No Strings Attached(9)

She would look at the customers differently today—with a more open attitude, as Amber had advised. Not that she expected anything to come of that, but again, as Amber had said, it was more about the feeling that came with it.

Kristin opened the shop at six and was always there when Micky arrived at six thirty. When she kissed Micky hello, a habit she had taken up from the very first day, even her boss looked different to Micky. Everyone and everything looked different.

Next, Micky wondered about Josephine. She was a PhD student at the university where Sheryl worked. Micky watched her pour milk into a steaming jar and wondered how Amber could tell whether people were gay or not. And what if they were bisexual or anywhere else on the spectrum she had talked about last Friday. Micky had thought about the spectrum a lot.

“You and Amber should come to dinner sometime soon,” Kristin said fifteen minutes later, when The Pink Bean was still empty. “Sheryl and I would love to have you over.”

Micky couldn’t believe it. Walking in here with an open spirit had had an immediate effect. Though, of course, Kristin had probably planned to ask her all along. Still, it didn’t matter to Micky. It made her feel good—like she was on the right track.

“That would be great.” Micky looked at Kristin’s regal posture and her upmarket clothes. Micky didn’t know what a typical coffee-shop owner looked like, but if asked to conjure up the image, Kristin would be the last person she thought of. She looked more like a lady who lunched—a very smart one. “Amber is vegan, though, for your information.”

“Not an issue. Quite a few of our friends are,” Kristin said. “Give me a shout when Amber pops in for her daily tea, and we’ll set up a date.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Kristin was, of course, Micky’s boss, though it didn’t feel that way at all. There was nothing authoritarian about her. She never raised her voice and was an expert at going with the flow, even when things got very hectic. Kristin probably knew her bed was made. A few more years of operating a coffee shop in Darlinghurst and she could retire very gracefully.

Micky had only been on the job a week, and already an entrepreneurial spirit she didn’t know she possessed reared its head. What would it be like to own a place like this—and count the takings after closing time? Apart from a job when she was in college—for a degree she never used—Micky had never earned a cent. Darren had always been the breadwinner. Micky made a tiny amount at The Pink Bean, but she wasn’t there for the money—although the very act of earning it felt good.

Perhaps, what it came down to was that Micky saw Kristin as a role model. She was an out lesbian with a long-term partner and her own business. She was a lot of things Micky could only dream of being. Or could she do more than dream?

✶ ✶ ✶

After the morning rush had passed and Amber had come and gone—and a dinner date at Kristin and Sheryl’s had been set up for the coming Saturday—Micky relaxed with a macchiato, leafing through a copy of LOTL magazine.

She had just gotten engrossed in a story about an older lesbian coming out of the closet—called a latebian in the article—when the door of The Pink Bean opened. Micky’s reflex was to look up, and she saw it was Robin. She wasn’t dressed in the pantsuit Micky had become used to seeing her in. Instead, she wore a tiny pair of shorts, long, white socks pulled up all the way to her knees and a very tight tank top. She was also covered in sweat, which made her arms glisten—and her biceps and triceps stand out in a pretty impressive manner.

Crikey.

Robin ordered her ridiculously named beverage from Josephine, and instead of waiting for it at the counter the way she always did, she sat down at the table next to Micky’s.

Micky tried to focus on the article she’d been reading, but the words danced in front of her eyes. Her gaze kept being pulled to Robin’s legs and the bare patch of thigh between the socks and the shorts. This woman boasted some serious muscle tone. But what was up with the socks?

“I do CrossFit,” Robin said. “That’s why I wear these.” She patted the sock closest to Micky. “They protect my shins when I do deadlifts.”

Had she been reading Micky’s mind? Additionally, Robin might as well have been speaking Chinese, judging by how much of what she’d said Micky had actually understood.

“Oh,” she replied, just to say something. She was also perplexed that haughty Robin would even take the time to speak to her—a lowly coffee-shop employee.

“Here you go.” Josephine brought over Robin’s cappuccino.

Robin thanked Josephine, stirred her coffee once, then looked at Micky. “What’s your story then?”