Mentor Ch 14 Image

Mentor

Chapter 14 - Image

I wasn't sure whether to visit the club on Monday. Anita and Alex had both given me plenty of exercise, and I felt like I needed a post-workout stretch, and to recuperate some. But I decided to go anyway, intending to take things easy. I kept my visits to the dance floor short, and politely declined any suggestions to continue the evening elsewhere.

Margot and Heather were both present. I asked after Cyndy, and her progress at the coffee shop, but avoided any mention of the party. Michelle had picked me up there, and I didn't want to drift into conversation about the later parts of that evening. Quite apart from my problems with the night, Michelle kept band activities compartmentalized for a reason, and sharing anything about her enthusiasms would only lead to rumors.

Tiff and Emma were present, as usual, so I leaned close to Heather and whispered, so that only she and Margot would hear, "I'm going to wander, before Tiff decides I need to find a companion for the evening. I've had a busy weekend."

Margot waggled her eyebrows. "The

good

kind of busy?"

"Oh, yes," I said. "I'm too sore for Tiff's plans for me."

Heather colored at the comment, and stared at her drink when I left the table.

Anita was sitting with the redhead I'd noticed at the party. I waved to her. Anita smiled, though the redhead gave me a possessive frown. Ah well. I bet she

didn't

know how close Anita and I had been two days earlier.

Should I feel guilty about that, like I did over Michelle? I didn't think so. Like the argument I'd had with myself about Gabby's patrons making an implied statement, Anita hadn't taken herself "off the market." She might, if she and Red were becoming a couple, but as far as I knew, Anita was a free agent. She wouldn't have slept with me if her status had changed, especially knowing how I'd felt about betraying Michelle's wife.

Though it might be that she would start dating soon. The thought made me more than a little sad, but I wasn't part of her life, other than as her friend, and I'd already spent more quality time with her than I'd had any right to expect.

Since there was no one else present I knew well, and since I wasn't up for a hookup, the only place that left was the bar. And there was something I'd wanted to do anyway.

~~~~~

I ordered a Golden Dragon. No one was demanding Michelle's attention, so when she brought my drink back, and I'd paid, I said, "Hey, Michelle?"

She looked up, warily.

"I want to apologize," I said. "I mean, I may not be comfortable with what went down, but you were right. It's totally none of my business. I'm sorry for the way I acted, and I'm sorry I was so rude to you."

"Thanks," she said. She blinked a couple of times. "I'm surprised. How are you feeling?"

"Eh." I shrugged. "The problems I have with the situation haven't really changed, but they're mine to deal with. You do what you need, and I'll do what I need. We don't need friction between us. Sooner or later our friends will notice, and then it will be awkward."

Michelle sighed - she seemed to have been holding her breath - and gave me a weak smile. "Thank you," she said.

Someone approached the bar. Another group moved in before Michelle had served them, and by the time she came back over to me, fifteen minutes had passed. My drink was getting low, and Michelle poured me a replacement, saying "On the house," as she set it before me. I thanked her.

She leaned on the bar a couple of feet from me, looking at the patrons rather than me. After a couple of minutes, she said, "You weren't wrong."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I'm not proud of what I'm doing, and it can't last," she said. "There are... reasons, but not excuses. I'll leave it at that. I don't involve anyone else. I don't even

know

anyone I take home. Except I saw you in that dress, and... and I knew it was going to be a good night at the Duck. And you... Well, I'm sure you know you have a good reputation."

"I heard that a few days ago," I said. "I'm still weirded out that anyone would talk about that stuff."

"They don't, really. Not directly. You see how partners react. You see their eyes light up, or hear them commenting that one-night stands are so limiting, and you remeber who they went home with... and a bartender knows secrets."

Val had moved up to the other end of the bar. She gave me a quick grin, glanced at Michelle, then waited patiently, not looking in our direction.

"I'll be back," Michelle said.

Five minutes later, she returned. "Val would like to offer you a drink and invite you to dance," she said. "She didn't want to interrupt our conversation."

I turned to Val and held up my hand to indicate five minutes. Then I turned back to Michelle. "Whatever my reputation," I said, "for the record, I had an amazing night. The gig was great, and the private afterparty was pretty spectacular. It's a night I wouldn't have minded reliving, right up to the point it went off the rails."

I sighed for what might have been. "I just hope you can find a place where you're happier with your choices."

"I do too," she said, "and thanks."

"Did Val already pay for a drink for me?" I asked.

Michelle shook her head. "I told her I didn't think you were ready."

"Good," I said. "I'm not."

