Chapter 26 #2
A laminated menu was tucked into a holder in the middle of the table. Scottie pulled it out, opened it, and angled it so Willow could see it too.
Willow leaned closer and was acutely aware of the warmth of Scottie’s thigh pressed against her own.
But neither of them shifted away.
A waiter came to take their order before Willow’s distracted brain had a chance to process the offerings, so she ordered the first thing that came to mind. “I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke.”
Scottie grinned. “Can’t go wrong with the classics.” She glanced up at the waiter. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
The performance started just as their food arrived.
An elegant drag queen in a sequined dress, towering heels, and a platinum-blonde wig sashayed onto the tiny stage and lip-synced to “Dancing Queen.” Her flawless makeup was a work of art.
Scottie nodded her head to the beat and held her cheeseburger with both hands, chewing happily as she followed every move onstage.
Willow found herself watching Scottie as much as she watched the performer, again fascinated by the enthusiasm Scottie put into everything she did. She tried to focus on the show, but the awareness of Scottie’s thigh against her own never left her.
Once the notes of the last song faded away, the audience clapped and whistled.
Scottie let out a “whoop” and didn’t seem at all bothered that she was clapping more loudly than everyone else.
Willow glanced around to see if anyone was staring but then stopped herself. She had wanted to take a page from Scottie’s book, and now she would. Holding her head up high, she clapped louder too.
Grinning, Scottie bumped her with her shoulder.
“Thank you, beautiful people!” the drag queen said into her microphone. “I’m your host and mistress of the bingo cage, the incomparable Sissy O’Sass. Are you ready for Drag Bingo?”
The audience cheered.
“For all of you Drag Bingo virgins, the rules are simple—it’s like regular bingo, just with more sass.
If I call a number you have, you take your little dauber and give it a good spank.
If you get five in a line, scream ‘Bingo!’ at the top of your lungs.
But I’ll warn you: If you scream it and don’t have it, I get to spank you.
” Sissy O’Sass turned, bent at the waist, and mimed spanking herself before swiveling back around.
“And here’s my favorite rule: If two people have bingo at the same time, they get to come up onstage and have a dance-off! ”
Get to? Willow shuddered. Having to dance onstage was a scenario straight from her nightmares.
“You okay?” Scottie asked.
Willow nodded.
Scottie gave her a soft smile. “You’re picturing having to do a dance-off, aren’t you?”
It was wonderful and scary to realize how well Scottie knew her already. She nodded again.
“Don’t worry,” Scottie said. “I’d grab your card and pretend it’s mine.”
Willow stared at her. Scottie was almost too good to be true.
A server interrupted by stepping up to their table and handing out bingo cards and daubers.
Scottie studied the five-by-five grid of her card. “Have you ever played before?”
“Of course,” Willow replied. “Everyone’s played bingo.”
“Not me,” Scottie said. “I know, I know. I must be the only person in North America who never played bingo at school as a kid.”
“No worries. It’s really easy.” Willow leaned closer.
It was unexpectedly wonderful to be the one to teach Scottie something, even if it was just bingo.
“See how the columns are labeled B, I, N, G, and O? If the hostess calls N-11, for example, you look for the number eleven under the N column. If you have it, you mark it with the dauber.”
“Got it.” Scottie grabbed her dauber like a sprinter getting ready for the big race.
Sissy O’Sass spun the bingo cage. The white balls rattled inside. Then she plucked one out and held it up. “B-7!”
Scottie trailed her finger down the B column. “Ooh! I have it!” She opened her dauber and enthusiastically smashed it down on the B-7 square.
Willow didn’t pay a lot of attention to her own card. Her gaze was on Scottie, who focused so intently that her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth. She was completely unselfconscious, and it was the cutest thing ever.
Anticipation rose as their hostess called out more numbers and people kept marking their cards, probably coming close to a bingo.
Sissy O’Sass pulled another ball from the cage and held it up. “O-66!”
Scottie marked her card, raised it high in the air, and yelled, “Bingo!”
Two tables down, a man in a Hawaiian shirt shouted “Bingo” too, but Willow barely noticed because Scottie threw her arms around her for an exuberant hug.
Willow stiffened for a second, but no zap followed. Her eyes fluttered shut as she sank against Scottie. God, she smelled so good, and she felt even better. Willow fought the urge to bury her nose against Scottie’s neck.
