Page 4

“Okay, okay. So, are you going to give me a hint what this is about…?”

Max paused. Finally, he said, “Look, I’d rather just do it tomorrow, alright? Much simpler.”

Max

then told her he had to leave to run some errands and that he would text her tomorrow morning and they could decide on lunch plans.

After the call ended, Sally tried to figure out how to spend the rest of her girlfriend-less night.

Chapter 3

On Saturday morning, Amy was with her best friend Rachel, waiting in line at their favorite coffeeshop, La Vida Mocha. It was a chilly morning and so Amy, born and bred in Southern California, was dressed in her winter jacket, a slouchy beanie hat and black fleece-lined leggings covering legs that would normally be bare because of the casual flare dress she was wearing. Rachel, on the other hand, a transplant from New England who had met Amy freshman year at UCLA, was dressed as if it was the middle of summer in a fitted tee and nothing warmer than skinny jeans on her legs.

“Hey, Amy!” Vanessa, the owner of La Vida Mocha greeted her when it was their turn to order.

Amy smiled wide behind her mask.

“Hi, Vanessa,” she gushed like a teenager. She always gushed like a teenager when she got to speak to Vanessa. Vanessa was every lesbian’s dream. Even straight women went weak at the knees looking at Vanessa, Amy was sure. How could they not? For the longest time, Amy had harbored fantasies of somehow ending up with the stunning coffeeshop owner but those never came to pass and now Vanessa was engaged to Megan, some bigshot I.T. exec who also owned the art gallery next door to La Vida Mocha.

“My usual, please, and also a caramel latte,” Amy ordered for her and Rachel. Whenever they went out for coffee together they took turns buying and today was her turn.

“Coming up,” Vanessa said, punching in the order on the POS and taking Amy’s debit card. She then turned to Chloë, one of her assistants, behind her. “A caramel latte, please, Chloë, and Amy’s usual.” Turning back to Amy, she asked, “Are you staying to work on your blog?”

“No, not today,” Amy answered her. “We’re just going for a walk.”

“Hey, I meant to tell you,” Vanessa began after handing Amy back the card, “I really enjoyed that podcast episode you did with Patty Conroy; I think two episodes back? She’s one of my favorite writers.”

Amy smiled again behind her mask.

“Oh, thank you! Yeah, I love her. And she was so super nice!” She paused a second. “Have you ever read anything by Jillian Ashley?”

Vanessa gave her an Are you kidding? look.

“She’s amazing!” she said. “Like, my favorite writer. No offense to Patty. I know Jillian just released a new book but I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet.”

“It’ll blow your mind,” Amy insisted. “I just finished it and—” Amy used her hands to indicate the apparent explosiveness her mind underwent. “I’m hoping to get her on the show.”

“God, I hope you do! You’re so good at interviewing!”

Amy looked down, blushing. She couldn’t help it. Vanessa had that effect on her. Praise from her was like praise from a goddess.

In a few minutes, Amy and Rachel had their coffees in hand and left La Vida Mocha, heading west on Grand Avenue, towards the beach.

Rachel nudged Amy as they walked.

“Like I always say,” she began, “Vanessa really likes talking to you.”

Amy nudged her friend back.

“Quit! She’s just super friendly with all the regulars.”

“And yet she barely glanced in my direction,” Rachel said, taking a sip of her coffee.

“That’s probably because you put off this incredibly strong ‘I’m straight and only like dick’ vibe. Anyway, Vanessa is happily engaged to Megan.”

“Oh, come on, bestie,” Rachel said. “Like if Vanessa threw herself at you, you wouldn’t take her up on that?”

Amy’s mouth dropped open in indignation.