Authors: Julie Blair
Dr. Hammond. Would she ever get used to being called that? As Marge’s fingers flew over the keyboard, Jamie noted the short hair and lack of makeup and decided to take a chance.
“Maybe you could join me for dinner.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Marge’s mouth. “I’m just starting my shift, but I can recommend some places if you don’t mind going back into Atlanta.” Marge handed Jamie her ticket and a folded piece of paper. “And a place you might enjoy if you like to dance. Enjoy your evening, Dr. Hammond.”
Jamie hefted her duffel on her shoulder and stepped away from the counter, thrilled at her good luck. She was going to make this night count. She tucked the piece of paper into the back pocket of her favorite jeans, a new rip over her right kneecap, the result of tripping over a tree root while staring at a brunette with the kind of delts that made her mouth water. The woman laughed as she helped her up, and they’d spent a pleasurable afternoon in her tent. Southern women sure understood hospitality.
As she passed the woman from the line, she scooted around several people and sat next to her. The woman’s head was down, her hands folded in her lap. Jamie wanted to fix whatever was upsetting her. Southern women had captivated her, and she wanted to make this one smile.
“Can I help?” Jamie asked gently, resisting the urge to wrap the woman in her arms until she stopped crying.
The woman looked up, seeming startled. The most beautiful eyes Jamie had ever seen captured her—amber, edged with delicate golden lashes. Even glistening with tears, they were kind eyes, eyes you could trust. “No, thank you,” the woman said in that delicious Southern accent. The tight smile seemed more polite than genuine, but it was a start.
“What’s wrong?” Jamie rummaged in her backpack and handed the woman a Kleenex.
“I was looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.” The woman dabbed her eyes. “And I only have a few dollars on me and can’t find my credit card. I must have left it at my mom’s.” She clutched her purse to her stomach.
Jamie rested her hand on the neatly pressed slacks. “It’s okay. I’ll cover you. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“That’s kind of you, but I couldn’t.” The woman dabbed her eyes again.
“Don’t be silly. You can send me the money when you get home, if that makes you feel better.” Jamie settled her backpack squarely on both shoulders and swung the strap of her carryon over her head. She put her hand under the woman’s elbow and guided her up, steadying her as she swayed for a moment.
“Let me take that.” Jamie picked up the small suitcase and cut a path for them through the crowd. “I’m Jamie, by the way.”
“Carly.”
Finally Jamie was rewarded with a genuine smile. She almost reached to wipe off a smudge of pale-pink lipstick at the corner of Carly’s mouth. “I need to make a call,” she said, as they passed a bank of phones.
“Oh, my goodness,” Carly said, pressing her palm to her chest. “So do I.”
Jamie handed Carly a quarter and then dialed her father’s office, hoping he wouldn’t answer. She wondered who the “him” was Carly was leaving a message for, entranced by the way she drew out syllables as if in no hurry to speak. If only her own life were in no hurry.
“Mary, it’s Jamie. Tell Dad my flight got cancelled and I can’t get another one until tomorrow…Yes, I know it’s hard for you to reschedule my patients but…All right, add them to Wednesday’s schedule.” Jamie hung up and tried to calm her racing heart. Reprieve. One more night of freedom.
“Let’s go have some fun,” Jamie said, picking up their luggage.
Jamie studied Carly as they stood under the sign for the Best Western shuttle. She usually went for athletic types, the more muscular the better, but something soft and inviting about this woman made her want to cuddle up against her. Noting the absence of a ring on her left hand, she wondered if she had a chance. She assumed Carly was straight, but if the opportunity presented itself she wouldn’t turn it down.
“Are you feeling all right?” Carly looked pale in spite of the heat.
“Just tired and kind of hungry.”
Jamie unzipped an outer pocket on her backpack and held up two items. “Power Bar or apple?” Carly hesitated. “Go on. Can’t have you fainting. Then I’d have to carry you.”
“Thank you.” Carly took the apple, wiped it off on her sweater, and took a bite.
“Do you really want to spend the night out here in the middle of nowhere? How about if we grab a cab into Atlanta and get a room somewhere downtown? We can go out to dinner, have some fun.” When Carly hesitated, Jamie added, “You’d be doing me a favor. I’d rather not go out alone.” It wasn’t true, but she really wanted to go out with this woman.
