Business Sense Ch 02 Not A Date

Business Sense

Chapter 2 - Not-A-Date

My text banter with Jenna recovered after Halloween, but Shelby and I had a new source of stress. Opening day was almost upon us.

Shelby had hired two new bartenders, Jeremy and Sue, and one of the

Firebird

bartenders, Roxy, volunteered to transfer. We were sending Jeremy and Roxy to spend a week with Aaron while Sue and I ensured the bar was stocked for opening day, and I took care of the thousand additional tasks, including supervising the sign installation.

The bar's logo was a stylized line drawing of a man standing, his hands behind his back, his head replaced by a donkey's. That logo was to the left of the bar name on the main sign.

The version of the drawing on the menu was a little more detailed - a fairy was watching the man with interest, and below him was his name, written in cursive, "Bottom." I found that more amusing than Shelby did.

When Roxy and Jeremy returned, Christian, aka Erik the Red, accompanied them for our startup. I was pleased that it wasn't Kate, because I didn't want to spend a week avoiding her, but was less so when Jenna told me she'd taken Friday afternoon off to show him around.

Saturday was the grand opening. It felt like a disaster with the number of problems and questions and the demands on our time, but Shelby assured me it was going well. The bartenders were learning their roles and the layouts of the taps, bottles, and cans, but sharing the experienced staff of

Firebird

was a huge plus. We'd only been able to add two craft beers on tap, and the consumption rate was double our estimates. We'd need to restock, and add more craft options as soon as we could. A hard cider on tap would be worthwhile, too, given the number of requests.

Of course, these woes and stresses were all management issues. The axe-throwing lanes were a huge success, and we received very few complaints about the beer or food. We didn't cook, we called in orders to the casual restaurant in the same block, and sent a runner when the food was ready. The arcade had used this method from its launch. The extra demand for opening night slowed pick up times a little, but not enough to cause problems.

Jenna didn't show until after eight, when her work shift ended, and I barely saw her, since Christian spent most of the evening showing her how to throw, his hands on her far more than I thought necessary. The opening day issues became something of a blessing, because they helped keep me from dwelling on my resentment. I had to find a better way to manage the side-effects of my crush on my straight friend, but the distraction sufficed for the evening.

By Sunday we'd managed to overcome most of the difficulties. I was pleased with how the team was coming together. Shelby was clearly delighted. We'd have to be open a few months before we could be certain that the venture was a success, but the start was more than promising.

Shelby and Daniel invited the staff for dinner on Monday. The bar was closed Mondays and Thursdays, so we didn't have to exclude anyone. I expected Jenna to be there, but apparently she was with Erik. I tried to hide my disappointment. I think Shelby sensed that something was wrong, but I really was pleased with the way everything had gelled over the weekend, and after a time I think I was successful in keeping my unwarranted resentment off my face.

There was no reason for me to be jealous. I knew that. Jenna was straight. Erik the Red was an attractive guy. She was between boyfriends. I should be happy for her. I would have been, if I could just get my stupid crush on her under control. Sooner or later I had to succeed in doing that, or I'd have to step back from my friendship with her, and I really didn't want for that to be necessary.

So I worked hard to praise Shelby's idea and everyone's effort, and accepting congratulations in turn. I

did

deserve a lot of the credit for the weekend. I knew I'd done a good job, especially being so young and having been such a complete neophyte when I'd started, only a few months earlier. Shelby had been a great teacher and motivator, but I'd put in the effort, and I was proud of the results.

That realization helped. I began to relax and enjoy the evening. We'd be back dealing with customers on Tuesday, and I was looking forward to it.

Eventually I'd be less hands-on. My job was to promote the bar, arrange parties, ensure that we got the best deals with distributors, manage costs, and facilitate the bar staff's work. It wasn't to change kegs and chase down the coaches. I even planned to work office hours rather than bar hours at some point. But for now, helping everyone through startup was exciting. That would have to be enough for me. If I could focus on the work, I could deal with my feelings for Jenna.

