Chapter Seven
Sid checked her phone for the umpteenth time, her mood falling closer to the floor as she found no new texts from Kit.
The idea of hanging around the Den all night with Annalise and her two friends appealed less to her with each passing second, especially since the other women shared none of her interests.
She’d tried to engage them in conversation, but every time the live karaoke band struck a chord to begin a new song, her voice faded into the background.
She sat in a corner circular booth with Annalise, who clamped a protective arm around each girl.
They could have been twins with their matching piercings, hairstyles, and clothes, but Sid spotted the differences in their faces.
The one on the right, Addison, directed much of her attention to her phone, while Paris chewed gum and stared at the band with vacant eyes.
“I’m surprised they started the music this early,” Sid said after the rather jarring rendition of Janelle Monae’s “Tightrope” ended. “Any other place, things don’t get rolling until late.”
“This is late for Dareville.” Annalise tipped her beer bottle to her lips. “Downtown rolls up the sidewalks at six, but you know that because you work at Tish’s.”
She didn’t need the reminder. She thought of Kit, more like had her on the brain all this time, and wondered what would happen at work tomorrow if tonight passed without an appearance from her.
Roman’s voice nagged at her, but she’d called and texted a few times.
It wouldn’t help to appear desperate. She’d lobbed enough balls into Kit’s side of the court.
“Yeah, I guess. Have you decided on a song yet?”
Annalise had a copy of the song list, and three heads bent to study the tiny print. “I changed my mind about Mary Lambert. I’ll probably play it safe, maybe ‘Raise Your Glass’ or ‘Wrecking Ball.’”
One of the pierced pseudo-twins snorted at that, and waved down the waitress. The slim brunette took their orders, then smiled at Sid and complimented her outfit. “Haven’t you seen you in a while, sweetie.”
Sid tried to recall the server’s name, and when nothing sprang to memory she thanked her and ordered the Key Lime Pie martini. Annalise gave her a puckered frown.
“What?” Sid laughed.
“I don’t know how anybody can drink those. Kit loves ’em, but I think they’re too damn sour.” Annalise held up her beer in rebuttal.
“Depends on who makes them, I guess.” Sid glanced at the bar and didn’t recognize the woman making drinks there.
“I wouldn’t mind trying one,” said Addison, who looked as if she regretted ordering her Cosmopolitan.
“I don’t see Marie tending bar tonight, so I can’t vouch for how it will taste.” Kit told her as much that night in the back room, where they danced and flirted and turned each other on to the point that the rest of the club beaded with sweat.
Why am I here? She wasn’t enjoying herself without Kit. She moved to slide out of the booth but her companions emptied from the other end, with Annalise returning as Addison and Paris straightened their miniskirts.
“It doesn’t look like they’ve made our drinks yet, so we’re going to change our order.” Addison said this with her gaze fixed to her phone. Sid imagined she could walk the whole floor and seat herself at the other circular booth, not realizing she’d joined strangers.
Annalise scooted closer to her. A pungent whiff of beer stung her senses and she turned her head. She wanted to move away, but only a few inches of bench kept her from falling on her ass.
“You’re gonna sing, too, right?” Annalise asked. “We could do a duet, like ‘Islands in the Stream’ or something.”
“Oh, lord.” Sid laughed, and silently cursed her new friend for the earworm. “I can’t carry a tune to save my life. I’m content to watch other people make asses of themselves.”
“It’ll happen, but not with Paris. She’s good.
” They glanced at the bar, where both young women leaned and thumb-tapped on their phones as though the Den didn’t exist around them.
“It was my day off today, and I met them at a head shop in Virginia Beach. She was singing along to the store’s music.
I know she’ll bring down the house tonight, but damned if I’ll follow her,” Annalise added.
“You met both of them just today?” When Annalise nodded, Sid raised an eyebrow and turned as her drink arrived.
Kit had intimated that her friend seldom wasted time with attractive women.
She thought of her past dalliances, knowing she couldn’t judge Annalise, and felt relieved she had a wonderful person who made no move to stray.
Or not. Sid itched to check her phone again, though she heard not a hint of the tone assigned to texts. Kit’s absence worried her now. She’d accept even a curt we need to talk over radio silence. Maybe she had an accident, slipped in the shower or wrecked her car?