“Are you sure, Jamie? I can’t pay—”
“I’m positive. Come on. We’ll have a blast.” Jamie picked up their bags and hustled toward a waiting cab before Carly changed her mind.
*
Carly rested against the cab door as they drove through downtown Atlanta, answering Jamie’s questions about the city she’d lived in until a few months ago. Her mother’s penetrating voice invaded her thoughts, as though she was second-guessing her judgment, warning her that she was too trusting and knew nothing about this woman. She folded her arms and straightened her shoulders. Doing something a little reckless after the week of stony silence from her father and angry stares from her mother gave her a rebellious feeling she liked.
“Check that out.” Jamie pointed to the marquee in front of the arena on their left. “Melissa Etheridge is playing tonight. Wow! Hey, stop.”
“No place to pull over, lady,” the cabbie said as he continued past the arena. Several blocks later he pulled into a Holiday Inn.
“Okay if we share a room?” Jamie took a wallet from her back pocket when they got to the registration desk.
“Um, sure,” Carly said. She’d never stayed in a hotel room with anyone, not even her boyfriend Mike, but it would be rude to object when Jamie was paying.
Inside the sixth-floor room, Jamie tossed their bags on one of the queen-sized beds and opened the curtains. “What a view.”
Carly collapsed on the other bed, yawning, cupping her hands behind her head. This was definitely better than spending the night in the airport or, worse yet, calling her parents for help. It would be fun, like the slumber parties she used to go to.
“Let’s go see if we can get tickets to the concert and then get you something to eat.”
“What concert?” Carly closed her eyes, ready to fall asleep.
“Melissa Etheridge.”
“Who’s that?”
“Oh, my God. She’s the hottest woman rocker around!”
Carly opened her eyes when Jamie landed on the bed next to her and giggled when Jamie dramatically draped her arm over her eyes. Jamie pulled her arm away, and warm brown eyes captured her.
“And even better, she’s a lesbian.”
Carly’s breath caught in her throat. Did that mean Jamie was? Maybe sharing a room with her wasn’t a good idea. She sat up against the headboard and tugged her T-shirt down over her waist.
Jamie scooted up next to her, and their shoulders touched. “I saw her about five years ago at the West Coast Women’s Music Festival,” Jamie said, tapping her feet together as if to music. “God, she was hot. You just knew she was going to make it big. I heard her again last year at this club in San Francisco. That rock beat and all those women. I still remember—”
Carly realized she was staring when Jamie stopped in midsentence.
“Sorry. Guess I got a little carried away. You’re okay with it, aren’t you? My being gay, I mean?”
Carly knew what she should say, but nothing about Jamie seemed dangerous. Her warm smile clinched it. Carly didn’t want to be like her mother. “Sure.”
“Great!” Jamie hopped off the bed and unzipped her duffel, pawing through it. She held up a white T-shirt with Southern Women’s Music and Comedy Festival across the front.
Carly didn’t realize until it was too late that Jamie was going to change right in front of her. She followed the path of Jamie’s T-shirt as it revealed her flat stomach, the flare of her rib cage, and breasts straining against the tight white tank top. Carly had never seen a woman with chest and arm muscles like this. Jamie scrubbed her hands briskly through the loosely permed dark curls that framed her face, then stretched her arms over her head and arched her back. When Jamie reached for her zipper, Carly stood and faced the window, feeling light-headed. “I think I need to eat.”
“Do you want to change? Like into jeans?”
“Um, I don’t have any jeans.” Carly looked down at her slacks and low heels and then back at Jamie. “Maybe you should just go without me.” All of a sudden she didn’t feel up to going to a rock concert, especially with someone as sexy as Jamie. Carly looked back at the street below, afraid she was blushing. She’d never thought that about a woman.
“No way. You look terrific. I feel kind of shabby next to you.”
Carly laughed at Jamie’s obvious attempt to make her feel better. Her enthusiasm was infectious and such a relief after her mother’s negativity. “Not if my frumpiness doesn’t embarrass you.”
“Carly, there’s nothing frumpy about you.” Jamie’s eyes drifted slowly up her body, displaying nothing but kindness and appreciation.
Carly liked how Jamie treated her. Coming into Atlanta had been a good choice. Her life would resume its course tomorrow, but tonight she wanted to be confident and adventurous like Jamie. What could be the harm?
