No Strings Attached(50)

“Don’t tell me,” Martha said, “she’s at least ten years younger than him.”

“Don’t be so bitter.” Sheryl patted her colleague on the shoulder. “Trevor did you a favor in the end.”

“If you want to call it that.” Martha sipped from her wine. “Anyway, let’s not talk about our ex-husbands tonight. Surely we have far more interesting topics to discuss.” She let her glance rest on Micky for an instant, as though insinuating that Micky was one of those topics.

Micky smiled at her sheepishly. This was the first time she had seen Martha again since they’d met. She hadn’t had a chance to discuss with her what Amber had implored her to do. Not that Micky saw much point to that now. Robin hadn’t been to The Pink Bean once this week, nor had she texted back. Micky might as well remove her number from her phone. An act she had considered doing—for ritual cleansing purposes—that morning, because whenever she closed her eyes, or just before opening them, all she still saw was Robin all over her. When she focused really hard, she could conjure up her smell. And she had no trouble recalling how the grip of Robin’s fingers around her wrist felt. But that was over now. In the past. Time to look ahead. Which was, at this very moment, straight into Martha’s kind eyes.

It wasn’t as though, when she allowed herself to, Micky couldn’t see herself together with a woman like Martha. Mere weeks ago, it was all she ever dreamed of. But that was before Robin had showed her how easily initial attraction can turn into unbearable lust and… this yearning that Micky just couldn’t shake. A tiny part of her, even as she sat there feeling pretty pleased with herself surrounded by these women in her home, wished this was a dinner party to introduce Robin to the group.

But it wasn’t. So she’d better get a grip.

“How about I bring out some snacks?” Amber said.

Only a few minutes into the evening and Micky was already neglecting her hostess duties. She really needed to pull it together and erase all memories of that Saturday night of two weeks ago from her brain.

“I’ll help you,” Martha volunteered, and they headed into the open kitchen.

“How have you been, Micky?” Sheryl asked. “Kristin tells me you lost her a loyal customer?” It was clearly meant as a joke, but it still nagged at Micky.

“Leave her alone, Sheryl,” Kristin said. “At least now we don’t have to make wet cappuccinos anymore.”

Just the day before, Kristin had brought up Robin. Micky had just finished her shift and was packing up to leave the coffee shop when Kristin had said, “She really does seem to have moved on, from both of us.” She’d bumped her shoulder into Micky’s and continued, “But not to worry, a certain professor is very excited about seeing you again tomorrow.”

It had struck Micky then how quickly she had gone from being in denial to being attracted to one woman while another was attracted to her. Perhaps it was the effect Robin had had on her that was rubbing off on her and making her look interesting to Martha. Something with pheromones and whatnot. She’d made a mental note to google that, but hadn’t gotten around to it. Either way, all this week, and even still that night, there had only been one conclusion to every thought she’d had: Robin and how that was now dead in the water.

“It’s a good thing,” Amber had said when she’d arrived earlier. “It’s best not to wear these things out too long.”

“Here we go,” Amber said and presented Kristin and Sheryl with a tray of hummus and aubergine dip she had brought.

✶ ✶ ✶

“What with it being all the rage these days, I’ve tried it several times, but I could just never get the hang of it. I’m sure it’s me, but I don’t have the right mindset to practice yoga,” Martha said to Amber after learning she was an instructor.

Uh-oh, here we go. That’s the conversation hijacked for the next thirty minutes. Mickey loved Amber dearly, but she could go on and on about a subject she was passionate about. Yoga was number one on her list.

“Then I can only assume you just haven’t come across the right instructor for you yet,” Amber, to Micky’s great surprise, simply said. “I invite you to come to one of my classes and I will happily change your mind.”

Martha smiled at her, then cocked her head. “Such utter confidence. I like it.”

Amber smiled back with the most wattage her smile could muster, then looked away from Martha, stared briefly at Micky, and folded her features into a more demure expression again.

“Can you give me a quick hand in the kitchen, please?” Micky asked.