Liquid Courage

by Hildred Billings

  By the time she finally reached the apartment she shared with her sister, Vivian was on the verge of frustrated tears.

  “Hey!” Phyllis leaped up from the couch, laptop landing on the nearest chair. “How did it go? I couldn’t believe you forgot a sweater. It’s so cold outside!”

  “Yeah. It’s freezing.” Vivian kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse onto the kitchen counter.

  “So?” Phyllis stood a few feet away, face eager for the deets her sister was sure to spill. “How did it go with your hot internet date?”

  Vivian tried to not look like a kicked dog with her tail tucked between her legs, but it was of no use. She was as pathetic now as she was when she left, only now she broadcasted it on every inch of her pale countenance.

  “Oh.” Phyllis lost her smile. “Never mind, then. Hey, there’s some popcorn on the counter and beer in the fridge if you need it.”

  Yes. Need. Not want. Need. Because clearly Vivian’s evening was shitty enough to warrant a visit to Popcorn Town and Beertopia. Preferably in her room, where she could be alone with her toxic thoughts.

  That’s exactly what she did. She grabbed the half-eaten bag of popcorn, a cold beer from the fridge, and the latest issues of magazines delivered earlier that day. Then she went into her room where she curled up in bed and tried not to cry.

  What kind of fool had she been, thinking she could go out with a woman and be wanted? Eat more popcorn. Drink more beer. Calories for days. Vivian was half tempted to seek out validation from her sister, who was more than happy to tell her how cute and healthy she looked, but she also knew that it was empty. She had sought out validation from Shari. Or at least common courtesy: not a re-affirmation that she was everything she already knew she was.

  Ironically, Vivian didn’t think about Kat again until she finally drifted off to sleep, warm in her bed and filled with more alcohol. And when she did think about Kat, it wasn’t about what she said, how she felt, or how well she kissed. It was that glint in her eyes when she sank down to her knees, intent on sticking her tongue all over Vivian’s thighs and deep into her pussy.

  If only Vivian had been ready for that kind of validation that night. If only she hadn’t been too chicken-shit to accept it for the first time in way too long.

  Chapter 4

  “Tell me more,” Lisa said, as soon as she and Vivian sat down for lunch the next day. “I want to hear word for word what that bitch said about my Vivi.”

  Vivian sighed, her half-wrapped sandwich drying out in the break room at work. The law office may have had state of the air equipment and enough heating and air conditioning to make everyone happy, but a break room was a break room. God only knew the last time this table was truly disinfected. “She said that I lied about my appearance on my profile.” She rubbed her temple. That last beer before bed had done her in, and she woke up with a mild hangover that almost made her call out sick. Yet everyone knows I went out on a date last night. They would think I was drunk on something else. The office had a policy of not asking for details when someone called out sick. If Vivian wanted to burn up her limited sick time on pussy, then she could certainly knock herself out. But the rumors would be ripe! “That I did it on purpose to catfish her. Wait, she didn’t actually use the word catfish, but that’s what she implied.”

  “Oh my God.” Lisa, with her acrylic nails waving in the air and golden curls tossing about every time she expressed even a hint of emotion, looked like the old dancing Furby Vivian had as a kid. All the office needed was another Lisa to create a shitstorm of screaming animatronic dolls. “Did I, or did I not, vet your profile last week when you put it up? You look exactly the same!”

  “She had a point, though…” Vivian held her sandwich up to her lips, but couldn’t bring herself to take a bite. “I used an old picture, from before I was sick. I should’ve taken a more recent selfie. She said she always puts up a new picture every time she slightly changes her look…”

  “That’s insane! How many people out there have profile pictures of their old hairstyles, for fuck’s sake? Do you know how many guys I’ve gone out with who have the exact opposite facial hair as in their pictures? Like every damn time! Sometimes it really sucks, too, ‘cause a lot of guys really can’t pull off the goatee. Yuck.”

  “I really did lose a lot of weight, Lisa.”

