Leala Linney Chapter 2

An awkward meeting, to say the least...

“Ah, that was really forward of me. Please accept my apology.”

Leala breaks eye contact, her face heating with embarrassment at the handsome butch’s words. Of course she’s backtracking. Someone like her wouldn’t intentionally flirt with someone like me.

The woman fiddles with the pair of gray slacks draped over her forearm. When Leala looks up again, the woman’s eyes luminesce. “Unless of course, you liked me telling you that dress makes you look like a goddess I would happily fall to my knees and worship.” A jolt goes down Leala’s spine like she received an electric shock. Before she can get her scrambled brain to form words, the butch continues. “Okay, I can’t tell if your reaction means I’m making a total fool of myself or not. Please, say something. Anything.”

“Ah, I, um, you...” An appropriate response won’t form in Leala’s mind. Instead, her brain seems stuck on a loop replaying goddess and knees and worship over and over. The rest of the woman’s words barely register. Is she actually flirting? With me? Desperate for something to do with her hands, she tugs at the neckline again, only instead of pulling it up, she just sort of crushes the edges in her fists and wrenches the fabric this way and that, stretching and pulling in every direction.

“Okay. I’ve clearly made you uncomfortable. Again. I apologize. Have a nice day, ma’am.” And the woman walks away!

Leala is still staring after her when Becky yanks open the curtain and stomps up to Leala, hands on her hips. “Ohmygod! What is wrong with you?” She snaps her fingers directly in front of Leala’s eyes, which finally snatches her attention away from the doorway and onto her friend. “You let her walk away! I repeat. What. Is. Wrong. With. You?”

Stricken, Leala covers her face and drags her hands down, wailing. “Aaaaa! Becky. I really am hopeless! What did I do? She was so hot! Too hot! I think she fried my brain!”

Becky clutches her hand. “Come on!”

Leala’s shoulders sag. “Why? What's the use?”

“We are going to fix this, you hear me? Now come on.”

Leala resists but Becky successfully gains ground. “Oh, no I can’t face her again. I already humiliated myself!” Becky rounds and fixes Leala with a hard stare. One look at Becky’s mutinous face and Leala groans. She knows when Becky gets that gleam in her eye, Leala’s about to get railroaded. “Becky. No. Stop. Please. I’m hopeless, remember?”

“So help me, Leala. You are not going to lose your chance with Tall, Dark, and Handsome under my watch. Now quit fighting me. Move woman!”

Leala stumbles after her friend, her heart pounding. What should she say? Hi there, walking-fantasy. Sorry I’m such a dweeb and made you think I wasn’t interested. What I meant to say was you didn’t offend me and you can worship me absolutely any time, any day. When they reach the shopping floor, her heart is in her throat and she feels a little lightheaded. She anxiously searches the store, her eyes scanning for that distinctive haircut standing well above the racks. Her breath hitches. She raises her eyebrows at Becky. Her friend shakes her head, staring at something over Leala’s shoulder.

Leala turns and her eyes fall on the return rack, where a pair of slate gray dress pants are neatly slung over the hanger. Her attempt at a short laugh comes out more like a sob. “I—I guess we missed her then, hunh?”

“Aw, Leala. I’m sorry, honey. And it isn’t like we can run outside to try to catch her – we’re still in these dresses and they’ll think we’re stealing them.” Becky lays a hand on Leala’s arm. “Are you going to be okay?”

Leala squares her shoulders and inhales sharply. She can’t stand that sorrowful look on Becky’s face, especially when it’s directed at her. And frankly, her happily married friend has been looking at her like that entirely too much lately. Yeah, she’d love a relationship. But being single has its positives. Lots of them. Right? “Of course I’m okay, silly. Clearly it just wasn’t meant to be, you know? Now, let’s go try on the rest of these beautiful dresses!” She marches back to the dressing room, grateful her voice didn’t crack. Get ahold of yourself Leala Linney, old gal. There’s no crying in baseball.

But her heart isn’t in it. Becky picks up on it right away and within minutes they’re at the checkout counter. No matter how much of a fiasco meeting that hot woman turned out to be, the dress was clearly a hit and Leala isn’t leaving without it.

A few minutes later the pair steps out into the late morning sunshine. Becky’s busy picking her way across the torn up parking lot when Leala grabs her arm and mutters out of the corner of her mouth, “Don’t look now, but you-know-who is right over there.”

So, of course, Becky looks up and searches the lot saying loudly, “Who’s here? Where?”

“Shhhh!!!” Leala tries to clap a hand over Becky’s mouth but it’s too late. She freezes, her hand hovering in front of Becky’s face as Salt-and-Pepper Yumminess walks up to them showing her teeth in a huge smile. Leala thinks, my goodness Grandma, what big teeth you have!

“Hi again! Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we start over?”

Becky smacks Leala’s hand away from her face and she slowly lowers it to her side, unable to tear her eyes from the stranger’s. She grins. “Yes actually, I would love a do over.”

The butch’s eyes sparkle as she chuckles. “Excellent.” She clears her throat and thrusts out her hand. “Hello. My name is Phil Montoya.”

Leala holds out her hand and Phil grasps it. Phil’s callouses rasping against her skin send a shiver down her spine. “I’m Leala Linney. So, ah, did I kill your father?” She regrets the words as soon as they come out of her mouth and her ears get hot. Why? Why do movie lines have to come out when I’m nervous?

But Phil’s laugh is deep and rich and it makes Leala’s stomach flutter. “Obviously, you should prepare to die.”

Leala knows her eyes must be huge. Her pulse pounds in her chest. Phil actually got the movie reference? She likes The Princess Bride, too! Her laughter bubbles up and spills out of her in a giddy rush. “It’s really nice to meet you, Phil.”

“And it’s really, really nice to meet you, Leala.”

And how can such innocent words sound so sexy? For a long minute they just stare at one another, Leala’s hand still in that warm, firm grip.

Beside her, Becky’s stomach rumbles audibly and she says, “Sorry love birds, but I’m getting hangry. We’re going to have to move this along. Phil, hand over your phone.”

Leala expects Phil to let go of her hand, but she doesn’t. Instead, she reaches across herself and shoves her hand in the opposite pocket, pulls out a cellphone, and hands it to Becky. She never even breaks eye contact with Leala.

Becky mumbles to herself, her attention on the phone. A few seconds later, she hands it back to Phil. “There. You have Leala’s number. Use it. Leala. I’ll meet you at Costa’s. If you make me wait too long, I’ll eat without you.” And with that, she leaves.

Leala licks her dry lips. Phil catches the small movement and tracks it. Their eyes meet again. What she sees in that look makes her nipples hard. Her free hand flutters around her throat. “Yeah, so I guess I need to go.”

“I guess you do.” Phil lets out a frustrated breath and frowns. “Unfortunately I have to go, too. I’m already late.” She lifts their joined hands and lifts the back of Leala’s to her lips. “Until we meet again.”

Disappointment wars with humor, but Leala manages a small smile. Feeling those strong lips on her skin didn’t hurt. No, not a bit. “Until we meet again.”

Phil releases her hand and Leala dips her head. “Well, bye.”

She’s almost to her car when she hears “Not for long, I can promise you that.”

Wearing a goofy grin as wide as the grand canyon, Leala pulls up "Come to My Window" and heads out of the parking lot. The whole way to the Greek restaurant to meet Becky she sings along at the top of her voice.