Lesbian Boss (Sapphic Sweethearts #5)

3.

Hillary

“ Y ou did what?” Amber drops her glass so fast that beer sloshes over the sides onto the tiled table. She places her hands on either side, getting them wet. Amber doesn’t seem to even notice or care. Her eyes are wide, her brows furrowed.

“Careful,” I say, reaching for a non-existent napkin. Wait. Why doesn’t this table have any napkins? I glance around the bar, trying to find one, but Amber doesn’t notice or care.

“No, you be careful,” she says.

“Why do I need to be careful?”

“Because you’re playing with fire,” she says. “Hiring your Tinder date? Really?”

“It wasn’t a Tinder date,” I say.

“Fine. Hinge. Bubble. I don’t care.”

“Bumble,” I correct. I should be embarrassed. I’m not. Dating in the modern age isn’t easy. No one said it was.

“I still don’t care.”

“Look, it’s not what you think.”

“Actually, it’s exactly what I think,” Amber says. She crosses her arms under her chest. A frown covers her face. “I think you’re trying to sabotage yourself before you can even get started.”

“Trust me. That’s not the situation here.”

“Really? Because it certainly seems like it,” she says.

“It’s not.”

“Then explain yourself.”

“Look, you’re not my mom,” I say. “Not my boss. Not my lover. Not my anything.”

“I was,” she reminds me.

“I don’t need a reminder.”

The two of us had something special once, but it was a very long time ago. We’ve both moved on. We’re both happier now. We’re both okay.

“Harsh,” she says, but her tone is gentle.

“We’ve been over for a long time, Amber. I don’t think you’re too hurt.”

“I’ll give you that,” she says. “I’m pretty happy with Kelly.”

“Good.”

“Thanks.”

“Whatever.”

I reach for my own drink and bring it to my mouth.

“Appetizers!” A waitress appears beside us and claps her hands. She’s got bright red hair pulled back into two matching pigtails. “What appetizers can I get you tonight?”

“We’re good,” Amber says. At the same time, I say, “cheese sticks.”

The server looks from me to Amber and back again.

“Cheese sticks?”

“Yes, please.”

The server gives Amber a quick glance. Amber’s scowling at me once again. She’s a no-appetizer, only-water kind of restaurant guest. Not me. I want a drink, I want apps, I want it all. I had to really twist her arm to get her to order a beer tonight, and she only did it because I said I’d pay for the first round.

“It’s fine,” I say.

“You just got promoted,” she says.

“Yep.”

“So, are we celebrating?”

“Maybe. Maybe a little.”

It’s hard to feel too excited about the job when I feel anxious about Emily. No, when I feel drawn toward Emily. I’m not supposed to like her or want her.

Am I?

But I do.

“You got a raise, huh?”

“Something like that.” I shouldn’t talk about money with Amber. The two of us used to fight about it all the time. Back when we were dating, we were always feeling strapped. She wanted to have dates at home, but I wanted to go out. Now, I’m finally in a position where I can go out, and I want to. I want to go out and have experiences and just live a little.

There’s nothing wrong with Amber wanting to stay at home. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to save money. The two of us just have really different ideas about life and love and joy, though.

This is why we’re great as friends.

As lovers?

Not so much.

“Congrats,” she says.

“Thanks.”

“And now you have an assistant.”

“Yep.”

“And you want to fuck her.”

“Yep.”

“What are you going to do?”

Amber stares at me. I just shrug.

“It’s so messy,” I say.

“Messy isn’t always a bad thing.”

“It is when it comes to work,” I say. “I don’t know how the two of us are going to, you know, make anything happen. She’s going to be a great assistant. I can’t exactly fire her because I suddenly want to jump her bones, too.”

“First of all, don’t say that.”

“What?”

“Nobody says ‘jump her bones’ anymore,” Amber says.

“I know.”

“Do you?” Amber raises an eyebrow.

“I know.”

“Good,” she says. “Then, let’s think about this rationally.”

“I’m ready,” I say.

“You have a new job.”

“Yes.”

“It’s similar to your old job.”

“Right.”

“You’re good at that.”

“Yes.”

“So, you don’t really need an assistant.”

I see where this is going, suddenly, and I shake my head.

“I need her, Amber.”

“Why?”

“Because my job is hard and complicated and messy,” I say.

“There you go with the messes again. You were never this tidy when we were together,” she says.

“When we were together, I was just out of college. My whole life was a mess.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m starting to figure some things out,” I say. I’m not pretending that I’m going to be the best girlfriend or the most valuable life partner. I can’t promise any of that. What I can promise is that I’ll be here for Emily if she does want to date me, and I’ll be here if she doesn’t.

Shit.

Maybe I won’t.

Confusion wraps around me. Amber reaches for my hand.

“Hey,” she says.

“Don’t.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“You can’t know that.”

“You’ve always been okay,” she reminds me.

“Have I?”

“You have.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it.”

Amber pulls her hand back. She stares at me for a long minute.

“Kelly and I almost broke up last week,” she says.

“What? What happened?”

“Jealousy. Miscommunication. You know how it goes.”

“I thought you two were fine. You just said it a minute ago. You said you were happy.”

“I lied,” she says. “I wasn’t ready to tell you.”

“And you’re ready now?”

“Yes,” she says.

“I’m sorry.” Breakups are hard.

“I’m not sorry,” Amber says. She stares at me. “We had this huge, nasty fight. It made me really reevaluate a few things.”

“Such as?”

“Whether this is working for me. Whether it’s working for her.”

“And what did you decide?”

“I decided that she’s worth fighting for,” Amber says.

“That’s nice.”

“It is. She decided the same thing about me.”

“But you’re still broken up.”

“Just for now. We’re evaluating. Well, we’re reevaluating.”

“And?”

“And our relationship is going to change now, Hillary. It has to. When you get to a breaking point like this, you have to shift something. Otherwise, you get stagnant, and when everything stays the same, it hurts.”

I sip my drink, think about her words. Maybe she’s right. Lots of people break up and get back together. I’m not worried about my friend or her relationship. She’s tough, and she’s cool, and she’s strong. She can handle all of this.

But I want to ask her more.

“What kind of changes are you going to make?”

“Oh, we’re getting personal, huh?” Amber chugs the rest of her beer before setting the glass back down on the table.

“Yep.”

“Well, for starters, if we do decide to push forward with this thing, we’re going to start scheduling date nights.” Amber chokes out the words. She’s never been munch of a calendar girl.

“Scheduling?” I raise an eyebrow. “Amber, you’ve never scheduled a date in your entire life.”

“Until now,” she says, nodding. “Now, things are changing. I’m changing. You can, too.”

“I don’t really want to change.”

She shrugs. “You don’t have to. You do have to decide what you’re going to do, though. Are you going to take a chance on a girl you literally just met? Or are you going to take a chance on your career and keep trying to push yourself forward?”

“When you phrase it like that, the answer seems obvious.”

“Sometimes, the right answers are.”