  “Sure you did. But that was months ago. Doesn’t your profile even say you’re getting back into dating after being sick?”

  “I took that off, because I thought people would think I was contagious or something.”

  “Whatever, Vivi. Forget about that asshole. She was projecting some serious insecurities onto you. It’s all on her.”

  “It still really sucks.”

  “Of course it does! So we sulk about it, then move on! Come on.” Lisa popped a plastic straw into her can of Diet Coke, fresh from the office vending machine. “Who’s next on the date list? Who else you got lined up for this weekend?”

  “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “Come oooon. Surely, there’s someone out there who wants to bang ya. You know I’m a picky fuck on regular dating apps, and even I can line up at least one date a week.”

  Vivian put her untouched sandwich down. “No, what I mean is that I can’t just bounce back like you can after a bad date. You know my self-esteem was all but ruined after being sick. After a date like that? Fuck me.”

  That’s what she had almost told Kat the night before. “Fuck me.” Vivian tucked her long hair behind her ear as she remembered those big brown eyes once more. Yeah. Fuck her. Against the wall.

  Vivian swallowed. Lisa ignored her.

  “There might have been someone else last night.”

  Lisa lightly choked on her Diet Coke. “What was that?”

  “At the bar. I told you it was a big lesbian hangout. There may have been someone else there who was interested in me. Or at least interested in a hookup.”

  “Giiiiirl. Spill.”

  Vivian wasn’t comfortable fessing up to going home with the bartender right after her bad date. How desperate did that sound? What should she divulge, if anything at all? “Someone overheard the stuff that woman said and took pity on me. That’s all it was. She pitied me.” That was a better explanation than the other one Vivian had: that Kat wanted to take advantage of her poor emotional state. An easy lay. That was me.

  “Did you get a date out of it?”

  “No. I bailed before it could go any farther.” That was the truth. “I just wanted to go home and pass out with some Netflix. Hanging out with my sister sounded better than hanging out at a bar by myself.”

  “Next time some shit like that happens, just text me and I will be right over.”

  Vivian forced a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She thought about Kat for the rest of the day. Hell, she had been thinking of Kat since she woke up that morning with those heavy kisses still on her lips. I could’ve slept with her. I could’ve had sex. I could’ve done that to myself. That was the problem. Vivian thought of it as something being done to her instead of a mutual action. She may be a self-proclaimed pillow biter, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be a passive tuna fish in bed. She wanted to give just as good as she got… and she didn’t think she could be that fair with Kat last night.

  What would they have done after what happened in the hallway? Go to bed? Where Vivian would lay there and let whatever orgasms came, come? Where Kat would get what she could? Where Vivian would ask for a drink because she hated herself that much?

  Everything about last night had been a mistake. But while Vivian worried about her own feelings, she failed to really consider Kat’s, who must have been pretty put out that the woman she brought home from work bailed on her before the main event.

  Her boss chastised her for looking too glum in the main office. Clients could see her, didn’t she know? Those clients didn’t want to see a pretty, albeit gloomy woman looking like the sorriest sack of shit in the world
. That was about as attractive as Lisa coming to work with no makeup on!

  I hate my private life. I hate my professional life. Vivian quickly fell into that spiral of self-admonishment, as if she could berate herself into suddenly being a better person. But every time she really hit rock bottom at her desk, or while out running errands for her bosses the big, hotshot lawyers, she remembered the sweet smile Kat had offered her. A smile she probably didn’t often bestow upon anyone.

  She had been cute. Okay. Not cute. Hot. Smoking hot. Whether she wiped down counters, waited at a bus stop, or slammed Vivian against the wall, Kat was the kind of woman who intimidated the shit out of people. She knew her own self-worth. She had nothing to answer for and everything to conquer.

  Vivian had encountered lots of women like that on the dating site. Shari had also been one of them. It just happened that Shari was the first one to say anything and put ideas into Vivian’s eager head.

