Sophias Choice Pt 06

FOURTEEN

Back at work, Sophia was approached about working with an intern for two months. The bank had been approached by its office in Copenhagen about taking on two second-year master's students, who were being sponsored in their studies by the Danish operation. Seeing that her office had a smaller office leading off it which was currently being used for storage, Sophia agreed. There were a number of duties that she would be happy to delegate to someone else, notably reading reports and preparing presentations. If the individual was smart and intelligent, as these interns must be, then she could only see the positives of the arrangement.

When Ben, who was in charge of the programme, introduced her to her prospective helper, a young man called Preben, Sophia was less than impressed. She had set her eye on Karina, who had instead been assigned to the Sales and Marketing Director, someone she outranked. Cutting the meeting short, Sophia told Ben in private that she had read their resumés - well, she had glanced at Karina's - and Karina, who had just turned 24, was a much better fit for her office. Ben, who had of course his own very good reasons for allocating the interns as he had done - knew better than to challenge Sophia and told her that he would see to it that things were arranged as she advised him.

The funny thing about the two Danes was that in many regards Preben was more feminine than Karina. He wore his hair long, while Karina wore it short; he wore earrings, while she didn't; he wore stylish slip-on shoes, while she wore Doc Martens; and he was empathetic with high EQ, while her attitude bordered on the autistic at times. For all that, Sophia felt Karina had more about her, that she had a natural business acumen. And, of course, Sophia had a severe case of the hots for her.

Karina wasn't tall and she had a flat chest, but she also had a very pretty face. Because she wore no make-up and seldom smiled (she laughed a lot when she was around Ben, Sophia had noticed), it wasn't the sort of face that would jump out at you from a crowd, but it was a face that had leapt out at Sophia from the moment she had first seen her. Sophia would never claim to have any kind of meaningful gaydar, but she would have been willing to bet a tenner that the Danish girl was gay.

From the moment Karina took up residence in the office adjoining Sophia's, her attitude to her boss was one of courtesy and cordiality but little warmth. No, Sophia corrected herself - Karina showed her no warmth at all. Now this of course represented a tremendous challenge to Sophia. She laughed to herself when she reflected on the fact that she was surrounded by Scandinavian ice maidens: one at home and one at the office. Petsi was proving a tough nut to crack, and now she had exactly two months in which to melt the heart of someone she wasn't even sure had much of a heart in the first place.

Each day Karina came and went - the model of professionalism in everything she did, and, Sophia had to admit, a tremendous asset to her. She had a secretary who came with the job, but, while she was efficient and possessed of a tremendous memory, she was not very intelligent and, as for taking the initiative, it was something she would never dream of doing.

Sophia typically got to the office later than her assistant. At first, she would pop her head round the door of the old storeroom to say good morning and take a peak at what Karina was wearing, but of late she had foregone that dubious pleasure (dubious, because the response was always so terse and cold) in favour of calling out a cheery welcome as she entered the office. As for the Dane's outfits, they didn't vary much, consisting invariably of trousers (sometimes baggy, sometimes more tightly fitting) in sombre shades accompanied by either buttoned-up white shirts (did she get them from the menswear section, Sophia wondered?) or crew-neck long-sleeved shirts (typically black or grey) worn under a brown or grey jacket or shacket, depending on the weather.

After a few weeks, Sophia found herself questioning her clothing choices and considering dressing down a little. She didn't consciously do so, but perhaps she wore her Hillary Clinton-esque trouser suits a bit more frequently than she had done before. She toyed with the idea of taking her intern out to lunch (most days Karina met up with Preben and they took off together to one of the local parks so far as Sophia had been able to ascertain), but was apprehensive lest she be turned down. When she did suggest a Friday half way through her tenure, Karina said that she wouldn't be able to make it, as she had to get her watch fixed. She didn't even bother with any pleasantries such as 'That would be lovely, but' or 'Thanks for the invitation, but'.

