Crazy For A Geek Girl: A Lesbian Romance

by Nicolette Dane

  And with that Kate slipped out of my office. My heart had sunk. She had only increased my worry about escalating things with Henry and that mixed with the intensity to come at work, I could feel my anxiety levels increasing by the second.

  *

  Henry and I texted throughout the week but we didn’t see each other. I was worried about what the outcome would be if we continued our tryst, but I had yet to confide that in her. My plan was to avoid face-to-face contact with her for a couple days while I figured it all out in my head. And it didn’t help that I was completely buried at work with preparation for the new account. Henry was sweet and empathetic about my stressful work life, not in the least bit worried it seemed that we couldn’t make plans to get together that week. Meanwhile, I was torn up inside.

  Kate’s little speech about Henry being a geek and not being right for me really brought me down. I know it was completely unfounded and I know it was against my feelings, but I couldn’t help but let it upset me. It made me want to crack open a bottle of wine and chug the entire thing. I actually thought about doing that for a split second, it was certainly tempting, though I knew I’d be better off if I just left the booze on the shelf.

  Another Friday evening was upon me, my brain feeling absolutely fried from the hectic workweek, and I was trying to finish up the layout on a PDF so I could send it to operations for approval. As my eyes began to cross from looking too deeply into the monitor, my phone started to buzz on my desk. Looking down, I noticed a text from Henry.

  “Hey,” she texted. “Movie tonight?”

  “Still working,” I typed back. “Don’t you have your game?”

  “I want to see you,” she typed. “Game can wait.”

  I gazed down at my phone, my heart heavy, wanting so badly to see her but afraid of what the outcome would be. As I contemplated what I could write back to her, I felt a presence lingering in my door. I looked up and spotted Trevor, a smarmy-looking playboy type, expensive striped button-down shirt, his hair receding but slicked back. He was our COO, responsible for keeping all the parts of the organization moving, lead on all dealings with clients and investors, and the kind of guy who seems really cool at first but a bit of a creep the more you get to know him.

  “Netty,” he said casually, leaning against the doorframe. In his hand was a martini. Fridays after 5PM was always cocktail hour in the office, which was mostly taken advantage of by the people who weren’t responsible for all the heavy lifting. He hoisted his glass at me and smiled. “Can I make you a vodka martini?”

  “No thanks,” I said. “I’m still working on this PDF.”

  Trevor slinked into my office, his grin dripping off the sides of his face. I knew he had a thing for me, and even though Trevor certainly knew I was a lesbian, he persisted with laying on the charm whenever he had me alone. He brought the martini to his lips and took a small sip as he neared my desk. Then he sat on the edge of my desk, one leg on the floor and the other hanging off.

  “Staying late?” he asked.

  “I’m hoping not,” I said. “I’m almost finished here.” I tried to avoid eye contact with him, opting to instead focus on my screen and at least pretend like I was getting work done.

  My phone buzzed once more and I looked down at it, seeing that Henry had texted again. I didn’t reach for it to check the message however, keeping focused on my screen to see if I could get rid of Trevor.

  “Annette,” said Trevor, adjusting himself there on the edge of my desk. “I’m here to talk to you about this thing you’ve got going on.”

  “What thing?” I asked, looking up to him, probably appearing like a deer in headlights. “This presentation?”

  “This thing,” he continued. “With someone from our IT contractors.”

  I took a deep breath and pushed my mouse away. My eyes moved from my screen to meet with Trevor’s.

  “I don’t like to pry in the personal lives of employees,” he said, swishing his drink around in the glass. “But it’s not very appropriate to get involved with one of our contractors. It could cause problems down the line.”

  “I understand,” I said. “How did you hear about this?”

  “Word gets around,” he said. “I run this office and I’ve got a good grasp of what’s going on.” He sipped his martini.

  “Things are very discreet,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “See to that,” said Trevor. “You’re close to making partner here, Netty. Another couple of years and you could be an owner with the rest of us. You don’t want to screw that up.”

  “I agree,” I said.

  “Let’s just keep this all between us,” he said, standing up from my desk and straightening himself out. “We don’t need to get HR or anyone else involved with this. Just exercise caution and don’t do something unadvised if you value your position here.”

  “Got it, Trevor,” I said with a forced smile. “Anything else?”

  “A drink?” he asked again, showing me his glass.

  “I can’t,” I said, motioning my head toward my monitor. “Work to do.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said. “Evening.” Trevor turned from me and made his way out of my office, ambling through the cubicles of some of the other client service employees, all of which who had already gone home. It was dark outside the office windows, a one of those oh so lovely perks of winter, and the skyscrapers of Chicago’s downtown Loop had become ablaze with little lights in little offices filled with little people like me, still working on a Friday night.

  Once Trevor was out of sight, I quickly grabbed my phone and unlocked it to read Henry’s message.

  “So…?” was Henry’s message, written there in my text message app.

  “Not sure yet,” I typed back. “Can I text you in a bit?”

  “Sure.”