*
Jamie looked up at the tall buildings surrounding them and found the bank the front desk clerk had directed her to. “I need some more cash. Scalpers won’t take a credit card.”
“Scalpers?”
“Yeah. They sell tickets to people like us who show up at the last minute.” Jamie pocketed ten twenty-dollar bills and fingered the piece of paper the flight attendant had given her with the name of the lesbian bar. What would it feel like to dance with Carly?
“Wait here while I get us tickets,” Jamie said when they got to the arena. “Then we’ll eat.”
“I want to go with you.”
Jamie headed them toward a black guy wearing tight jeans and a Braves cap. “Got some good seats for a visiting A’s fan?” Jamie flashed the guy her best smile. Carly stood next to her, arms folded.
“Wow, I should give you tickets, seeing’s how you’re stuck in the land of the losers,” the guy teased her back.
“Okay. I can live with that.”
“What’s a California girl doing all the way out here?”
“Enjoying Southern hospitality,” Jamie said in her best imitation of the Southern drawls she’d been absorbing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Carly smile. She sure was cute.
“Are you really an A’s fan?”
“Been going to the games since I was five. Even won a contest to be bat girl for a day.”
“Okay, I believe you. So, how close you wanna be?”
“Close enough to see her eyelashes.” Jamie glanced at Carly, whose eyes widened.
The guy reached into a small pack fastened around his waist and leafed through some tickets. “How about three rows back on the left?”
“How much?”
“For you, two large,” the guy said with a wink. “Seeing’s how we’re cousins and all that.”
“Ouch,” Jamie said, holding her fist over her heart. “That doesn’t leave me anything to take my girl out to dinner.” Jamie pulled Carly close with an arm around her waist.
“Okay, okay. How about one fifty, and I tell you where you can get a hundred-dollar meal for fifty?” The guy grinned at them. “Gotta love you out-and-proud girls from the West Coast.”
“Deal.” Jamie folded the tickets into her pocket.
“Jamie, that’s a lot of money.” Carly gripped her forearm.
“Concert and dinner are my treat, Carly.” Jamie headed them in the direction the guy had pointed.
“Why did he call you cousin?” Carly’s shoulder brushed against hers as they walked.
“He’s gay. He was acknowledging he knows I am, too.”
“Oh. How did you know he was…gay?” Carly whispered the last word.
“You just kind of know. We call it gaydar.” Jamie duplicated Carly’s whisper.
“Gaydar,” Carly repeated, not whispering this time. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Sure.” Jamie stopped in front of a diner and opened the door for Carly. The place was full, which Jamie took as a good sign.
“What did he mean by out-and-proud girls from the West Coast?”
Jamie caught a whiff of the perfume she really liked as Carly stepped past her. So far Carly was being a good sport. Was there a chance they’d share a bed tonight? “He was referring to the fact that gay people are a lot more publicly visible in California than in most of the country.”
Carly frowned, appearing to think about it. “What’s the opposite of out and proud?”
“In the closet.”
“Out and proud seems a lot better than in the closet,” Carly said decisively in her unhurried accent, the sincerity showing in her amber eyes.
“No argument there.” A waitress motioned them to a booth, and Jamie resisted the urge to sit next to Carly.
“What does your T-shirt mean?” Carly asked as they walked out of the restaurant. The heat and humidity hit them immediately.
“I just spent the weekend at a music festival for lesbians.”
“I didn’t know there were festivals for…um, lesbians.”
“We’re everywhere,” Jamie whispered. Carly blushed but didn’t move away as they passed a couple with three little kids in tow.
When they got to the arena, Jamie pulled Carly off to the side. “Have you ever been to a rock concert?”
“No.” Carly looked scared as she eyed the crowd, and Jamie hoped she wasn’t going to change her mind. “But I love rock music.”
“Great.” Carly’s eyes settled on Jamie. God, they were beautiful. “Any concerts?”
“A few Christian concerts.”
“You mean like Amy Grant?”
“Yeah!”
“She’s got a great voice.” Carly’s smile was radiant, and Jamie wanted to kiss along her bottom lip. “This will be rowdier. If you get uncomfortable, tell me. I want this to be fun for you.”
“Let’s do this.”
Jamie took Carly’s hand and led them into the crowd moving toward the entrance. When Carly didn’t pull away, Jamie’s hopes rose. She was a lot more adventurous than Jamie had expected. Maybe they’d use only one of those beds tonight.