Except...

~~~~~

I'd returned home at ten. I'd driven to the restaurant, so I'd only had a single glass of wine. I didn't know whether the bar staff had continued on to party, but I'd had a stressful weekend and would be working again on the next day, so I didn't want to drink or stay up late.

By eleven I was asleep. So when my phone pinged at eleven fifteen, it woke me.

Jenna: "Are you still awake?"

Me: "Sure."

Yeah, I lied.

Jenna: "Can I come over? Ten minutes?"

Me: "Of course."

I didn't have a lot of time, so I slipped into my pajamas, then started to boil water for herbal tea, thinking that, as late as it was, it would be less harsh than coffee.

The water had just started to bubble when there was a light rap on the door. I opened it, and Jenna stepped inside. I made a cup of lavender tea for each of us without comment, then led her to the couch. She seemed unusually reserved, so I began the conversation.

"You missed a good dinner."

"It was just for the bar staff," Jenna replied.

"I think Shelby would have liked you to be there," I said.

Jenna's gaze kept slipping over my pajamas. They were lightweight satin, in glossy black. I'd bought them on a whim, because they both were and were not my style. The top was a loose cami, but the back was wide weave lace, giving the illusion of being backless but for the lacy pattern. The pants were long, and the set could be worn as loungewear or pajamas, but couldn't

quite

be accused of being lingerie.

"You

were

asleep, weren't you?"

"Just barely," I admitted. "It was still early."

Jenna's eyes travelled over my pajamas again. She grinned. "So this is how you sleep?"

I shook my head, covering a yawn with my hand. "I put these on for you. Whatever the reason you wanted to see me, I was sure it wouldn't involve me being naked. Unfortunately." I caught another yawn. "'Scuse me. I'm not tired, but waking up even after only a minute or two leaves me yawning."

Jenna's eyes seemed a little unfocused. "I didn't really have a reason for coming over," she said. "Chris was going to want to come to my place. I didn't want him to, but I also didn't want him to feel I was slapping him down, especially after he'd paid for dinner. I told him I had to pick something up from you before work tomorrow." She shrugged. "It was a bad spur-of-the-moment lie. I could have probably used Shelby. She'd back up an excuse, but I didn't want her to grill me, and I knew you wouldn't judge."

"You woke me up," I said. "I think I'm allowed some judging. So things are going well with Erik, but not as well as he'd like?"

Jenna rolled her eyes at my use of the name. "Pretty much. I think he's pushing because we only have a few days. And maybe I'm resisting for the same reason, and I don't want to do long distance."

"Do we need wine?" I asked.

"Maybe one or two," Jenna agreed. "I don't have to be at work before ten. I can get an Uber home in an hour."

"I'll see what I can find," I said. There was an opened bottle of cheap red wine in the fridge. It was well over half full, and being cold would probably improve its flavor

Stretching, I folded my arms together over my head before standing, Jenna's eyes widened at my movement.

After pouring us each a glass of wine, I returned to the sofa.

"So are you dating Erik, or aren't you?" I asked.

Jenna shook her head, chuckling. "I almost called him that once," she said, "and it's entirely your fault."

I raised my wine glass in salute, saying, "Insert Leonardo di Caprio meme."

She acknowledged my gesture with a sip, then said, "I don't think so. He's genuinely nice, but I don't feel anything. Though I wonder after the last few disasters whether anticipating problems is making it impossible for me to connect. Especially since..." she frowned, then tried again. "Especially recently. Not since the..." She paused, as if she wanted to say more, but gave a tiny shake of her head. "I have a decision to make at work, and it's messing with my head."

"What's that? I asked.

"One of our customers runs a small landscaping company. He's doing very well. He doesn't just get inventory from us, he asks my opinion on plant color, seasonal hardiness, how shrubs will look combined, that kind of thing. He says I have an eye for the finished design that he doesn't, and he wants to hire me. It would pay a little more, and be less physical effort, but I get great health insurance now. And I couldn't work with his customers directly unless I get certified, which means earning an associate degree, which takes time... I have a lot to think about. There are too few hours in the day. I don't have time to be thinking of dating Erik, even if I wanted to."

She did look a little frazzled. "I'm sorry you're under such stress, Jenna. I doubt I'd have any advice for you, but I'm always happy to listen."

"Thanks, Fi," she said. "I know you are. It's why I'm here." Then she grinned. "There is one thing you can do for me right now..." She lifted her glass, drained it, and held it out for a refill.

I poured her more and topped up my glass. "There's only one more glass left in the bottle, I think," I said. "Then we'll have to switch to beer."

"I don't want more than that," Jenna argued. "You'll think I'm a lush if I get drunk with you again. Besides, taking a ride alone after dark is risky enough. I'd prefer not to do it if I've had too much to drink."

"You could stay," I said, impulsively. "I can drive you to your place in the morning to change for work. I have an extra toothbrush."

"You mean share your bed?" Jenna asked, eyes narrowed.

"Well, yeah, I don't have a guest bed. I promise to behave. Or I could take the couch."