  I sighed and set my phone back down. The clock on my computer told me it was nearing 6PM. I shook my head and returned to my work.

  *

  Walking down my snowy street, I tightened my coat around myself and clung to my leather bag, increasing the speed of my gait as I drew closer to my building. It was dark and cold out and I was eager to get into the warmth of my condo. As I approached the door to my building, however, I saw somebody standing there near the entrance, bundled up in a black wool coat and a white fluffy hat, a backpack on their back. The person turned to me and as soon as I saw the black frames on her face I knew it was Henry. I almost stumbled when I saw her.

  “Henry,” I said in surprise when I came upon her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you,” she said. “I just wanted to see you and I thought I’d stop by. Why didn’t you text me back?”

  “Oh shit,” I said, looking down and shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I’m just totally fried. Work is killing me.”

  “Can we step inside?” she asked. “I’m freezing out here.”

  “Yes!” I said. “Of course.” I moved past her and pushed my key fob against the door sensor, opening it up so both Henry and I could walk through it into my building’s entryway. There was another glass door to go through once inside and as we got through that, the warmth of the indoors finally hit us. The sudden change in temperature caused Henry’s glasses to fog up and she grinned at me, showing it off.

  “Foggy,” she said, removing her frames and wiping the fog from them with her gloves.

  I smiled and reached out to touch her arm tenderly.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said again. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

  “So do you want to hang out tonight?” she asked, pushing her glasses back onto her face. “Or should I just go back out into the cold?”

  “Well, when you put it that way,” I said teasingly. “I guess I really don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “Let me come up!” she mock demanded, stomping a foot to hammer her joke home.

  “I guess you can come up,” I said coquettishly, turning from H
enry and beginning to walk toward the elevator. I felt a little torn, unsure what this would all lead to. So I wanted to be with her but I was worried.

  “Wait for me!” she exclaimed, scurrying after me.

  *

  We removed our winter gear together in the foyer of my condo, hanging up coats, slipping out of boots and setting them on the mat to dry, pulling off gloves and scarves and all that. Henry set her backpack down near the door. Although I had a pit of anxiety building up inside of me from all the negativity I’d been feeling at work, seeing Henry made it all almost dissolve. Almost. Although my passions were cranked up by just being near her, the logic in my brain was trying to figure out what my body was doing.

  Henry scooted in further to my condo wearing dark green surplus-style pants, tight against her legs and tucked into some heavy-weight wool socks, a white button-down blouse splattered with colorful floral prints up top, and she kept her winter cap on her head. I felt so drained from my day, even as I watched how animated Henry was, and I craved a glass of wine. But I had gotten rid of all the alcohol in my condo, so I simply resolved to let that craving pass.

  “Did you have a good day at work?” I asked her, following her toward the living room.

  “Yeah, fine,” she said. “I was at my office all day just doing remote stuff. I love the days when I don’t have to leave the office to go to a client. It’s far too cold out anyway to be running around the city.”

  As Henry eased herself down onto my couch, I continued on through my condo and into the kitchen to put a kettle of water on for tea, taking out cups and teabags for the two of us.

  “Honey?” I called,

  “Please!”

  Armed with our mugs, steaming with the hot water, I moved back into the living room and put our tea down on the coffee table. Henry beamed up at me, her glasses halfway down her nose. I smiled at her with a bit of pain.

  “Is everything okay?” Henry asked me, her face changing to mirror mine.

  “Henry,” I said softly, sitting down next to her, our legs touching. I gently placed my palm on her thigh.

  “Oh no,” she said. “I’ve been in this situation before.” She slid away from me slightly and had a defensive look in her eye. “You’re going to end this, aren’t you?”

  “I just—“ I said, searching my brain for my words. But I felt so strained that it was difficult to figure out what I was trying to communicate. I didn’t even know where I was going with this. “I like you, Henry. I’m crazy about you. But—“

  “But…” she said, interrupting me, raising her brow.

  “I’m worried,” I said. “I’m worried about work and how this,” I said, motioning back and forth between us. “Affects our relationship at work.”

  “But I barely even work with you,” said Henry, her body still standoffish. “I mean, I’m at your office once every six months, sometimes not even that, and it’s pretty much always at night or on a weekend.”

  “I mentioned you to one of my coworkers,” I said. “And then word got around to my boss, who told me that it was pretty much a bad idea for our two companies were you and I to get involved.”

  “I don’t believe it,” she said. Her voice cracked slightly and I could see her eyes growing watery behind her glasses. “I don’t even get a chance?”

  “I don’t want it to be this way,” I mourned.

  “So why did you even invite me up?” she asked. “If you were just gonna dump me?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Obviously I was of two minds. The words that had been coming out of my mouth seemed distant, like they were being spoken by someone else. Me, my voice, Annette, she wanted to spend the night with Henry and laugh and kiss and be joyful. But this other voice, this unfamiliar voice of responsibility, of guilt, this voice was the one who so suddenly seemed to be in charge of my words.

  After a moment of silence, Henry hoisted herself up off the couch and began walking across the room and toward the door.