  “Hey.” One of the lawyers walked up to Vivian’s desk and dropped a stack of manila folders in front of her. “I need these delivered to the courthouse immediately.”

  Vivian glanced at the clock on her computer. “But it’s 4:30…” She was off at five, sharp. These lawyers often worked later (or got off waaaay earlier,) but Vivian would be damned if her shitty boss would make her run deliveries when she was off the clock. Getting through security at the courthouse alone could take fifteen minutes.

  “You don’t have to come back today. Just get these delivered as soon as possible, otherwise we’re dead in court tomorrow.”

  Well, in that case…

  Vivian packed up her bag, shut down her computer, and waved goodbye to Lisa on her way out of the office. Maybe the fresh air on the five minute walk to the courthouse would help clear her head of its toxicity.

  The drop-off was made in record time. Vivian didn’t have to do anything but plop the folder into a man’s mailbox with a hastily scribbled note.

  Vivian was officially done with work ten minutes early. How often did that happen in the law world? What the hell should she do with this extra precious time?

  She looked up and down the street. Didn’t it look familiar?

  Ah, yes. Because she was in this same neighborhood only the night before. The bar was a total of two blocks away, tucked between an uptown cleaner’s and a shoe store. That time of day, it was probably pretty slow, if anyone was there at all. It was a miracle the place was open.

  Was Kat there?

  Vivian dug for more of those stickies she carried in her work bag. They always came in handy, like at the courthouse when she dropped off a message. Now she scribbled a new note.

  “Kat,

  I’m sorry about last night. I feel really awful about it. You were so nice to me, and all I did was get your hopes up and waste your time – as if I don’t know what that feels like, right? Hope you can forgive me. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Vivian was sorely tempted to leave her phone number. No. Don’t open yourself up to that disappointment. If Vivian didn’t leave her number, then she would never have to be disappointed when Kat inevitably failed to contact her. Better to end things with a fantasy.

  Damnit. Wasn’t a fantasy what started this?

  ***

  “So she was at it again?”

  Kat leaned back in the manager’s chair. The paperwork she spent the last fifteen minutes pouring over was already forgotten. “Who was at it again?”

  Beverly, the owner of such a fine establishment, had stopped counting the bottles on display above the bar. Now her attention was purely on Kat, trapped in the back office with only the music on her phone and a whirring heater to keep her company.

  “Shari. Who else could I be talking about?”

  Sighing, Kat bent back over the paperwork and pretended that was much more enticing than talking about last night. First Shari comes in here, breaking someone else’s heart, and then that broken heart tries to go after mine. Kat wasn’t heartbroken, no, but she was disappointed. How else could she describe that sinking feeling after Vivian bailed on her last night?

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “You need to ban her from this place.” Kat slammed her pen down and rubbed her eyes. “She’s driving away customers because she can’t keep her shitty opinions to herself! I’m tellin’ you, Bev, that woman is a poisonous gray cloud around these parts.”

  “Sounds like you still hold some hard feelings.”

  “I do not.”

  Beverly went back to counting their rum stock. “Kinda amazing, really. You’re one of the first hearts she broke, and now she doesn’t even remember you enough to…”

  “Shut up, Bev.”

  “Right, right. Forget I said anything.”

  Just what Kat needed. Her own boss reopening that old, bitter wound. Because it wasn’t bad enough that Shari was a constant sore on Kat’s ass, but Shari’s latest victim had also dumped her last night!

  Nope. Kat wasn’t bitter. Seriously. She wasn’t. Not like she had made other plans. That bit about maybe going to see someone else last night was a big lie. In truth, Kat had to be up early to do some extra work over at the docks. That coincided with her afternoon shift at the bar. Really. Vivian had done her a huge favor by letting her get to bed early. Even though Kat spent most of the night tossing and turning, going over everything she had done that may have possibly sent Vivian screaming. I’m not rusty. I’m not. Stop it, brain. So what if Kat hadn’t seduced someone in months? Okay… a year? So what if she was choosing to focus on her everyday life instead of dating? After years of fruitless searching for a good girlfriend, she had joined the thirty-something club of “if it happens, it happens.” That’s how she was told it always worked. The moment a woman stopped looking, love fell into her lap.

