“Why do you want to know?” Keira asked, surprisingly concerned about why her friend would want to know about Emma’s appearance.
“It’s a cool name. I was curious.”
“She’s…” Keira thought about how best to describe Emma to her friends. “She’s attractive.”
“Attractive?” Hillary asked. “I don’t know that I’ve heard you ever describe a woman as attractive.”
“Of course, I have.”
“No, it’s usually beautiful or gorgeous.”
“Sometimes, sexy or hot,” Greene added. “And all the other stuff too, like smart, funny, and blah, blah, blah.”
“She’s attractive. What else do you want me to say?”
“It’s been a while for you,” Greene pointed out. “Is she on our team?”
“I hate when people refer to human sexuality like it’s a game: we’re on one team and the heterosexuals are on the other. It makes it seem like it’s us versus them,” Hillary said.
“Sometimes, it is,” Kellan replied.
“Maybe, but it’s not exactly helpful. It makes bisexuals somewhere in the middle. We’re not on one team or the other in that scenario. There aren’t many games where three teams play against each other.”
“There’s golf,” Greene offered with a smirk.
“Golf? Really?” Hillary rolled her eyes.
“You could be the umpires or refs,” Kellan added. “God knows we need them sometimes.”
Hillary was the lone bisexual of the group. She also had a Ph. D in Sociology with a focus on Women’s Studies. It had been a long-running joke between Greene and Keira, and now Kellan, that the bisexual had focused on Women’s Studies while the lesbians in the group had chosen wildly different careers. Greene, it always surprised people, played violin in the San Francisco orchestra. She’d gone to The Boston Conservatory at Berklee on scholar-ship and lived there until she was twenty-five, taking odd music teaching jobs to make ends meet while she continued to improve. Before long, she’d gotten a job back home in San Francisco. She’d been with the orchestra ever since but still took teaching jobs because the orchestra didn’t pay enough to live on. She also worked as a sound engineer at a local recording studio and picked up some recording jobs as they popped up. She could be heard in the background of a couple of newly released albums. Kellan was a veterinarian, but she’d gotten a late start to vet school because she had to save money first. She’d only graduated a few years prior and was just starting to get into her career.
“Anyway, back to the point,” Greene insisted. “Is she on team gay, team straight or team golf?”
Hillary tossed a peanut at her from the small bowl on the table.
“I don’t know. It’s not like I start every business meeting with that question,” Keira answered.
“Gaydar on the fritz?” Greene pressed.
“It wasn’t exactly on my mind.”
“Please. It’s always on your mind,” Greene said.
“It is not.”
“You met an attractive woman at work and didn’t give a second thought to the question of her sexuality or availability?” Greene doubted.
“I guess I thought about it for like a second,” she admitted.
“And?” Greene asked.
“And I don’t know. She could be, but she might not be too.”
“So, not an obvious gay?” Hillary asked.
“Not an obvious straight either,” Greene pointed out.
“She doesn’t like me anyway. Regardless of the team she plays on or her availability, nothing will happen. She thinks I’m a reckless driver who almost killed her and probably a flighty event planner who shows up almost thirty minutes late to a meeting. I made a great first impression. Plus, she’s a client now, and I can’t date a client,” Keira explained.
“You dated Kellan.” Greene motioned to her side with her thumb.
“Hey!” Kellan took a drink.
“Kell wasn’t a client. The bride and groom were the clients or, technically, the bride’s parents since they paid the bill. That wedding was a side job that paid okay, but this is different.”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t make much on this,” Kellan said.
“I won’t. I had to bid pretty low just to get it, but it’s about the networking and recommendations and getting into more government events if I can.”
“So, was this Emma a bitch to you during the meeting? I’m sure she gets that you didn’t try to hit her on purpose,” Greene said.
“She just didn’t seem that interested. It was like she wasn’t even there. She just moved here. I tried to make small talk and ask her where she was from. She said Chicago. And when I said I’d heard nice things about it, she’d just said it was home. That was it.”
“Maybe she’s a private person,” Hillary suggested.
“Maybe. I don’t know. When I left, I caught her staring out the window of her office, and she just seemed sad, or maybe it was upset.”
“She did just move, right?” Hillary asked. “Maybe she’s just missing her friends and family or something.”
“You should invite her out,” Greene suggested.
“What?”
“Not on a date,” she corrected. “Invite her out with us. We’re going out tomorrow night. When do you see her next?”
“Tomorrow. We meet with caterers.”
“Then, ask if she wants to come out with all of us. It would be a good way to tell if she’s gay or not. You could probably even find out if someone moved here with her or if she came alone. You could totally play it off like you’re just doing a good deed and trying to help her make friends here.”
“But don’t make it seem like you pity her or anything,” Kellan added.
“Yeah, it can’t be a pity invite. It should be that we’re all going and she should go because she’d like it,” Hillary suggested.
“I have no idea what she likes. I spent like ten minutes with her.”
“It’s the Exploratorium. Who doesn’t like the Exploratorium?” Greene asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe she hates museums.”