  “Wait!” I exclaimed. She stopped there in her socks, pivoting, looking at me. “Henry, I—“

  “No, it’s best if I go now,” she said. “I’m still cold from outside so it won’t be a big adjustment.” She moseyed over to her boots and began to slip into them.

  “Stay,” I murmured.

  “What?”

  “Stay,” I repeated, a little louder this time.

  “Grr,” Henry growled. “So which is it?”

  “I just want to talk,” I said sheepishly. “I want to talk through this.”

  Henry stood there wearing just one boot. After a moment of silence between the two of us she stepped out of her boot and wandered back over to me, her big wool socks stuck to the floor as she moved. Reaching the coffee table, she stood there, arms crossed, unhappy visage on her face.

  “So,” she said. “Talk.”

  “I’m still trying to work this all through in my head,” I said. “There’s so much going on in there and I’m confused.”

  “I don’t know about you,” said Henry in a huff. “Maybe you’re a little more promiscuous than me, but I don’t just fuck somebody on a lark. I had fun with you last Saturday and it all seemed so real and that’s why I got intimate. If I’d known this was just some thing, I never would have done that.”

  “It’s not like that at all,” I said. “Oh, I could really use a glass of wine.”

  “Well, Netty, it sure seems like it’s like that,” she said. “I’m really hurt,” said Henry, pushing a finger up under her glasses to wipe at a tear. “I’ve been thinking about you all week, looking forward to seeing you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you all week!” I said. “I haven’t been able to get anything done, I’ve been so torn up about this.”

  “So what are we doing?” she asked. “Why are you making me cry like this?”

  “I’m crazy about you,” I said once again, sullenly, shaking my head. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” she said, “It can be however we want.”

  Henry could see the sadness on my face and her own face softened. Without another word, she wound around the coffee table and lowered herself back onto the couch, snuggling up next to me. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and her arms threaded around my waist.

  “I’m just in a weird place right now,” I said. “This stopping drinking thing, insanity at work.” I felt a tear run out of my eye as we embraced each other. “I didn’t mean to start it like this.”

  “I know,” said Henry softly.

  “I’m changing,” I said. “I don’t know what’s up with me lately, but I’m changing. Something’s happening.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s like I’m becoming a different person somehow,” I said. “Like I shedding the skin of an old Netty and emerging as something different, a different mind. I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s silly,” I said, looking off.

  “Can we get comfortable?” said Henry sweetly. “Can we get comfortable, order some food — mediterranean maybe? — huddle under a blanket and watch a movie?” Henry brought her hand up and slowly stroked my arm, her head leaning into my shoulder.

  “I would definitely like that,” I said, kissing her gently on the head, feeling a few thin strands of her hair stick to my lip as I pulled away.

  *

  Like the weekend previous, after our little dinner and a movie date Henry and I ended up in my bed, both of us totally bare, rolling around with each other, giggling, pinching, kissing. I was so happy with her, so joyful, she made me feel young. I mean, I know I’m not that old or anything, but after 30 something changes and you just start to feel like an adult. Being with Henry, I felt like I was right back in college or something, exploring other girls for the first time, reveling in the novelty and excitement of caressing the soft body of another woman.

  The lights were dim in my bedroom and I had put on some low music, something a bit dance-y but steady and calm. I sat on top o
f Henry, who grinned up at me, still wearing her glasses, the little steel barbells through her nipples glistening in the faint light. Spreading my hands out, I eased my palms against her skin, over her sides, and slowly moved my hands upwards until I met her breasts in the crook of my hands between my thumbs and forefingers. Feeling the passion build up inside of me, I gave Henry’s tits an arduous squeeze.

  “Ooh!” she squeaked, wiggling under me. “Mmm, do it again.”

  So I did. I squeezed her breasts firmer this time, moving my palms upwards on them until my thumbs reached her nipples, giving them both a swift circular rub, feeling the piercings on my fingertips.

  “Oh Netty,” she cooed. “That’s nice.”

  “I want to taste you,” I lustily intoned, leaning my face down and leaving a sweet kiss on her lips. Righting myself again, I moved a hand to her face and gently pulled her glasses off.

  “I can’t wait,” said Henry, giddiness and excitement punctuating her face. I leaned over, stretching my nude body away from her though remaining in my straddling position, and placed her glasses on the bedside table. “Did you see what I did?”

  “Mmm? What’s that?” I asked with a mellifluous smile. I felt like I was in a different world from my own when I was with Henry. Like some other universe in which only we existed.

  “I musta got into bed too quickly and you missed it,” she said with an impish grin. “Feel me down there,” said Henry, pointing down between her legs.

  Reaching my hand under myself where I straddled her, I eased my fingers into the crevice between Henry’s thighs and felt. Her skin was soft, supple, elastic. Moving my hand further down, I felt her lips, her moistened slit, her warmth.

  “You shaved it all off?” I asked with a laugh. “Why? I liked your fur.”

  “I dunno,” she grinned and shrugged against the pillows. “I thought it would be fun to do. I haven’t done it in a long time.”