Elena
When I opened my eyes, I was groggy enough that it took me several seconds to remember where I was. I blinked a few times to let the room come into focus, and I could see the sheer curtains in my bedroom dancing in the breeze coming through my window. I smiled to myself, remembering that I had brought those drapes to every home I lived in as an adult, and about the only thing from my childhood that I still owned. As I gradually became more awake, I remembered the great time I had the previous night with Tamara, the woman who hadn't wanted to be at that party any more than me. The woman that was absolutely wonderful company, one that I was very attracted to, but also a woman that was married and very straight.
While certainly experienced, I am not an expert in dating and relationships, but I know chemistry when I see it, or more accurately,
feel
it, and I definitely felt it. I could tell that Tamara stayed pretty guarded,, which made sense given the kind of self-absorbed asshole she was married to. Even so, she had let her facade slip a bit, and by the end of the night, had let me see the real her. The real Tamara was smart, funny, engaging, playful and a blast to be around. Straight or not, we hit it off and she responded to me, even after finding out my sexual orientation. In fact, it didn't even faze her, which just made me like her all the more. I gave her attention and she ate it up like cotton candy, not in a pathetic, needy way, but in a good way. I had just met her but already liked the hell out of her.
So the question in my mind was, how could I let her know I had a great time being around her that didn't come across as creepy or uncomfortable? Calling or texting her would seem too pushy, plus if Alan saw it I sense it would go badly for her. Just then I remembered that she had given me her business card, which made me smile.
She
had taken the initiative, the first step, a fact which delighted me but at the same time, something I didn't want to read too much into.
I reached down to the floor and retrieved my little black purse (I affectionately refer to it as my "party purse") and retrieved the card and stared at it for a second. Her business address was printed in small letters on the bottom right, making the corners of my mouth curve upwards into a goofy grin. I had an idea, one that hopefully would be both clever and nonthreatening. Grabbing my cell phone off the nightstand, I dialed the number of a local florist I used on occasio and they answered on the second ring.
"Best Buds, how can I help you?" came the familiar voice of the owner, an old and dear friend of mine.
"Hey Hank! It's Elena!" I said, my voice unusually chipper.
"Uh oh, I know that tone all too well, so you have finally found yourself a new girl?" Hank joked, knowing my last breakup a year ago had been rather acrid.
"Ha ha, very funny, no it's just a friend, A
straight
friend, I might add," I said, almost giggling.
"Not buying it, but ok. What do you want to do?" he said with a chuckle.
I thought for a moment. A rose seemed like a good idea. A single rose. Red would be way too pushy and probably scare her off, purple would be maybe too much also. Pink, yes pink sounded perfect, it wasn't too bland or too forward. I cleared my throat. "A rose, a pink one. That's subtle enough, right?"
"Good choice, you don't want to scare off the poor girl before you get her to fall madly in love with you," Hank said, a smile in his voice.
In the rest of the conversation, I provided her name and her office address, with no card or note or anything else. A pink rose showed appreciation, not romance, but also left the door open in a way. I wanted it to be sweet but ambiguous enough to give me an excuse to claim it was just a nice gesture and not anything more. I spent the rest of the day worrying I had overdone it, but also felt anticipation at how she would respond.
Tamara
I loved going to work. It was the one place I felt safe enough to be myself, without any fear of the jealous, insecure reactions that Alan had all too often. I considered it my oasis, my world, the sphere where I could have a measure of control and self-determination. My coworkers were great for the most part, every now and then we would get a new sales rep who would either make fun of me as a woman in IT or relentlessly hit on me. I could never stand up to my husband, but at work I could let my inner bitch out when necessary, which fortunately wasn't often. Needless to say, when a man chose to overstep, I handled it swiftly and firmly.
I walked casually over to my desk and dropped my purse on the credenza in my cubicle and sipped my coffee, turning to look at my calendar to see what my appointments looked like for the day. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of color in front of the keyboard, making me look down to see what it was. I almost snorted my coffee once I realized it was a rose, a single pink rose, whose scent was incredible. At that moment, I found myself wrestling with two completely conflicting reactions, anger at someone clearly hitting on me, and delight at being important enough to make a gesture to. I felt my face redden, signaling that the first feeling had won out.
I grabbed the rose and thrust it into the air. "Hey, not interested here. Married!" I blurted out in a loud, irritated tone. I am somewhat introverted, so when all eyes turned on me, I regretted saying anything. The look of shock and surprise on everyone's faces pretty much told me no one there was responsible for the flower in my hand. Courtney, who sat in the cubicle next to me, whispered, "Floral shop delivered it a half-hour ago, pretty sure it wasn't anyone here."
I felt my cheeks turn bright pink, and clueless what to say now that I had accused the entire office of hitting on me. "Um, guess... I spoke out of turn. Sorry. Must have been my husband." I stammered, trying to cover my outburst. I knew better though. Alan had been romantic once, but it was something that never happened now. I would have felt more confident repeating my baseless accusations to the office again than accepting he would have done it.
Picking up the rose, I took in the sight of it, it was flawless, fragrant and in bloom. Now that I was over my initial reaction, the feeling of delight came back, since it now seemed to be a genuine gesture by someone and since they didn't even reveal who they were it felt nonthreatening. I deeply breathed in the scent and just let myself enjoy the moment for a few seconds before turning my attention to work. When the word enjoy popped into my head, it made me recollect the events of saturday evening at the hotel, and of meeting Elena.
Elena, the delightful diversion at a party I had been dreading for weeks, who I found out was gay, not that it mattered. She had been nothing but respectful, though admittedly a flirt, but certainly nothing even close to inappropriate. Had she sent the rose? What was it supposed to mean? Did it mean anything? Did it even matter? At that moment, I had far more questions than answers, and it made me feel disoriented, and admittedly a little strange. Was it butterflies I was feeling? Certainly not, I was straight, married, and had no inclinations towards women. As I thought more about it, perhaps I was just unaccustomed to attention these days, but had to admit it did make me feel good, important even.
While it was still questionable if the rose was from Elena or some secret admirer, instinct told me that it was indeed her, and I could picture her mischievous grin as if she was watching me make that discovery. Come to think of it, I had been the one handing her my business card, so it all made sense. Hadn't I invited her to have coffee? Yes, it seemed to all make sense now, but I realized that I hadn't gotten her contact information. I frowned, realizing the ball was in Elena's court since she knew how to reach me but not the other way around.