She left her drink untouched, sliding it away from her. Paris or Addison could enjoy seconds on her. “You know, I think I’m going to head out,” she began, but Annalise’s hand clamped on her wrist and held tight.
“I think you’ll want to stick around a while.” Annalise sidled too close for her comfort, and Sid tugged to free herself from the other woman’s grip.
“I think you don’t want to keep this hand.
” Her voice took on a sharp edge. When Annalise didn’t give, she kicked a leg forward to pivot out of her seat.
She’d drag her captor to the door if necessary, but unfortunately the heftier Annalise weighed her down.
The hand around her wrist snaked to her opposite while she pointed with the other.
“Hey!” She wriggled and grimaced at the pain shooting where Annalise’s fingers dug into her skin. “Two women aren’t enough for you in one night?” Where the hell were the Lipstick Twins, anyway? Probably out on the porch to find better reception. “I didn’t come here to add to your body count.”
“Excuse me, I’m trying to help you. Look over there.”
Sid faced the stage as the hostess grabbed the microphone and introduced Kit.
~*~
Oh, she is not… get your hands off her, you cow!
Kit had half a mind to leap from the stage and drive straight for Annalise.
Her soon-to-be-former friend grabbed at Sid like she was the last doll in stock at the toy store on Christmas Eve, no doubt whispering her latest pickup line in Sid’s ear.
To her relief, Sid appeared more irritated than seduced, so Kit left it alone for now.
She’d come here tonight to prove herself to Sid. Acting like a jealous shrew and causing a scene in front of every lesbian in town wasn’t the way to properly express oneself.
The hostess nudged her toward the mic, and she scanned the remainder of the crowd.
She held the attention of half the people gathered on the main floor.
Such apathy might have disappointed anyone else, but the dwindled attention cheered her.
She didn’t feel pressured to entertain the whole bar, just win the heart back of one patron.
“Hi, I’m Kit. And this…” Feedback screeched over her and she paused, then, “this is for you, Sid.”
The lights directed at the small riser passing for a stage brightened, making it difficult to gauge Sid’s reaction. She noticed the couple at the corner booth struggled less and settled in to listen. Annalise still needed to back off.
Her heart pounded in her ears, too fast for the beat of the song she’d planned.
Nonetheless, she nodded behind her and the drummer tapped a one-two-three signal to begin.
The first bass chord rumbled through her and the stage vibrated under her feet.
The music didn’t sound as loud up here as out on the floor, probably because of how the band had positioned the speakers.
No time to consider these things, though, as the song neared her cue.
The first line of “Silly Love Songs,” what she hummed during their first pancake brunch, came out ragged and weak. Kit wanted to crumple in embarrassment. She had one chance at the grand gesture and hated to blow it.
She inhaled on the pause and put more power into her voice. It was enough to get a girl leaning on the bar to look up from her phone, but only Sid’s attention concerned Kit. Her confidence boosted as she finished the verse, and she hoped Sid understood her reason for singing.
Then came that long, repetitive “I… love yoooou” chorus.
Silly, yet appropriate for the old Wings hit.
When Kit had registered to perform earlier, she imagined she’d direct her voice at Sid for the three minutes she spent with the band.
Once the chorus began, she shot her arm forward to offer Sid her hand.
A few patrons whooped in response. The overhead lighting softened and Kit saw Sid beaming back at her. Annalise, to her satisfaction, slid to the middle of the booth and diverted her focus to her beer.
The duet singer crooned the second chorus as Kit continued with the “I love yous” over her.
She’d liked this song as a kid, and figured it would be simple to remember for live karaoke, but she didn’t realize she’d be saying the same thing over and over for a while.
Sid, however, sat trance-like for a moment, taking it all in until Annalise lifted her foot and poked her shoulder.
Five steps later Sid stood at the lip of the riser and reached for Kit’s hand, then pulled her closer as the band segued into the instrumental break, triggered by a mohawked girl off to the side with a laptop loaded with music samplers.
One click of the mouse added the strings and brass to the four-piece band playing along.
“Hold up!” Kit squealed. “The song’s not over.”
“I know. Let’s dance.”