One evening, after Karina had left the office with her formulaic 'Bye', Sophia waited fifteen minutes then went round the corner to the old storeroom so she could have a look around and see if there were any photographs, cards, books or anything that might throw a bit of light on Karina's life. She was stunned to find that the door was locked, since she had checked prior to the intern's arrival and observed that there was no key. It was one of those old-fashioned kind of locks with the keyhole you could peek through. This meant either that Karina had found the key in a drawer or somewhere else in the room, or that she had called Facilities Management and asked them to get one made for her.

Sophia considered checking with FM but decided it would seem odd for the CFO to be bothering herself about such minor details. On the other hand, she could get Denise, her secretary, to call them the following day and ask them to provide her with a key to the old storeroom. 'Yes,' she thought; she would do that. She would also ask Denise to check with FM when they brought the key whether they had issued a key to the intern.

Thus did Sophia work herself up into a bit of a frenzy about the unapproachable Dane. As for the key mystery, FM knew nothing about a key. They didn't have any records pertaining to the storeroom at all, except for the recent work involved in its refurbishment. They told Denise they'd come along later that day to take a look with a view to calling a locksmith to replace the current layout with a Yale lock. Hearing this, Sophia got Denise to call them with the news that the intern had found a key in one of the desk drawers and to suggest that, to limit disruption, the lock issue be deferred until the internship was up - now only a few weeks away.

That day came all too soon, as far as Sophia was concerned. That Friday morning, when Sophia called out good morning, Karina responded with more than her customary minimalist grunt. Sophia put it down to excitement at the thought of being shot of her internship, the bank and Sophia herself. Around midday, the intern left her room and, instead of heading out of the office, stood in front of Sophia's sprawling desk. Sophia typed away on her desktop, pretending not to notice her. What she did notice, though, was the subtle scent of perfume, which was wafting towards her from Karina's direction.

Karina evidently wasn't going to blink first; she appeared to be content to stand there until lunchtime, if need be. Sophia made as if to get something from a drawer and in so doing became aware of the intern's presence.

'Ah, Karina, I didn't notice you there. What may I do for you?'

'Ask rather what

I

can do for

you

,' said the intern, channelling her inner JFK.

'Oh!' exclaimed her boss, rather taken aback.

'Tonight, Iben and I are going to a bar to celebrate the end of my internship. We wondered if you'd like to join us.'

Sophia wondered who Iben might be (a nickname for Preben, perhaps), but the main thing was that she'd be getting to spend time with this girl who had been driving her mad, so she was very definitely up for it. She would, however, have to play it cool.

'Well, it's rather late notice. I'll need to sort a few things out first. I'll let you know this afternoon. What time are you thinking about?'

'The bar gets very busy on a Friday night, so it's best if we get there early, say, six thirty. That way we'll have a better chance of getting a table.'

'Okay. Yes, that's quite early, isn't it?'

After Karina had left (she and Preben were being taken out to lunch by some of the young people in the office with whom they'd struck up a relationship), Sophia wished she'd at least asked her for the name of the bar. She'd have to go as she was, she thought, but then she remembered that she had a spare set of clothes in one of the cupboards. She could have a shower in the executive washroom and change into that, she thought. But first she'd need to see what it was.

She walked across the room, opened the cupboard and received quite a surprise. When she saw the price tags still on the dress, the underwear and the shoes, she remembered now that she had popped out one lunchtime soon after she got the promotion to treat herself to something sexy. For some reason, the outfit had never found its way home.

'Maybe it's fate,' she thought, going across to lock the door, so that she could try the dress on at once.

It was a figure-hugging silver Thalia mini dress, with a V-wire front and long sleeves, whose sequined mesh fabric was designed to sparkle under lights. Sophia wondered if this bar would have an area for dancing, with disco lights and maybe even a disco ball. She felt incredibly empowered in the dress, thinking about all the men whose head would be not so much turning as spinning when they saw her wearing it. But, of course, it was not the men she was interested in this evening, but the women, and one woman in particular.

Sophia put the dress away for later and called Peter to tell him that she would be out late this evening because she'd been asked to stand in for the head of the intern project, who had been taken ill. Peter didn't believe a word of what she said, but pretended to listen with interest as she spun a tail about dinner followed by karaoke with a couple of the top Japanese executives.