Jenna's lips twisted into a lop-sided grin. "Will you be sleeping nude?"

Shaking my head, I returned the grin. "I'll keep these on."

"Well, damn," she said, with a mock pout. "Probably for the best. Do you have something I could borrow to sleep in?" She glanced down at her tee shirt and jeans. "Or do you expect

me

to sleep nude?"

"I'd have to reconsider my promise to behave if you did, Jenna," I said. "I have a long shirt you can sleep in."

"Why not?" Jenna shrugged. "It would be nice to have the chance to relax and talk. I still don't want more than another glass, though." She took a sip of her wine. "Hey, call me Jen. Jenna sounds too formal for good friends, and you've always let me call you Fi."

"But everyone calls me Fi," I said. "And you can't pronounce Fiala anyway." I grinned. "Fee-ohla! Fee-yalla."

"Hush you," she said. "I can too pronounce Fiala when I'm sober."

I asked her to tell me more about the landscaping opportunity with Michael, her customer. I asked her if she was sure he didn't just have the hots for her. She said not; he really did use her ideas, and his wife worked in his company. She was sure he'd talked over hiring her with his wife.

That led to talking about Jenna's recent relationships. She admitted that she hadn't really felt close to a guy in a long time, and she was reevaluating older relationships, wondering if she'd ever had much of an emotional attachment. Even the one that had motivated Shelby to throw her a pity party after each breakup.

"I'm not sure that I really had feelings for him," she said. "But we'd been together for months. I thought I'd found someone I could make a relationship work with. But after Shelby's intervention I stopped feeling sorry for myself and realized I didn't miss him."

Shockingly, she admitted - after finishing one final glass of wine that I'd managed to squeeze out of the bottle - that while she liked the way having sex made her body feel, she could rarely come with a partner. She had a reliable vibrator that she could come home to, but found that without it an evening would often fall short.

I didn't offer any advice. She just wanted to vent. I was happy that she considered me enough of a friend that she could speak so openly. She might see Erik again, and she might not. She might not feel the need to avoid him next time. It was all her choice.

My long tee wasn't quite as long on Jenna as it was on me, but it wasn't indecent.

The light was on my side of the bed, so I waited until she was comfortable before turning it off.

We'd only been in darkness for a minute when she spoke. "Hey, Fi, can I ask you something?"

"'Course you can, Jen," I said, rolling onto my back. It felt good to use the familiar name.

"Do you have a type?"

"You mean, who am I attracted to?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"I don't think I'm different from anyone else, gay or straight," I said. "I'm not attracted to many, I think. I'm sure I don't lust after random girls any more than you lust after random dudes. If I have a type, it would be a woman I'm in tune with mentally. Ideas, conversation, someone I can joke with, trade insults with. It wouldn't hurt if she's cute, but the connection is the main thing."

All of which applied to Jenna more than any lesbian I knew. Unfortunately.

"So all those girls at the club, you're not attracted to most of them?"

"Ah," I said, then paused again. "There aren't many I'd want to date. I mean, not that I'd want to have a relationship with, as such. Uh. There may be a few more I would spend time with who I wouldn't say are my type."

"Girls you wouldn't kick out of bed?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," I said. "Though, still, not so many, Which is why I have a reputation of being picky, or maybe stand-offish."

"I thought it was because you needed time to recharge," she said.

"Yeah, that, too," I said. "Might be why I seem to need more of a connection than the players do."

"Is Clare your type?" she asked. Was there a tinge of jealousy in her tone?

"I became friendly with Clare during one of my recharge phases," I said. "It wasn't long after I screwed things up with the girl I wanted to date. By the time I felt ready to hook up with someone, Clare and I were already close, and getting with her would have been weird. We're good together, but neither of us has any romantic feelings for the other."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Absolutely." We'd even talked about it. In an environment like Gabby's it was important to define any situation that departed from the unwritten rules of hookups. If one of us

were

to want something different from the other, it would lead to jealousy or hurt.

As I'd proven.

"Alright," Jenna said.

Within a few minutes I heard the regular soft breathing of a sleeping girl. Turning back onto my side, I tried to follow her into dreamland, but my feelings for the woman behind me weren't making that easy. My bed was full size - big enough for two, but not with much space to spare. I would only need to reach behind me to feel her skin, and very little clothing separated us. Of course she would - and

could

- slap me silly if I were to touch her, and it would fuck up a friendship that was becoming very important to me.

What would happen if she rolled against me in her sleep? Or if I, God forbid, rolled onto her? Would my sleeping self try to act on my attraction to her?

All I could do was focus on tamping down the arousal I felt at having her close, on

not

stroking my clit, which throbbed with the need to be touched, even if only by me. It was over an hour before exhaustion finally caught hold of me and dragged me down.

