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‘You’re a lesbian, yeah? Fancy a date?’ Annie said, depositing a hefty folder onto the counter.
The question took Jen by surprise. Not because she wasn’t out, but because people usually said hello before propositioning her. ‘I, er.’ Her cheeks burned red.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ Annie said as if waving something away. ‘I’ll go back to the start. How are you? Sales good? It’s hoaching outside.’
‘Been busy, yeah,’ Jen said, her mind still occupied with the previous enquiry.
‘It looks like Lovefest is going to be a roaring success, and it’s only day two. I can’t believe it.’ Annie was head of the Shawlands Business Initiative Group, the association that organised Lovefest, and had as much riding on the festival’s success as Jen did in the month’s sales. What Annie lacked in height she made up with fire and determination: if anyone could pull it off, Annie could.
‘Good feedback, then? Lots of smooching and canoodling?’ Chloe asked with a smirk.
‘Lots of feedback, yes; not so sure about the smooching. So, listen . . .’
‘Yes,’ Jen said, trepidation clear in her voice. She was niney-nine per cent sure Annie had a husband. And two kids, come to think of it.
‘Lesbian, yes?’
‘Yep.’
‘Single?’
‘You betcha,’ Chloe chipped in, only to get daggers from Jen.
‘Just what I wanted to hear,’ Annie replied, with a wry smile as she tucked a loose strand from her black bob behind her ear. ‘And finally, you free tonight?’
Chloe straightened herself with a wriggle, excitement clear. They were chalk and cheese. Chloe would happily comply with anything, without even a sniff of specifics, purely for the experience. Jen, on the other hand, needed time and space to calculate. Even then, the answer was usually no. There was little better than a glass of wine and her own company.
Before Jen could protest, Chloe answered: ‘She’s free. What’s the plan?’
‘Thank the stars,’ Annie said with a sigh of relief. ‘It’s the event tonight, in Cal’s.’
‘Ohh, sounds intriguing.’
‘It’s going to be great. Just a few minor snags, which it looks like I’m well on my way to ironing out. Right. Eight o’clock, don’t be late.’
‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Jen said, throwing her hands up to halt further activity. ‘I’m not agreeing to anything. What’s this all about?’
Annie grinned. ‘Thought that was a bit easy. We’re officially kicking off Lovefest with a matchmaking event in Cal’s, and from ticket sales, I could see we were a little short on women seeking women. Of course, we might get a few walk-ins, but I don’t want to risk it. So far there are only three other ladies signed up. Not exactly the impression we were going for.’
‘Matchmaking event?’ Jen repeated with a gulp.
‘Yes, but really, you’re just there to plump numbers. You don’t need to do a thing.’
‘I dunno.’
‘Oh, come on, Jen! It’ll be fun,’ Chloe said, leaning around the counter to squeeze her arm. ‘What about me? Can I help make up numbers too?’
Jen scoffed. ‘You? You can’t pretend to be gay!’
‘How so? I can act gay.’
‘It’s not about acting. Whatever “acting gay” is.’ Jen’s cheeks blushed red again: she hated debating sexuality. ‘It’s because as soon as you sniff out a hot single guy you’re like a dog with a bone.’
‘You don’t think I can pretend for one night?’ Chloe feigned offence.
‘Not on your nelly.’
Annie picked up her folder, hugging it to her chest. ‘Look, if both of you come, fantastic. But I need at least one. Free drinks? Would that do it? Please, Jen.’