'So,' thought Peter, 'she's trying to tell me that it'll be a late one. Fine by me. Petsi has been dying to show me a new negligee she bought.'

It was, I hardly need to say, a very happy Sophia who took herself off to lunch in a favourite bistro of hers just around the corner. She thought she ought to eat a proper lunch, as you never know what London bars are like for food, so she ordered the three-course set lunch, opting for a starter rather than a dessert. She toyed with the idea of having a glass of Frascati but decided against it. She needed to keep herself in tip-top shape for the evening.

When Karina returned from her long lunch, Sophia asked her if they would be going to the bar together. Karina seemed surprised at the question, telling her boss that of course they would, otherwise Sophia wouldn't know how to get there. Sophia, as casually as she could manage, then asked her if she had brought any clothes to change into or was going as she was. The Dane told her that she brought some clothes with her and would change into them before they left the office. Sophia said she'd order a taxi and asked Karina what time they needed to leave. She said it wasn't that far and 6 o'clock should be fine.

At just after five, Sophia, her heart already beating faster than normal, went off to the executive washroom, which fortunately was vacant. She had brought her change of clothes with her, including the 4-inch heels with a silver glittery mesh upper and an ankle buckle fastening. She was pleased that she had gone for a manicure and a pedicure at the weekend. After showering, she felt like a millionaire dollars, as she put on her outfit, starting with the matching panty and bra set - also in silver. She looked in the mirror to see if her panty line was visible and couldn't be quite sure. The sophisticated side of her hoped not, while the slutty side of her had other ideas.

When she got back to her office at around twenty to six, she put on and belted up her stone-coloured knee-length trench coat, sat down at her desk, made a couple of phone calls and generally looked busy. Ten minutes or so later, her intern closed her door for the last time - leaving the key in the lock on the inside - and walked up beside Sophia, getting closer to her than she had ever been in the past two months.

She was as if transformed. She had changed from her army fatigue style office wear into a dark blue T-shirt with a light blue denim jacket, three-quarter length ripped designer denims and salmon suede espadrilles. Sophia wanted to take her right there and then on her desk! However, being a woman who had learned - at least, to an extent - the virtue of patience, she said it was time to go and lead the way to the lift and thence to the taxi, which was waiting outside the building.

FIFTEEN

Karina told the driver to take them to a bar in Soho called SHE. Although Sophia had never heard of the place, she thought there was an alluring quality to the name. The first thing that struck Sophia on entering the place was how loud the music was. However else the evening turned out, it wouldn't be one where you had conversations that you would remember for the rest of your life. The next thing she noticed were the large number of orange, pink, and white flags, which decked the walls but did little to offset the overall spartan nature of the décor. The bar was so small that it appeared to be close to full even at such an early hour. In sum, then, Sophia, who rarely went to this sort of place these days, was pretty underwhelmed. Her first impression (which didn't change during the course of the evening, even if her overall disposition certainly did) was that the place was a bit of a dive.

Karina led Sophia across the dance floor, which was already well patronised, to a small table against the wall, where a young woman was sitting. The Danish girl almost had to shout to tell Sophia that this was Iben, who was from Norway and currently studying in London at King's College. She must have been around Karina's age and was very pretty, her long hair, which was lighter than Karina's mousy shade, framing her oval face. Her ready smile, which revealed teeth that an American would have been proud of, indicated that she was of a less lugubrious disposition than her fellow Scandinavian. She was wearing an ivory blouse with lacy cuffs and a front button loop closure, of which the top three or four loops were undone. She had paired this with stylish faded straight denims and white pumps with a moderate heel. If this was, as Sophia suspected, Karina's girlfriend, then she was undoubtedly the femme.

Before Sophia sat down, she took off her coat, reasoning that it would be safe being left at the table if there was always one person around to keep an eye on it. While Iben immediately complimented her on her look, Karina pretended to take no notice and started conversing animatedly with Iben, helped by the fact that there was a break in the music. The reason for this was that the DJ was about to start her shift. Sophia couldn't tell where she was stationed exactly, but reckoned it must be at the back of the room somewhere.