~~~~~

I hopped off the bar stool and took my drink over to Val. "Who is this mysterious stranger who offers me a drink? Does she really want to dance? Or does she have designs on my body?"

Val grinned. "One. Val. She's a 'friend' of Susie," she made air quotes, "who's a 'friend' of yours. Two. Yes. Three. Also, yes."

"I don't understand your and Suse's relationship," I admitted. "I'd be happy to dance, but the body thing... that's not happening tonight."

Val pouted. "If I dance with you, might you change your mind?"

I shook my head. "You'd end up calling nine-one-one," I said. To avoid leaving her feeling rejected, I lifted her hand from the bar, placing it into mine. Then I drew patterns on the back of her forearm, gratified to see the soft pale hair there rise to form goosebumps. "Could you hold off on your designs for a week? Find yourself a different dance partner today, and if we're both here next week, I promise I won't make any commitments to anyone else before you and I have the chance to plan. Okay?"

Val's eyes seemed dark as they traveled up from my fingers on her arm to her face. There seemed a slight tension in her voice as she agreed.

~~~~~

Val left, presumably to work her charms on someone who hasn't spent the entire weekend in bed with a partner, and I decided that I was done for the night.

As I stood to leave, Michelle called out to me. "Hey, Kayla?"

I moved back to the bar.

"I'm sorry I involved you in my fucked up life," she said. "I have no excuse, and you didn't deserve it. But right up to that point, yeah. It was pretty spectacular."

I smiled at her, and nodded. "Friends?" I suggested.

"Friends," Michelle agreed, with a relieved smile. She held out her hand and I gave it a warm squeeze.

~~~~~

The conversation with Michelle had both validated my reasons for being angry, and motivated me to forgive myself. I was already close to being able to do that after Anita heard me out and gave me her support on Saturday, but for her to admit that she was in the wrong and that I was the victim of her poor life choices made me less of a villain in my own eyes. I suspected I might even be able to forgive Michelle eventually.

So on Tuesday I was feeling better about myself, and was looking forward to completing the transition that the new hairstyle offered, by letting Elaine dye my hair at my Saturday appointment.

In the last few weeks I'd learned to trust a number of people. Anita, primarily, of course. But also Alexis, Imani, Kennedy, and, oddly, Danielle. Alexis, Kennedy, and others had placed a heavy amount of trust in me.

I'd already learned I could trust Elaine. She hasn't steered me wrong yet, and I didn't want my new look to be conservative. That's why I'd gone to her in the first place. It might take some courage to let her have free rein, but wasn't I trying to learn to have courage?

~~~~~

"So who am I going to be today?" I asked Elaine, when I was sitting in her chair.

"Who you will be is whoever you choose to be," she said, "but how you look... I've made some mock-ups. These are a mix of styles, just to get an idea of colors."

I looked for standard colors that I felt comfortable with and didn't find one. Her options were swirling rainbow colors, individual strands of color, greens, blues, and mixed of the same. One was a dark rainbow, almost like a negative of the bright rainbow swirl, but glossy. Like a turbocharged starling under black light. It was absolutely not me.

Somehow my eyes kept coming back to it, as an example of what I would never be comfortable with.

"I was thinking, maybe red? Or red with blond tips?"

"Oh, honey, no, you're not red," she said.

"Well, yeah, but isn't that why I'm here?"

"I mean red isn't your color. You're cool, not warm. You need to lean into it," She gave me a half-smile. "I think you already know which look I want to recommend, because you keep staring at it."

I looked back at the images again. Surely she couldn't mean the starling. I pointed to it and looked up at her. She beamed at me. "That's the one."

"That is not me at all," I objected.

"It is, hon," she said. "It's completely you. And your hair is the perfect color to pick up the sheen."

I shook my head, and stared back at the picture. It was interesting, that's for sure. It would be the antithesis of what I thought I was looking for. But wasn't the idea that I was making a complete change? That I didn't want to be the gullible girl seduced by a married woman? That I didn't always want a Danielle to take charge of my body? That I didn't need to feel guilty about consensual sex with a girl whom everyone believed to be straight?

It's not like a new style would achieve any of those things, but symbolically, I wanted to chart my own fate. And the more I looked at the picture, the more I could see me rocking the color.

"Oh, fuck," I said. Then I realized where I was. "Oh, God... I mean, oops. Sorry, Elaine."

"It's fine, hon," she said. "Looks like you see what I'm saying. I have to tell you up-front that an oil slick treatment is the most expensive color job on the list, and all of them are pricier than a normal dye. I'm not apologizing for the cost, it's complex work, but you need to know before you get into it"

She told me the amount, and I winced. It was only six weeks ago that I'd blown my budget on accessories. And I'd need to renew the dye.

As if reading my mind, Elaine added, "Mind, you don't need to refresh it as often."

Small comfort, but comfort nonetheless. "Let's do it," I said.

