Page 20 of Lesbian CEO

Or have I?

Or, I wonder as my stomach twists, did our breakup change her?

“Well, I appreciate it. I really do have a small company,” she continues. “And I know it’s nothing compared to yours, so thank you.”

“Of course.” I don’t tell her that the statement is true. I don’t tell her that until it came out, I was, in fact, planning to try to destroy her. Being forced together with Toni is making me wonder if perhaps I overreacted.

Okay, maybe I completely overreacted.

She’s not the vicious villain I really did think that she was. Instead, Toni seems soft. Sweet. Delicate.

“I know that this isn’t really how we’d pictured reuniting after so much time apart,” she continues. “It’s weird, right?”

“A little,” I admit.

“Did you ever think of me?”

I should lie.

I should tell her that I haven’t thought about her since the night I was going to propose. I should say that I haven’t missed her, haven’t longed for her. I haven’t thought about dancing with her every time it rains, and I haven’t wondered what it would be like if we actually did end up adopting a dog together or buying a house together.

I should lie.

But somehow, when Toni looks up at me like this, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I can bring myself to tell her that she’s not important because she is. Even now, even after all of this time, she’s important to me. I want her to continue to be important.

I’m saved, though, because Annabelle opens the door to her shop and ushers us inside.

“It’s going to rain,” she says.

“Is it?”

“We’ve got a thunderstorm warning tonight,” she nods. “Today, tomorrow, and probably even on Saturday.” I see Toni cringe. Her volunteer thing is outdoors at the park on Saturday. Rain is going to mean people can’t attend, which means she’s not going to get those pets adopted.

“I’ve got a good feeling about Saturday,” I tell Toni, and that seems to calm her down. Annabelle cocks her head, but quickly regains her composure.

“Tell me what you’re looking for,” she says. “I know you have an event on Saturday, which doesn’t give us much time. We’ll need to choose something off-the-rack for both of you. I’ll measure you today, make alterations tomorrow, and have the gowns for you on Saturday.”

“Are you sure?” Toni asks. “That sounds like a really tight squeeze.

“Jessica is paying me well for the service,” Annabelle smiles. “Trust me. I don’t do this out of the goodness of my heart.”

At 62, Annabelle has been making dresses for a long time. She’s good at what she does. Not only does she measure us effortlessly and help us each consider an assortment of dresses that highlight our best features, but she makes us both feel comfortable and at ease. Within half an hour, I’ve selected my dress, and Toni has narrowed her options down to two.

“Which one do you think?” Toni asks. She holds up a red dress and a blue one. They’re both lovely. She’s tried them both on, and either one makes her look drop-dead gorgeous. Not that she needs the help of a dress to look drop-dead gorgeous. She doesn’t. She can do that all on her own.

“They’re both beautiful,” I admit. “The red one clings to you. It gives you a sort of Jessica Rabbit vibe.”

“And the blue one?”

The blue one is shorter. It’s almost a mini dress, but not quite. The silk fabric swoops down in the front, revealing her cleavage, and it’s short and flowy, so it almost shows off the curve of her ass cheeks.

Is it what someone would normally wear to a business networking event?

Probably not.

Do I hope she chooses it anyway?

Absolutely.