Genevieve
Ishivered at Carrie’s bossy tone, wondering if she was that bossy in bed. I wouldn’t mind, truth be told. I didn’t mind being submissive – for the right woman.
I stared at her across the table, my belly fluttering with a combination of excitement and attraction.
Carrie was beautiful. Taller than me, at least five ten, trim and sturdy with full breasts and rounded hips.
She was strong too, her arms and thighs nicely muscled.
Her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and her lips were full and pouty, a little too big for her face.
She had an air of aloofness that would almost make her seem cold if it wasn’t for the warmth of her eyes. I felt drawn to her in a way I hadn’t experienced before, though I couldn’t say why. And that made me want to spill my guts.
“My sister is the heir to the throne,” I began. “So I’ve always been… extra. Not that my parents made me feel that way,” I hastened to add. “But I had that sense, nonetheless. The nice thing about being the spare is that it gave me the freedom to come to the States for school.”
“And now you live in Seattle?”
“Yes. As long as I call them weekly and come back home for holidays, my parents mostly leave me alone to live my life. Until now.”
“What changed?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. They announced they were coming for a visit and informed me that I was accompanying them to some party.
I didn’t think too much about it, it’s pretty typical for us to attend various events when they come to the States.
What’s not typical is for them to introduce some dude to me and inform me that we’re getting married.
I was the last to know that we were attending my engagement party. ”
“What’s the matter with him?” she asked. “Too short? Too fat? Too sweaty?”
“Too male,” I shot back. “I’m not a fan of the D.”
At her blank look I added, “I’m a lesbian.”
Her eyes flared like that was exciting news. But all she said was, “Don’t your parents know you’re queer?”
“They seem to think it’s a phase or something, even though I came out to them in high school.”
I resisted mentioning I came out after being caught in the act with my girlfriend.
“Really? That’s an awfully long time for a phase. Maybe they think you’re bi?”
“I’m pretty sure that they think if they bully me into marrying a man they approve of, I’ll grow to love him or something,” I said. “That’s what happened with them. Their marriage was arranged but after they were married they fell madly in love with each other.”
“So they told you that you were getting married and then you what…? Ran away?”
I nodded. “I saw your van open and I was just planning to hide out for a few minutes but then you started driving and I decided an escape was in order. I mean, who announces their daughter’s engagement without them knowing it’s coming? I knew they wanted me to settle down, but that’s ridiculous.”
“Your parents will be worried about you though, right?”
“I texted my sister and told her I was okay but needed to get away for a while, then I turned off my phone. She’ll pass that onto them.”
Carrie shook her head. “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I figured I’d stay here tonight and figure it out from there.”
“Okay, but if I get arrested because of you, I’m going to be really pissed.”
“You won’t get arrested.” I assured her. “I came here of my own volition.”
The oven timer dinged, making us both jump. Carrie got up to retrieve the pizza, cutting it into fourths and putting half on each plate.
“Do you want something else to drink?” she asked. “Coke? Beer? Water?”
“Water’s fine thanks.”
We ate for a few minutes in silence.
“How’s your pizza, Genny?” she asked.
“Did you call me Genny?” I asked.
“Yeah Genevieve is kind of stuffy.”
“True,” I laughed. “My sister calls me Genny too. I like it. The pizza is good. Thanks for sharing.”
The frozen pizza was different from any pizza I’d eaten, but I rather liked it. The crust was thin and crispy, and it was bubbling with all the extra cheese Carrie had added.
I looked around her comfortable kitchen. It was cute but dated with a green and white checkered linoleum, dark green countertops, and white appliances. The counters were mostly clear save for a coffee maker and the knife Carrie had used to cut vegetables to add to the pizza.
“I like your house.” It was true. It felt warm and lived in. It had character in a way my own place was lacking.
“It’s pretty ordinary,” she said.
“I like ordinary.”
“What’s your place like?” she asked, then continued, “wait, let me guess. Fancy penthouse condo at the top of some exclusive building downtown, right?”
“It’s not the penthouse,” I said. “But yes, it’s an exclusive building. My parents bought it for me because it has good security, good enough that I got them to agree that I didn’t need a security detail.”
I had a sneaking suspicion they still had at least one agent on me, but I didn’t know that for sure.
My sister told me I was just being paranoid about someone following me, but I didn’t totally trust that my parents were respecting my wishes completely.
Then again, I didn’t mind as long as I didn’t have to see or interact with their security team.
Of course maybe I was wrong about that given how easily I’d slipped out of the hotel and escaped with Carrie.
“You’re how old? Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-eight.”
I wondered how old she was. I studied her face, noting the fine lines at the corner of her eyes, though the rest of her face was smooth. I’d guess she was in her mid-to late thirties.
“Well, no offense, but it seems like you’re old enough to live your own life and quit worrying about what Mommy and Daddy want you to do. Unless they control the purse strings?”
“I told you I work,” I snapped, feeling a bit offended despite her ‘no offense’ comment.
“You said you work in philanthropy, I thought maybe you volunteered.”
“I earn a salary and pay my own way,” I said clearly. “I don’t rely on my parents financially.”
It was something they both respected and resented me for.
I saw respect in Carrie’s gaze. “That’s good.”
“What’s your story?” I asked.
“I don’t really have a story,” she said. “I just turned forty. I was born and raised in Seattle. Typical middle class upbringing. Public schools, annoying little sister, family holidays. I went to the University of Washington for my degree, and as you know, I own a catering company.”
“You said I was wearing your sister’s clothes,” I reminded her. “Are you two close?”
Carrie smiled. “Oh yeah. Lizzie is five years younger than me, but we’ve always been tight. She’s probably my best friend. She’s not going to believe it when I tell her I found a damned princess stowing away in my van.”
“Please don’t tell anyone. Not yet. Not until I figure out my next steps.”
She gave me a look that was a little skeptical but nodded anyway.
“Just so we’re clear, you can stay tonight, but tomorrow we need to figure out a plan. I’m not running a hotel here and I really don’t want to be in the center of some kind of international incident.”
“Understood.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes before I asked, “What were you planning to do tonight?”
“Besides eating crappy frozen pizza?” she laughed. “I was going to put on my pajamas and watch something mindless on TV.”
“That’s what I was planning too,” I said. “Before I found out about my engagement, that is. What were you planning to watch?”
“Ride or Die,” she answered.
“Ooh yeah, I’m watching that too. Hannah Waddingham is so hot.”
“Agreed, but she’s no Gillian Anderson.”
“Who?”
She sighed. “I can’t believe you don’t know one of the original sapphic icons. I have so much to teach you. Let’s move to the living room.”
An hour later we were finishing up episode three of the show.
I’d seen it before, but Carrie had only gone up to episode two, so I rewatched it with her.
Partway through the episode she wandered out into the kitchen and returned with a bag of Doritos.
I’d never had them before but found that I quite liked them.
“Where do you buy these?” I asked, taking what had to be my tenth handful of the bright orange chips. I noticed that they left my fingers a matching orange color.
Carrie gave me a strange look. “Everywhere. Literally every quickie mart, gas station, and grocery store in the country has Doritos. They’re an American treasure.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m not going to argue with that.”
“Do you want to watch another episode before we go to bed?” she asked. “Well, I mean before I go to bed. You can do what you want.”
Her face flushed and I had the strangest feeling that I wasn’t the only one thinking about going to bed together.
“Yeah,” I said, slouching down on the couch with the Dorito bag on the cushion between us. “Another episode would be great.”