  Yeah, right.

  Shari was one of those women she thought she had something with. Once, long ago, before anyone even knew the name “Shari” and everything it entailed. They had gone out three times, each time falling into bed with mirth and hope that this could lead to something more. Kat had let her feelings blossom into something more, all right. Because when Shari dumped her because she was “a bigger butch than I’d like to be seen with,” Kat spent two whole weeks locked up in her apartment, eating ice cream and drowning her bitter-hearted sorrows on booze.

  When Shari emerged several weeks later, it was with a huge chip on her shoulder and a million hearts about to be broken on first dates for years to come.

  At first, Kat had been convinced that Shari was bringing her dates by this place of business to get to her. Then she realized that Shari didn’t remember her at all. That’s how much of a narcissist she fucking was.

  “Welcome!” Beverly called to the only customer to walk in that past half hour. Between lunch and dinner, hardly anyone came into the bar. It was usually a dead zone when the staff did most of the behind the scenes work and occasionally served a light cocktail to friends hanging out and chatting. Since the bar didn’t serve a lot of food, it wasn’t a hip dining spot. “What can I get you?”

  “Actually,” came a familiar voice, “I was hoping to leave this message for one of the other bartenders.”

  Kat looked up from the paperwork again. No way.

  “Sure. Who’s it for?”

  “I think her name was Kat. She was working here last night.”

  Don’t do it, Bev. Don’t do it.

  “Oh, she’s actually in the back right now! Want me to get her for you?”

  Was that pause super pregnant because it was eight months along, or because Kat’s heart thumped in her chest and her throat went dry? I’m a shell of my former self. How quickly things changed in just eighteen hours.

  “No, that’s fine. You don’t have to…”

  “Hey, Kat!” Beverly bellowed. “Someone here wants to talk to you!”

  Kat took a second to reorient herself before pulling her burgundy beanie down past her ears and getting up from the rickety chair. “Be right there,” she
muttered.

  Vivian stood on the other side of the bar, dressed in conservative office wear that was a far cry from the sexy cocktail dress the night before. Nope. Still see her tits. There they were, hidden beneath a frosty blue silk blouse and a black blazer. Had my face in those tits last night. Had things not gone south, Kat would be relishing in the memory. Instead, she had to force herself to look as nonplussed as possible when she leaned against the open doorway and wiped her hands off on her band T-shirt.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Vivian was as white as the papers Beverly shifted around her clipboard. “Hi. I, um… I was just gonna drop off a message.”

  Beverly glanced between them. “I’ll be in the back,” she announced, loudly enough for both women to hear her. “Let me know if you need help out here, eh?” She shook Kat’s shoulder on her way back into the office, where she left the door only slightly ajar and Kat’s music still playing on her phone.

  Kat surveyed the empty bar with mild amusement. “Not sure what she means by that, because this place is hopping enough to be a graveyard, yeah?”

  Vivian let one smile cross her face. “I was worried that maybe you guys were closed.”

  “It’s dead this time of day. I keep telling her she should close up between lunch and dinner, but the boss is stubborn like that.”

  “I don’t mean to interrupt you at all. I didn’t even think you would be here.”

  “Hoping to miss me after you kissed me?”

  The words were out of her mouth before Kat had the chance to cinch them behind her lips. Good job, dumbass. Vivian’s smile disappeared, claimed by the pink blush making its way across her cheeks.

  “It’s not like that!”

  Right. Not like that. Because what happened the night before was a mistake. Right.

  “Sorry. I’m too silly for my own good.” Kat approached the bar, the space she called her own damned domain most evenings out of the week. Well, she wasn’t working that night. She was actually off the clock at… well, how about that? She was supposed to be getting off work right now. Original plan was to go home and get some much needed rest. But this might be more fun. “What can I do for you?”