“Who doesn’t, when there are noisy, sticky kids there always getting in your way? That’s why we’re going to After Dark,” Greene pointed out.
The Exploratorium was one of the better museums in the city. It wasn’t really a museum. It was more a series of science exhibits that were interactive and fun. They hosted After Dark every Thursday night, and it was only for people eighteen and up. There were bars, live performances, and films. The group had taken up going once a month about six months ago since the themes of the event changed monthly, and tomorrow night was their scheduled night to attend.
“They’re probably sold out. You know they sell out in advance.”
“Take my ticket,” Kellan offered. “I was going to cancel on you guys anyway.”
“We’re all assuming she’s interested and not busy,” Keira reminded them.
“Either way, I can’t go. I bought the ticket. If she doesn’t want it, you can give it to someone else.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask, but no promises.”
“Are you nervous or something?” Hillary turned to her. “You seem nervous about asking.”
“Why would I be nervous?”
“I don’t know,” Hillary said. “Maybe because you actually want her to go.”
“I don’t want her to go. I want her to think I’m doing a good job and give me rave reviews so my company stays afloat. If not, it’s back to being a cater waiter or bartending in a place like this until I can figure something else out. I went out on my own. My old job wouldn’t take me back. I kind of took a couple of their clients with me.”
“I think you burned a bridge there, but I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Hillary encouraged and placed a gentle hand on top of Keira’s for a moment.
“Michelle and I worked so well together. We were partners. It’s just hard doing it all myself.”
“I know you don’
t like this suggestion, but you should try to find someone else to work with. They don’t have to be a partner,” Hillary said.
“With what money?” Keira asked. “Michelle and I started the business and didn’t take a salary – which is what a lot of business owners do. But I’m barely keeping it going as is. I can’t afford to hire someone. I don’t think I can convince someone to volunteer.”
“You could try an intern,” Kellan suggested. “I’m sure there are a lot of college students that could use credit. Maybe you could partner with a university or something.”
“Maybe.” Keira finished off her drink.
◆◆◆
Keira climbed into bed that night thinking about whether or not to invite Emma, the new girl in town who probably hated her to an event she was attending with her friends. She considered Emma’s reaction and predicted she would politely decline and wondered if she’d also give her a shy but gracious smile. She wondered what that smile might look like. Would Emma’s eyes brighten or would it be one of those smiles that didn’t reach her eyes? She fell asleep considering what Emma Colton’s smile looked like.
CHAPTER 5
When she put Keira’s address into her phone, she discovered it was outside the city, which was a bit unexpected. She hopped the train and took it as close as she could get to the address. She felt a little embarrassed having to look up the stations on her phone. She’d been so used to Chicago train stations and the train lines, but here, she was still trying to get used to BART. She left the station with a question about her destination because they were in a residential area and nowhere near a place Emma expected a taste testing for caterers. She followed her phone to the address, and it was a two-story house with a little Victorian flair. She didn’t see a sign that indicated the name of a company, but when she approached up the cracked sidewalk, she noticed there was a letter A on one mailbox and B on another. The front door had a sign on it that instructed people to ring the buzzer.
“Hello?” Keira’s voice greeted her.
“It’s Emma Colton.”
“Oh, great. Come on up.”
There was a long buzz sound that accompanied the sound of the door unlocking for her. Emma pulled it open and found herself staring at a staircase and a door to the right. Emma assumed that since Keira said to come on up, she should take the stairs. She headed up, lugging her bag with her, and was met with Keira opening the door a few stairs away.
“Hi,” Emma said and gave a half wave that she knew was a little awkward.
“Come on in.” Keira motioned for her to enter.
Emma followed her through the door and heard Keira close it behind her as she took in the apartment that was clearly someone’s home and not a place of business. There were at least six people moving around in a kitchen and small dining room area that was more a part of the kitchen than its own defined space. Some had chef coats, and others didn’t but were arranging plates and food items on them.
“Where exactly am I?” Emma asked without turning around.
“This is my place. I’m sort of between offices right now,” Keira offered, and then Emma felt her reach for her bag. “I’ll put this over here for you.” She pulled the bag off Emma’s shoulder and placed it on an armchair in the living room that was next to a small futon. “I wouldn’t normally do this at home, but the place we usually use for these kinds of things was booked, and these caterers are homegrown.”
“What does that mean?” Emma asked as she continued to observe her surroundings.
The walls were decorated in a manner that said that this was a house and a home. There were several pictures of Keira and another woman close together; arms around one another. Emma lifted an eyebrow wondering if maybe Keira was gay and was in a relationship with that woman.
“They have their own home kitchens,” Keira explained. “If they get this event, they’ll use an industrial kitchen to prepare everything. But for now, they just make the samples at home. They brought them here so you could see what you like and let them know.”
“I have to tell them yes or no myself?” she asked as Keira moved to stand beside her.
“I’ll take care of that. You just have to sample the food and tell me what you like and what you don’t.”
“What if I’m a weird eater?” Emma questioned. “What if I hate stuff that everyone else loves or vice versa?”
