CHAPTER 4
Zara
Zara looked up, following Arwen’s gaze, and saw the woman she’d barely noticed when she’d turned around.
“Hello,” the woman said with a deeper voice than Zara expected from the tall, lean frame. “I wasn’t sure what your friend would want.” She set a glass in front of Arwen. “But I can get her something, too.”
“Oh, I…” Arwen mumbled.
Zara’s best friend of ten years hadn’t ever been all that lucky in love.
That was mostly because Arwen had always cared more about the environmental causes that she championed than finding someone to be with for the long term.
Zara had watched her attempt to date time and time again, but it rarely turned into anything serious.
In the past five years, Arwen had had one girlfriend, and that had only lasted six months and had been three years ago.
When Arwen had shown up at Zara’s apartment in tears because she had been dumped, Zara had held her.
She’d told her that everything would be all right and that Arwen would find the woman who was right for her.
It was that night, after Arwen had left to go home, that Zara had realized it: she was in love with her best friend, and maybe she had been since the moment they’d met.
That had been when Arwen had joined the firm as a new lawyer, and Zara had been assigned to be her paralegal.
Arwen was four years younger than her, and she was beautiful, kind, determined, and could be funny even when she didn’t intend to be.
Back then, Zara had worked with multiple attorneys, but once Arwen had moved up a little, they had assigned Zara to her alone, and things had gotten worse for Zara then because that meant spending more time working together.
Every day since, Zara had thought about telling Arwen.
Every day, she’d thought about saying that she was in love with her, but she’d talk herself out of that and think that asking Arwen out on a date first would be the best place to start.
She didn’t need to put that kind of pressure on Arwen by sharing her deep feelings for her right away.
Earlier that day, right after Arwen had returned from her lunch, feeling victorious for what she had gotten out of that high-powered asshole attorney, Zara had wanted to ask her then.
Instead, she had suggested drinks to celebrate and mentioned that she had something to talk to Arwen about specifically to not allow herself an out.
Yes, she could still make something up, but she didn’t want to do that.
She wanted to finally be honest. It was time.
Unfortunately for her, the moment she was finally ready to ask Arwen if they could take their relationship to a new place, the only woman she’d ever seen walk up to Arwen had appeared, and Arwen was staring at her.
“Oh, you… don’t have to buy me a drink,” Arwen added.
The woman glanced over at Zara and asked, “What can I get for you?”
“We haven’t ordered yet,” Zara replied.
“Yes, and I’d like to buy both of you a drink, if I may,” the woman said.
She stood there, in a sleek pair of black slacks that sort of shimmered and a suit jacket with a pinstripe button-down under it, and Zara thought she saw actual suspenders under the jacket, which she hadn’t seen a woman wear in years outside of a TV show.
“She drinks wine,” Arwen spoke up.
“Red or white?” the woman asked.
“Red,” Zara answered without thinking.
“Any particular kind?”
“I’m not picky,” she said.
“Very well,” the woman replied and turned to go back to the bar.
“Oh, my God!” Arwen whisper-yelled to her when the woman turned around. “She’s even more gorgeous up close.”
“Yeah…” Zara uttered, wind taken out of her sails. “Is she your type, though? She’s pretty butch.”
“I don’t have a type,” Arwen replied.
“You’ve only ever dated femmes,” Zara noted, looking down at the skirt she was wearing and thinking about the red lipstick she’d applied in the car on the way over here.
“She’s coming back over,” Arwen said softly, ignoring her comment.
Zara turned and saw that the stranger was, indeed, walking back over to their booth, having procured a glass of wine faster than Zara had ever seen anyone do in a packed bar.
“Here you are,” the woman said to her and passed Zara the glass. “I chose an older vintage they have here. I hope that’s all right.”
Feeling pressured to take a sip then, Zara did and said, “Jesus, that’s delicious.” She took another slow sip, savoring it now before she tipped the glass and inhaled. “This is the best wine I’ve ever had,” she added, staring at the glass in disbelief.
The woman smiled knowingly at her and asked, “May I join you?”
“Yes,” Arwen replied quickly.
The woman sat down next to Arwen, and one arm went over the back of the booth while her other hand remained wrapped around her drink.
Zara watched them stare at one another and felt very much like a third wheel.
She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t go now that she had a drink bought by this very confident woman who was about to start flirting with the woman Zara loved.
She also couldn’t down this wine in one gulp because it really was the best wine she had ever consumed, and right now, she could really use this.
