Good morning, Charlie.” Parker smiled. She held the door for him as he negotiated a tall stack of files.

  “Good morning, Parker,” he returned. “Have a great day.”

  It was already a great day.

  Parker attacked her to-do list and as the pile of work decreased, her mind wandered over the past few weeks. Their night at the Pride was the first time Syd had referred to her as her girlfriend—as her anything, really. She felt the shift as she forgot her initial intention to be just casual. That night confirmed that Sydney thought they were anything but, although Parker still wasn’t ready to expose her heart.

  Weighing the risks against the rewards eclipsed her drive home. She was determined not to let fear consume her but she would never be crippled by a relationship again. The quest for balance seemed daunting only until Sydney’s face crept into her mind; then it was simple. Sydney felt like home. She changed and fell happily against her sofa.

  A few minutes later, she heard Sydney’s knock.

  “You’re here early,” she said as she slid open the door.

  “And here I thought my visit would be a surprise,” Becky mocked as she skidded deliberately through the opening into Parker’s loft, closing and locking the door behind her.

  “What the hell?” Parker said as she stepped back, momentarily stunned by the forced entrance. “How did you get into the lobby?”