Page 109 of Semantics

“I don’t have a real bar. This is fake.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out already.” Violet looked down. “I think I saw this background in a meeting once.”

Stella laughed a little and said, “I know; it’s ridiculous. I learned how to make a few drinks and…” She reached behind the curtain she’d hung and found what she wanted on the couch. “I printed some menus. So, as long as you order something from this thing, I can make it.” Stella set a small menu on the bar that she’d printed at work and had cut out while sitting at her desk, not paying attention to the meeting she was in. “I have all the alcohol and stuff that goes in these, but if you want something else with any of those ingredients, I can do that, too. I just might need to look up a recipe first. I have beer, but you don’t really drink that. Sorry, I finished the wine you left here when you… well, left that night, but I have the cheaper wine that I already had if you want that instead.”

Violet sat down on one of the stools and said, “You are being really cute right now. I can’t believe you did all of this. My last first date forgot we were even going out that night. She thought it was the night after, so when I texted her that she was thirty minutes late, she said we might as well go out the next night instead. I was already at the restaurant, waiting for her. I looked like an idiot. Then, she texted me the next day to cancel the whole thing altogether.”

“Well, she’s the idiot. How do you forget about a date with you?” Stella replied and turned back around, wishing she had thought to put a smaller table under this taller one to hold stuff instead of setting things on the couch or on the shelf on the other wall. She then picked up two small bowls, turned, set them on the bar, and added, “Snacks. Do you remember those sesame pretzels they served there? I always loved those things. These aren’t the exact same ones, but they taste pretty close.”

“Stella, I love this. Thank you. I’ve had such a long week at work, and I hated that we could only really text and have one phone call.”

“Me too,” she admitted.

Violet looked over Stella’s shoulder then.

“Looking for something?”

“Yeah, your manager. I was kind of hoping that they’d let you take a break and come around here to have a drink with me.”

“Oh, did I not tell you? I’m the owner of this fine establishment.” When Stella tipped her hat again, the curtain behind her promptly disconnected at a corner, and the thing barely hung on. “Shit.”

She turned to hang it back up, but Violet placed a hand over Stella’s, stopping her.

“Stella, I don’t need the façade. I just… need you tonight.”

“So, I shouldn’t stay in costume?”

Violet looked her up and down, and Stella thought she might try to climb over the table to get to her.

“No, you should definitely stay in costume.”

“Yeah? You like this look?”

“I love this look. Do you like it, though?” Violet asked and pulled on Stella’s hand until Stella made her way around the bar and sat on the other stool, facing her.

“I do. It makes me feel dapper or something. Look; I even have a fake pocket watch.” She pulled it out of the vest pocket. “It’s always ten-ten.”

She held it up to Violet, who laughed a little.

“You’re very cute with your little fake pocket watch, adorable vest, hat, and tie.”

Violet pulled the tie out of the vest, and Stella looked down at Violet’s hands.

“There are suspenders under the vest, too.”

“There are what now?” Violet asked, immediately moving her hands to the buttons. She undid them and parted the vest until she revealed the gray suspenders and said, “Oh.”

“Oh, good? Or, oh, bad?”

“Oh,” Violet repeated as she ran her hands over the suspenders and then, inside them, giving them a little tug. “I like this a lot.”

“Yeah?”

“You should wear this again soon.”

“I should? Why?”

“Because we’re not having sex tonight, but I really want to take all of this off you piece by piece and very slowly sometime.”