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Authors: Julia P. Lynde

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BOOK: Bidding War
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I stepped forward and shook Andi's hand somewhat coolly. Moira noticed my reaction. "Andi was my college roommate, Pamela. She is married with three children."

I immediately realized I was over-reacting. I smiled more warmly and told Andi I was pleased to meet her.

"I thought you said she was straight," Andi said to Moira. "She was jealous."

I began blushing and looked away. Moira stepped to my side and wrapped her arm around my waist. I leaned against her, still embarrassed.

Andi looked at me and said, "You're just as pretty as Moira described. No wonder she's besotted with you."

"She's not besotted," I said.

"So this is more complicated than you originally thought, Moira?" Andi said.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Moira looked down at me. "We'll see."

"Well, where am I taking you?" Andi asked.

"Your place first, if that's okay. Let us clean up a little. Then we want to go downtown. We'll take the train back in the afternoon and change for dinner."

"I could loan you a car," Andi said.

"I'd accept," Moira replied. "But I hate driving in Chicago. Just give me a second."

Moira stepped away from me and talked to the woman behind the counter for a moment. Andi and I eyed each other. Then Moira stepped back up to me.

"Well then," said Andi. She turned heel and led the way out a side door of the building, Moira and I following. Andi led the way to a parking lot and to the back of a Mercedes. She popped the trunk, and we slipped our things in. I climbed into the back seat behind Moira, fastened my seatbelt, and sat back to listen to the conversation.

Andi drove with a disregard for traffic laws. I almost closed my eyes for the last half of the ride. She glanced in the mirror and noticed my expression.

"Does my driving frighten you, Pamela?"

"I have no intention of criticizing," I told her. "Or distracting you."

"Now you know why I hate driving in Chicago," Moira said. "I have my eyes closed."

I laughed.

"You two are such babies," said Andi, narrowly avoiding another collision.

Andi and Moira talked quietly for the rest of the trip. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I presumed they were catching up. Finally we pulled up in front of a large, brick house. I stared at it. "Andi, what does your husband do for a living?"

"Don't be a sexist," she said. "He is a school teacher. I, however, am a vice president at an investment banking firm."

"Investment banking firm."

"Yes," she said.

Moira turned around to me and grinned. "Surprise number two. And they have a Minneapolis office. That is surprise number three."

Andi turned around and looked at me. "I understand you are a mortgage loan officer at a bank, but that you have an MBA in finance."

"Yes," I said in a small voice.

"I also understand you are disappointed working as a loan officer."

"Yes."

"I bet right about now you are wishing you hadn't dissed my driving or gotten jealous when I hugged Moira."

"Yes."

She laughed.

"I bet also you want to know whether we have openings in Minneapolis, and whether I can get you a job."

"Yes. Oh god."

She smiled at me. "Today is your date with Moira. I will give you my card, and you will call me next week. Yes, we have openings. I can't hire you, as I have no authority in Minneapolis, but I can get your resume to the top of the pile. After that, it would be up to you. But you will need to convince me you would be a good fit before I will put in a good word for you."

I looked at Moira. "Is this why we came to Chicago?"

"It's a bonus, but I'd already decided to take you here before I thought
Andi might be able to help you."

We climbed out of the car and retrieved our bags from the trunk, then Andi led the way into the house. She gave us a tour before directing us to a bathroom we could use to freshen up.

"Pamela, you may use this room. Moira, unless your relationship has you sharing a bathroom, you may use my master bath."

Moira looked at me. "Just clean up, Pamela. The day is casual with a lot of walking. We'll come back to change for dinner." I nodded.

I spent about twenty minutes cleaning up as best I could without taking a shower. When I was done, I felt relatively fresh. I stepped out of the bathroom and descended the stairs, finding Moira and Andi sitting on stools in the kitchen.

"Better?" Andi asked me.

"Yes, thank you. She let me fly."

"Oh, she did that with me a few times. It was nerve-wracking."

"I don't know what the big deal is," Moira said quietly.

"Yes, Ms. Flying Since She Was Seven," I said. Moira and Andi laughed.

We headed back out to Andi's car and I closed my eyes as she drove us downtown. She must have noticed because I heard her say, "Chicken" to me.

We came to a stop and she told Moira, "Call me from the train station and I will pick you up."

"Thank you, Andi. You're a doll."

"Of course I am." She looked back at me. "Have a good time in the Windy City."

We climbed out of the car, and Andi drove away to the sound of honking cars.

"How often is she in an accident?"

"A few times a year. Never very seriously, but I worry about her."

I stepped closer to Moira. "Are you really besotted?"

She looked down at me and took my hand. "Don't believe everything Andi tells you." Then she tugged me along the sidewalk before saying quietly. "Yes."

I squeezed her hand.

First she took me to a bakery where we bought coffee and croissants. We stood on a bridge over a river, or a canal, and watched the boats drive underneath while eating our croissants. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, and the sun glistened off the green water.

"What is the plan?" I asked.

"Museum, then lunch, then we'll go visit the Water Tower. After that, back to Andi's."

We walked side by side down the street, holding hands. Soon I could see Lake Michigan in front of us. We turned right and walked a few blocks before arriving at a museum.
We walked towards the museum doors. Just as we were about to enter, I pulled Moira to the side, then stepped up to her and wrapped myself in her arms. I pulled her lips down for a kiss.