“Ooh, gentlefolks, we’ve got a tie!” Sissy O’Sass’s voice cut into Willow’s cocoon. “You know what that means: a dance-off! Come on up, darlings, and show us what you’ve got!”
The audience cheered and clapped.
Scottie let go and slid out of the booth.
Willow’s stomach dipped with nervousness for her.
But Scottie didn’t seem to have any stage fright. She sauntered to the stage, jogged up the two steps, and took up position next to her competition as if she did this every day.
The music started, and Willow recognized “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summer. She half laughed, half choked. Clearly, the Drag Bingo organizers were out to kill her.
Scottie began to dance. She moved with playful confidence, clearly not caring at all that an entire bar full of people was watching as she shimmied and twirled her body to the music.
Her disco dance moves should have looked cheesy.
It was obvious that she wasn’t a professional dancer, but Scottie’s abandon more than made up for it.
She pointed at complete strangers in the audience, drawing them in.
Every time the chorus hit, she swayed her hips in a sensual rhythm.
Willow grabbed her Coke without looking away from the stage and took a big gulp. She found herself swaying in the booth, caught up in the music…or maybe in Scottie.
When the song ended, Sissy O’Sass asked for applause for the guy in the Hawaiian shirt first.
Admittedly, Willow had no idea how Scottie’s competition had done. She hadn’t spared him a single glance.
Then the drag queen asked for applause for Scottie.
Willow clapped, stomped, and whistled. She knew she was drowning out everyone else, but she didn’t care.
Across several tables, her gaze met Scottie’s, who flashed her a wide grin.
“Looks like she brought her fan club.” Sissy laughed. She grabbed Scottie’s hand and raised it. “Gentlefolks, we have a winner!”
Scottie bowed playfully and accepted the envelope with her prize.
The audience cheered again.
A minute later, Scottie slid back into the booth with flushed cheeks. The velvet dipped beneath her, making their thighs touch again. With a flourish, she handed Willow the envelope. “Open it and see what we won.”
“We?” Willow repeated. “You won the dance-off. If I had been up onstage, they would have laughed me out of here.”
“I wouldn’t have laughed,” Scottie said quietly. “Open it.”
Willow did.
A gift certificate for two fell out.
The universe seemed determined to sabotage her resolution to limit the time she spent with Scottie. But it wasn’t just any gift certificate; it was a class at a local pottery studio.
“Oh, cool,” Scottie said. “I’ve always wanted to try that.”
Willow nodded weakly. All she could think of was the sapphic romance novel she’d read this past weekend. It contained a scene in which the two main characters used a pottery wheel together…ending with a heated make-out session.
Images of clay-smeared fingers sliding over bare skin flashed through Willow’s mind, but the hands in her mind didn’t belong to the characters from the book. They looked suspiciously like Scottie’s.
Willow quickly slid the gift certificate back into its envelope and raised her hand, desperately signaling to the waiter. She needed another drink—an ice-cold one, preferably.
~ ~ ~
Once Drag Bingo ended, they sat in the booth, finishing their drinks, while “Jolene” by Dolly Parton drifted through the bar’s speakers.
Every now and then, they commented on something—the music, the drag queen’s earlier performance, the other patrons.
Mostly, they sat in companionable silence, though.
It didn’t feel tense or uneasy; it felt as if they had become comfortable with each other and didn’t need to fill every second with chatter.
Scottie leaned back in the velvet booth and nursed her second Coke.
Warmth still buzzed through her, not just from the adrenaline kick of the dance-off but mostly from Willow’s closeness.
She wasn’t eager to leave, and Willow didn’t seem to be in any hurry either.
She swirled the half-melted ice cubes left at the bottom of her glass and appeared to be deep in thought.
Was Willow thinking about what would happen after tonight too?
Then Scottie froze, her hand still on her glass.
A familiar figure rose from a table across the room.
For a moment, Scottie thought she must be imagining it, but the auburn hair and confident posture were unmistakable, even in the low light.
It was Tanya.
They hadn’t seen each other in more than eight months, not since that night Tanya had sat her down and told her she didn’t love her anymore and wanted more from life than spending it with her.
Scottie hadn’t gotten any warning then—just like now. Tanya was suddenly there, right across the room.