She sipped slowly and watched as Arwen’s blush crept up her cheeks.
“I’m Iro,” the woman said.
“Hero?” Zara asked, thinking she’d heard wrong.
“No, Iro. I-R-O.”
“Iro? That’s an interesting name,” Arwen replied.
“Yes, it is,” Iro said, smiling at Arwen now.
“Oh, I’m Arwen.”
“Arwen? That’s beautiful.”
“My parents are big fans of The Lord of the Rings,” Arwen explained with an adorable shrug.
“I love The Lord of the Rings. I actually have a first edition at home,” Iro shared.
“You do?” Arwen asked.
“I picked it up at an auction a long time ago,” Iro said.
“God, my parents would probably kill for that. Obviously, they named me Arwen, so they loved it, but every year until I was, like, nine, they made me dress up as Arwen for Halloween.”
“Made you? You didn’t want to be Arwen?” Iro asked.
Zara sipped her wine and swallowed her regret because she could have avoided all of this by telling Arwen how she felt a long time ago. Even if Arwen didn’t return her feelings, Zara probably wouldn’t be sitting here watching her flirt with this woman with a strange name.
“I wanted to be Legolas. I thought he was cooler.”
Iro laughed and lifted her glass to her lips, taking a sexy sip. Zara wasn’t even sure how sips could be sexy, but Iro had managed to make a believer out of her.
“And when I got older, I wanted to be something else entirely; something more fun.”
“What’s that?” Iro asked.
“A vampire,” Arwen said with a wide smile. “I wanted the plastic fake fangs and fake blood and everything.”
Iro didn’t say anything to that, though.
She just stared at Arwen, and the way she was looking at her told Zara something.
It was something that churned her stomach.
Iro might be interested in taking Arwen home, yes.
She might want to try to get Arwen into bed.
Arwen, never one for one-night stands, would probably decline and suggest a date instead, but there was something else in that stare, and Iro showed a small, almost imperceptible smile.
That look suggested she wanted to keep talking to Arwen about silly Halloween costumes for as long as Arwen did, and if they ended up in bed, that would be a bonus.
It told Zara that Iro would likely take Arwen up on the date suggestion.
After years, Zara had just been about to tell Arwen that she wanted to be more than friends.
She’d finally worked up the courage and had been about to blurt it out right after they sat down, hoping Arwen wouldn’t dart out of the bar, but this woman had caught Arwen’s eye, and now, they were gazing longingly at one another.
Zara wasn’t sure she could take any more of it.
She noticed the drink menu, pinned between the napkin rack and the wall, and reached for it, not planning on ordering anything else but needing a distraction.
“Um… which wine is this? I might want to buy a bottle,” she said to distract the two of them from each other for a moment at least.
Iro turned to her and said, “It’s not on the menu, but I bought the bottle. I had to for them to open it. You’re welcome to it. I don’t drink wine.”
“You bought the whole bottle?” she asked.
Iro nodded and said, “Allow me.” Then, she turned to Arwen and added, “I’ll be right back.”
Iro stood and walked over to the bar.
“Oh, my God,” Arwen said again. “What is happening? Is she into me?”
“I don’t know,” Zara replied, even though she did know.
“Here you go,” Iro said as she held out a corked bottle of red wine that had ‘Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru 1949’ on it.
“This is from 1949?” she asked.
“Yes. They didn’t have anything from the 20s, or I would have chosen that for you,” Iro said. “It’s yours. As I said, I’m not a big wine drinker, but I hope you enjoy it.” She sat back down next to Arwen. “You haven’t touched your drink.”
“What is it?” Arwen asked.
“Bourbon. I thought you recognized what I was drinking when I asked if you wanted one.”
“Oh, I just nodded because you nodded.”
When Iro smiled at Arwen adoringly, Zara took a long gulp of that wine this time before setting the bottle down on the table next to herself.
“It’s a very good bourbon. Do you not drink bourbon?”
“Not really, no. I was going to get a mixed drink, like a Malibu and pineapple or something. I’m not a big drinker.”
“That’s sugary and sweet; masks the taste of alcohol.”
“I don’t really like the taste of alcohol.”
“Try this. I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s smooth.” Iro held up her own glass. “We can try it together.”
Arwen picked up her glass and sniffed it, making Zara smile. Then, she took a hesitant sip when Iro did, and she promptly coughed.
“What… do you… mean by… smooth?” she asked as she continued to cough.