“It’ll be fine. Come on.” Keira nudged her in the direction of the dining room table. As they walked, Emma noticed a few pictures of a man with that same woman Keira had been hugging in the pictures. Maybe that was the woman’s brother. She couldn’t be Keira’s sister. They looked nothing alike. “Okay. Everyone, this is Emma. Are we all set?” A few of the caterers nodded and replied in the affirmative. “Great. I’ll call you all when we’ve made a decision.”
The group of people that had been moving in and out of the kitchen and setting up the dining area began to then file out of the apartment.
“What just happened?” Emma asked once the door had been closed behind them.
“I made some special requests. I don’t really like them breathing down my neck either. I asked them to prep everything in advance, set it up and then head out. I’ll handle the clean-up and let them know what you choose.”
“Thank God!” Emma replied gratefully, causing a laugh to emerge from Keira.
“Okay, have a seat,” Keira told her and pulled out a chair at the table in front of several sample size plates. “I’ve got everything labeled on my end, so I know who made what. I’ll just take notes on your likes and dislikes. Once you’ve tried everything, I can tell you the caterer that would be best. We can narrow down what you’d like them to make and set up a meeting.”
“You’re not trying this stuff with me?” Emma pointed at the food.
“I usually don’t,” Keira replied. Then, she squinted her eyes in a concerned fashion at Emma. “Do you want me to?”
“Please. I’ve never picked a caterer before.”
“Okay. How about you try it and if you’re on the fence about it, I’ll taste it and tell you my thoughts?”
Emma nodded. Keira grabbed a small notebook that she had on the table and the pen that had been on top of it.
“So, just eat?” Emma asked after a moment.
“Just pick up whatever looks good and go for it.”
Emma started with the nearest plate, picked up what looked to be a small shrimp appetizer and gave Keira a thumbs up. This earned her a smile that she thought was cute, but she moved onto the next plate before she could think about it too much. This plate was a small amount of a pasta dish with cream sauce. Emma thought that the cream sauce probably wouldn’t be appropriate for a health fair, but she picked up the fork and slid a piece of pasta into her mouth. She shook her head vehemently side to side and squinted her eyes in distaste. The lemon in the sauce was excessive at best, and she wondered if the chef had dropped the juice of an entire lemon into this small helping of pasta by mistake. Keira shook her head too and laughed. Emma drank a gulp of the water that had been placed in front of her and moved on. It felt strange having someone stare at her while she ate, so she pushed a plate in Keira’s direction and gave her a nod while she ate a piece of warm bruschetta with sundried tomatoes and pesto. It was only okay. Keira took a bite and shook her head no to affirm Emma’s original sentiment.
It continued in this way for about thirty minutes while each dish was sampled and pushed aside. Keira then gathered her notes on the items Emma liked and disliked and determined the caterer she should choose. She pulled up their website on her laptop after pushing away the remnants of their plates and showed Emma their typical menu offerings.
“I’ve worked with Katie a few times now. She’s a friend. She’s great at making custom menus. You just have to tell her what you want. She’ll want you to sample it before the event to make sure it’s what you had in mind.”
Keira leaned in so they could both see the computer screen. Emma found herself wondering
what kind or perfume Keira was wearing or wondering if maybe it was shampoo or lotion. It smelled floral, and it was a scent she recognized, but she couldn’t name it in that moment.
“Sounds good,” Emma replied after Keira’s eyes moved from the computer to meet Emma’s.
“Great.” She smiled at Emma and closed the computer. “I’ll handle letting the others down and tell Katie we need to set up a meeting. How’s early next week for you?”
“Oh, I think it’s okay. I’d have to check my calendar.”
“That’s okay. I’ll just call Mason once I’ve talked to Katie. We’ll get something on the books.”
“Okay.” Emma nodded. “I thought this would take longer. Mason said it was going to be a couple of hours.”
“Sometimes, it does. Sometimes, it doesn’t. I wanted you to plan in case it took a while. Some clients take time to taste everything and list out pros and cons. It’s kind of exhausting.” Keira smiled again. “Thanks for not doing that, by the way.”
“Should I have done that?” Emma asked with a shrug. “I feel like I should be better at this. I’ve just never had a reason for a caterer. At my last job, we had people that did this part.”
“So, no weddings or major life events that required a caterer?” Keira asked and stared at Emma.
“No, no weddings or major life events that I had to plan. My friends Hailey and Charlie just got married. They had a caterer, obviously. I was in the wedding party, but I wasn’t involved in the planning part. I’d been traveling a lot for my old job, so they gave someone else those duties.”
“Let me guess. Hailey did all the hard work while Charlie just wanted to plan the bachelor party.” Keira stood and began stacking the small plates.
“Oh, it wasn’t like that. Charlie was even more focused on wedding planning than Hailey was. But that makes a lot of sense if you know them.” She paused and decided to clear up the confusion. “And Charlie is a woman, so there wasn’t a bachelor party. There was a joint bachelorette party, though, that our other friends planned for them.”
San Francisco Series- Complete Edition Page 4
