I entered the boardroom just as the people were on their way out. Beverly Stryker, the head of the magazine, stood at the head of the table from where she had just conducted the meeting.
Dressed in a gray pants suit with white blouse and black pumps, She looked every bit the professional woman. She wore her blond hair in a bun, dangling jade earrings, red lipstick and a hint of eye shadow.
"Your presence was not required."
"I know that," I replied, "but that's not why I'm in here. It's personal."
"Because we haven't seen each other in three days you're angry?" she said.
"You stood me up last night for dinner."
"I had to work."
"You're afraid of us being seen together. You need to leave him."
"I told you I had to work."
"My friends told me that that bi girls are trouble."
"Oh so now I'm trouble," she retorted.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."
"How did you mean it?"
"Beverly it's just that I'm missing you. I can't bear sharing you with a man, especially a husband."
The clandestine lesbian romance between Beverly and me had been going on now for almost two months. Being careful, we tried to make-out only in places where we could not be seen. Though she had been inside my apartment, we had never come there together from anywhere. We had kissed in the garage but only after we were both certain the no one was walking to or from their car, or would go by us in their car.
"Nicole," she paused and sighed before continuing. "He and I have to go someplace together. I'll see you tomorrow, definitely."
"Well you better," I retorted.
I left the boardroom still not quite satisfied that all was well between us. The knowledge that Beverly has a husband bothered me. Although women have been known to leave their husbands for other women, I wasn't counting on any such luck. Besides, such occurrences are rare.
The roof over the garage floor left the entire space in a dark shadow. Several cars belonging to employees of the magazine were parked about the place though no one was expected to be walking or driving through anytime soon.
Beverly and I stood at a car with our arms around one another at mid back. Our lips puckered and pressed, withdrew, then pressed again. Mouths opened and tongues pushed at each other. My lips closed down on her lip, opened, then hers closed onto mine. Hands crept downward toward each other's buttocks and pressed.
"Nicole, we've got to stop seeing each other like this."
The grin on her face said "kiss me."
The editor in chief of the magazine backed away one step. I stepped forward and put my hands on her waist. She smiled. We kissed again then parted for the time being.
As she walked away toward her car I said, "Will I see you tomorrow night?"
She nodded then turned away and continued walking.