~~~~~

The results were everything that Elaine had predicted. My hair had violet highlights throughout, with the color strengthening at the tips to dark sea greens, close blues and a hint of magenta. In spite of the cost, I gave her a good tip and told her how thrilled I was.

Of course, you can't get a major hair makeover without at least a little wardrobe updating. I spent the evening clothes shopping. When I returned home I sent Anita selfies of the new look and new outfits. Her responses mostly included sparkly heart emojis.

Monday was the first day anyone at the office saw the new hairstyle. There were plenty of positive comments, along with ribbing from co-workers, asking if my car had leaked while I was changing the oil, or if I'd stuffed my head into an aquarium, which to me were more positive than the more straightforward compliments.

In the evening, I changed for the club. My new black crop tee had short sleeves, a neckline that exposed just an inch of the swell of my breasts, but was supportive enough to wear without a bra. My black skirt was mid-thigh, straight-sided but not tight. My medium-heel calf boots weren't new, though I'd always worn them with a longer skirt before, and black sheer hose left only my belly and face contrasting with the outfit. My wine colored lip gloss was also new, though I didn't change my eyeshadow.

It would be fair to say there were a few doubletakes when I arrived at the club. I mean, my appearance wasn't outrageous, or even outside the norm (the hair maybe, but not by much), but given my usual attire not everyone recognized me at first. I picked up a ginger mocktail from the bar.

The band sounded like they could use some practice. Or maybe they needed to tune their instruments better. Some of the chords just sounded

wrong

. I thought about Michelle's band, "Of Darkness." At twice the volume, their hard rock had sounded less harsh than the kids playing tonight.

Both of the house-sharing couples were there: Emma and Tiff, and Margot and Heather. Taking a seat beside Tiff, I sipped the golden fire. Anita arrived after a few minutes, taking the chair between Heather and me. I noticed that Heather's cheeks had colored again, and she avoided looking at Anita. There seemed to be no hostility between them, just some discomfort on Heather's part, but they both joined in the conversation.

"I've been looking forward to seeing this," said Anita, so I stood to give her a quick twirl.

The new look made me feel bolder, too. Which didn't make much sense, but I wanted to take advantage of it. After a few minutes, I leaned toward Anita and said, "Text you tomorrow?" She smiled and raised her glass to me. Then I added, "See you later," to the rest of the table's occupants, and strode over to where Suse and Val had their heads together.

Val jumped as I rested my hand on her shoulder. "Mind if I ask her to dance?" I asked Suse.

"You can ask me directly!" Val interjected, though she smirked at me, while Suse said "Of course not. Take her away," before adding, "Don't feel like you need to bring her back."

"Well, charming," retorted Val as her friend winked at me. I took her hand and dragged her through the dance floor entrance.

Even though it was still early and the dance floor wasn't very full, we gravitated to one of the darker corners where makeout sessions had been known to happen. Not that I was planning to make out with Val at the club, but it gave a teasing feeling to our encounter. And I felt sure I hadn't been the only one guiding our steps to that place. But even if making out wasn't on the table, we danced close enough that her breasts brushed mine. With no bra, the sensation made my breath catch.

Val's eyes held mine, except when they glanced down. Even with my black tee, I was sure that the angle of the colored lighting was causing my swelling nipples to create shadows on the front of my top, and illuminating what my neckline revealed. Val's own pale blue tee clearly showed the outline of her bra in the lighting, ample cups shaping the front of the tee.