~~~~~

"I can't offer you breakfast," I said, when I brought Jenna coffee. She'd been very slow to awaken. Now she sat up in the bed, wiping sleep from her eyes, her blonde hair sticking out in random directions. She looked adorable. "At least, I can't offer you breakfast you'd find palatable, unless you're okay with rice, tofu, beans and the like. No bacon, eggs, milk, yogurt..."

"I get it," Jenna said. "If you're offering, I'll try some anyway, we have time, right? If I can take a shower here, I just need to be home by eight-thirty."

"Sure."

I'd woken up early, still uneasy about sleeping beside my straight girl-crush. Fortunately, none of the situations that I'd feared had transpired, so I'd quietly slipped out of bed, showered and changed in the bathroom before making coffee. There was plenty of time for me to make a quick breakfast stir fried rice with tofu, peanuts, fresh ginger, and spices.

Jenna emerged from the shower wearing yesterday's clothes, with wet hair combed straight as I was serving the rice. She pronounced it "surprisingly good."

"Why vegan?" Jenna asked as she took another forkful, with apparent enjoyment.

I scowled. "I hate answering that question," I said. "Virtually every single time I've done so, the questioner used my answer to mock me and group me with vegan evangelical extremists. If I choose to keep a vegan kitchen, and to eat salads if there's no vegan menu option, how the fuck does it impact anyone else's life? I hope you'll be one of the few exceptions."

Jenna was clearly startled by my reaction. "I just want to know more about you, Fi," she said. "I promise not to do that to you."

"Yeah, okay. I'm sorry," I said. "You wouldn't, I know, but seriously, you'll be one of the few. I really don't have a problem with people eating meat. It's how we evolved as a species and a society. What I have a problem with is the corporate greed that promotes individual greed to eat

so much

meat that we're adding fuel to a burning planet. Clearcutting rainforests for cheaper beef herds. Poisoning the oceans with literal shit from chicken farms. I can't affect anything about the situation, but I can choose not to participate. So I do. As much as I can, anyway."

Jenna raised her eyebrows. "That doesn't sound like a belief that should be mocked," she said. Then she grinned. "Though I should have known it would be about evil corporations."

"Isn't it always?" I responded, returning her grin.

She helped me clean up the kitchen before I drove her home.

~~~~~

My office in the new bar had been completed just before the grand opening, but we hadn't had time to move my computer and books, so Shelby helped me move on Thursday, when the bar was closed. We had some teething troubles with the network, but soon I had my own private room with chair and desk. I have to say, I felt proud to have my own office, at twenty-two, only a few months out of college. I wasn't working for one of the Fortune 500s that most business grads drooled about, but that had never been my goal. And those grads who'd made it to one were probably working eighty-hour weeks in a cubicle. They were definitely not drinking craft beer in their private offices.

The beer had been Shelby's gift after we were finished. She drew us two glasses from the closed bar, presenting me with one. She sat in the chair facing my uncluttered desk, with the air of someone with something to say. I waited for what it could be. I'd been distracted since Jenna stayed over on Monday. I would think about how her eyes widened when I stretched, start wondering if there might be any reciprocal feelings on her part, then castigate myself for crushing on a straight girl. Maybe Shelby had picked up on my distraction. And as sharp as she was, maybe she'd figured out that its source was her "little sister."