Realising that no one had anything to drink, Sophia butted into the younger women's chat to ask them what they would like. She had seen people queuing at the bar, so imagined that was the way things were done. As soon as Iben understood what Sophia was talking about, she was most apologetic and said that Sophia was their guest and of course they would get the first round. Sophia said she'd have a gin and tonic and watched as Iben (taller than Karina) slalomed her way through the crowd to the bar. Karina took the opportunity to speak with Sophia, indicating her desire to do so by putting her hand on her erstwhile boss's sequined arm.

'I want to thank you for coming at such short notice,' she said, with more warmth than she'd shown in the entire two months of her internship.

'I wouldn't want to see you go without saying goodbye properly,' replied Sophia.

Then, looking around at all the women dancing in the central open area of the bar, she added, 'This is a lesbian bar, isn't it?'

Karina drew closer to Sophia - so close that Sophia thought that she might be going to kiss her - and said, quite softly, given the circumstances, into the ear that the older woman, turning her head, was offering her, 'Yes. Do you mind?'

Sophia blushed and felt her body stiffening, even as she sat there with her legs clamped firmly together. Karina's hand was still on her arm. Iben must still be in the queue of people waiting for their drinks.

'No, I don't mind,' she managed to reply, so softly that Karina may not have heard the words.

She understood the older woman's intent, though, and returned to her former position, then looked at Sophia and smiled a beautiful smile. Sophia's heart missed a beat and it was all she could do not to jump on the girl and violate her.

They each sat there without speaking until Iben returned with the drinks a few minutes later, complaining about the shortage of bar staff. As far as Sophia could make out, the Danes put it down to first Brexit, which had seen so many Europeans who used to fill menial positions leave the country, and then Covid, which had made locals loathe to work in customer service when they could do better on handouts.

'Too true,' thought Sophia, as she reflected on the problems the bank had been having filling positions with well-qualified, motivated and ambitious Brits.

After a while, Iben and Karina took to the dance floor, where Sophia soon lost sight of them. By this time, seven fifteen or so, the bar had filled almost to bursting and Sophia could sense that revellers were eying the two spare seats avidly. One of these women bent down and asked Sophia if she could sit down for a while. Not knowing the protocol, but not wanting to cause a scene, Sophia said 'sure' and the woman brushed past her to occupy the seat were Karina had been sitting, making a point of placing her hand on her knee as she went by.

'You're new here, aren't you?' said the woman - a classic lesbian type of around 45, with spiky dark hair, a baggy T-shirt, black jeans with turn-ups and Doc Martens.

'Yes,' replied Sophia. '

That

obvious?'

'You'll get hit on by a lot of dykes wearing that outfit!' the woman said in an accent that identified her as a Londoner of working class or perhaps lower middle class origins.

'Are you hitting on me, then?'

'Nah. I know you're with those skinny Danish birds.'

Sophia laughed and asked the woman her name. She was called Michelle. When Sophia introduced herself in return, Michelle harumphed and told her that she could now understand why the girl had the hots for her. Intrigued - naturally enough - Sophia asked Michelle when the girl had told her this.

'Nah, she didn't tell me; it was the other one, the one with the long hair. She told me her friend worked with this blonde bird but she didn't think she was interested in her, maybe because she was married and all. Anyway, I see they got you down to this den of iniquity finally.'

Seeing Karina and Iben returning to the table, Sophia thought it was the least she could do to ask Michelle if she wanted a dance. After all, that was what just about everyone at the bar did, and in all honesty there wasn't much else to do. Michelle accepted and Sophia took her hand and led her out the few paces that were required to be among the bobbing throng of dancers. They found a spot and cavorted together to the loud music, both of them shaking it about and generally having a good time.

Sophia was the only woman in the bar, as far as she could tell, who was dressed so glamorously and so sexily. She laughed when she thought that the other women must think either that she was a straight woman out for a thrill or a particularly femme lesbian on the make. In a way, she thought, she was a bit of both. They danced together for fifteen minutes or so, attempting conversation in the way you do when you're dancing and feel the need to be saying something from time to time. Sophia didn't understand what Michelle was saying and she imagined Michelle was in exactly the same position.