It wasn't a long kiss, but it was sweet and lovely.

She was smiling when next I looked at her.

We spent the next two hours i
n the museum. It was fantastic, and being there with Moira made it especially sweet. When walking between exhibits, we held hands, but when looking at an exhibit, Moira tended to stand behind me, her arms wrapped around me, or her hands stroking my arms. At one point I looked over my shoulder and said to her, "I am going to become addicted to that."

"Good," was all she said.

We finished at the museum. "I'm so hungry," I told her. "But I could have spent more time here."

"Me, too. We'll come back sometime."

I smiled. "I would like that, Moira."

I slipped my jacket back on, and, hand in hand, we walked to a little Thai restaurant she knew of a couple of blocks off Michigan Avenue. While we ate, we played footsie under the table.

I knew I should be questioning what I was doing. I was falling in love with her. There had been times when I'd considered seducing Sam or letting Bonnie seduce me, but I'd never been serious about it, and I'd never met any of their gay friends who interested me.

Moira definitely interested me.

Over lunch I decided not to worry about it. I was just going to let it go. That wasn't my normal personality, but I could tie myself in knots if I tried to get my head around everything I was feeling.

I knew I liked the way she treated me. I knew I liked how it felt to be in her arms. I knew we fit as friends. That was something I had rarely had with men, a man who enjoyed doing any of the same things I did, yet Moira appeared to enjoy everything I did.

And I knew I loved kissing her.

I couldn't resolve all
of that with how I felt about Gwendolyn, who also treated me well, but who was complicated with a dark past. Gwendolyn needed someone to take care of her emotional side, if she was even going to have an emotional side. Life with Gwendolyn would be exciting at times, but I thought it might be very lonely at times, too. But she needed me, or someone like me.

"Earth to Pamela," Moira was saying. "Honey?"

I refocused my eyes. "I'm sorry," I told her.

"What were you just thinking?"

I thought about whether I wanted to tell her.

"You can tell me," she said when I paused.

I smiled. "I was trying to figure out what is going on with my emotions."

"Good things?"

"Confusing things. Maybe good. We fit."

She smiled. "Yes, we do."

"You probably find me boring."

She sighed. "You aren't normally given to saying stupid things."
I shrugged. "Have you come to any conclusions?"

"That I'm confused but that I'm not going to think too hard about it."

"I want our third date to be after your third date with Gwendolyn," Moira told me.

"What if I don't want to wait that long? Our second date is next Saturday, and our third might not be until the following weekend."

"Then you'll have to decide whether you are going to grant bonus dates. I want our third official date after your third with Gwendolyn." She paused. "And I won't be turning the heat up any further during any bonus dates."

"I'd like us to cook together."

She laughed. "That's going to be our third date."

"I think I could handle bonus dates," I said.

"They'll be shorter and low key. Dinner and conversation, or maybe I'll take you to lunch."

"I'd like that."

The conversation moved to lighter topics. We continued to play footsie under the table, which would have been more fun with bare feet, but we looked at each other and giggled about it, too.

Finally we had eaten all the food we were going to and finished our pot of tea. Moira paid the bill and took my hand to lead me from the restaurant.
We crossed Michigan Avenue heading towards the lake, and Moira led me to a park with a large fountain in the middle. She stood behind me, wrapping me in her arms, and I leaned back against her.

"I'm not playing very hard to get," I told her.

She laughed into my ear. "No, you're not. Are you having a nice time?"

"Yes, immensely so."

"So am I."

We stood like that for a while, looking at the fountain, then moved past it, heading towards the lake. We crossed the Shore Drive and proceeded all the way to the water, turning left to walk along the walkway. We exchanged stories about our respective childhoods.

"Do you swim?" she asked.

"Yes. You?"

"Like a fish. My grandparents retired to a lake in Northern Minnesota, and we spent a lot of our summers there. I loved it up there."

"I was a diver on my high school swim team." I paused. "I wasn't that good, but I enjoyed it.
I won a few minor awards, but only when the competing teams didn't field a full team or weren't very good."

She squeezed my hand. "Do you still dive?"

"If I'm at a pool with a good board, yes, I'll do a few dives. I'm rusty, so your average high school kid is better than I am now."

"I can't wait to see," she said.

"Maybe you will," I said, squeezing her hand.

We spent a couple of hours walking along the lake. It was chilly, and I didn't have my sweater, but when Moira realized I was getting cold, we kept us moving. Finally she pulled my hand, and we walked to the train station.

"I've never ridden one of these," I told her.

"Not even the light rail in Minneapolis?"

"No. Or the monorail at the zoo."

She bought our tickets for us and pulled me where we needed to go. We waited for a train, Moira's arms wrapped around me while we waited. We got a few looks, but I ignored them.

"Does that bother you?" she asked me quietly.

"If they can't handle it, that's their problem," I replied.

"That's an amazing statement from the straight girl," she said.

"You forget who my best friend is," I said. "And what a flirt Bonnie is. Sometimes I let her flirt with me in public. I get sick satisfaction from letting her think I'm giving in, then suddenly turning her down flat."

She laughed. "That's mean."

"I've done it so many times, if she continues to fall for it, she's either acting or not as smart as everyone thinks she is."

"Is that what you're doing with me?" Moira asked quietly.

I looked over my shoulder at her. "No."

BOOK: Bidding War
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