Knowing that Val had expressed an interest in me was enticing. Even if we hadn't made plans last week, tonight's encounter had been inevitable. As close as we were, her eyes showed her interest, confirming the rumors Anita had mentioned. I found myself not wanting that bra between us.

Fingers lightly ran over my right breast, out of public view. My breath caught again, and Val leaned close. Keeping her voice as low as she could while still loud enough for me to hear, she said, "If the evening's going to head the way we both seem to be expecting, why don't we leave after this set? It has to be almost over."

"I hope so," I admitted.

Within fifteen minutes, the dissonance ended, and the band left the stage. Val took my hand. "My place?" I suggested as she led us back to my table. "Are you driving? I'll text you my address," I added, when she nodded.

The table now consisted of the two couples and Suse, who was conversing casually with Margot and Heather. Anita wasn't at her seat, and a moment's glance around the room showed her standing very close to the redhead who seemed to have become her constant companion. The auburn-haired girl stood possessively close to my friend. Her body was angled to Anita's, a drink in her left hand, her right thumb hooked into a belt loop on Anita's jeans, their chests almost touching.

I didn't understand the sharp pain in my chest. I recognized it as jealousy, but why would I be jealous? I'd always known the rules. Anita had her own needs, and it wasn't as if I'd be taking her home even if I wasn't leaving with Val.

Perhaps it was that this was the third time I'd seen them together, and they seemed intimately close. It was possible that Anita wasn't so much breaking her own rules as that she had found herself a partner, as I'd suspected. And that would mean no more rule violations with me. I shook my head to dismiss the thought. I didn't want to sour the mood that Val's interest had imbued within me.

Fi intercepted me on the way to the door, catching my arm and winking at me. "Just wanted to say I love that you're wearing my colors."

Val and I gave each other a curious shrug as she turned away. Outside, I keyed my address into my phone, asked Val for her number, and sent her the text.

~~~~~

The parking lot at my complex was not as full as usual, since it was so early in the evening. Val parked only three spaces from my vehicle. I unlocked my apartment and let her in, then followed her through the door. I'd barely made it inside when she pinned me to the wall and fastened her mouth on mine, tugging off my light jacket, then grasping my bare waist, her hands cold enough to make me shiver, and pressing her body to mine.

I pushed her away just long enough to make her remove her own jacket, then dropped my arms so she could get back to her effort. When she joined her mouth back to mine I groaned, hearing an echoing sound from Val's throat. Then her hands left my waist and groped the front of my tee. "God, I've been wanting to do that," she said, barely even breaking the kiss to speak past my lips.

"Mmh," I agreed, muffled by her tongue in my mouth. I pulled up her tee, slid my hands inside it and squeezed her bra, my belly throbbing with excitement as her fingers and thumbs pinched the tips of both of my breasts, behind my nipples. I refused to take the time to figure out her bra catch, so I tugged its straps over her shoulders, loosening it enough for me to slip my right hand inside and fondle the bare skin of her breast. She moaned again into the kiss.

Then she was lifting my tee and tossing it aside. I did the same to hers, and she obliged me by reaching behind to unsnap her bra. I yanked it down her arms before she could get her hands back on me, and caught a glimpse of wide, erect nipples before the closeness of our bodies hid them again. Her hands didn't go straight back to my boobs. Instead, I felt them fiddling with the catch of my skirt, which slid down my legs moments later.

Val yanked my hose down a few inches. Then her left hand cupped my sex, a finger pushing into the leg of my panties, before slipping inside me, while her right returned to my left breast. She pressed her thigh to the back of her hand and began rocking her wrist, making me moan.

I raised my right leg, hooking it behind hers, stretching my hose. Well, ruined hose was a small price to pay. I stood on only my left leg, but was well supported by the pressure of her hand and body holding me to the wall.

My moans into the kiss were constant now. My hips rocked as much as they could while she pinned me in place.

Eventually I had to break from the kiss to gather enough breath. Val's lips moved to the base of my neck. I set my hands on the back of her head and pushed her face down against my right breast. She had to bend forward to reach it, but still kept both hands in position, pressing upward with her thigh.