“Pastry chef? They have a guy who does nothing but bake cakes and make desserts?”“I can see you don’t have much experience with what mom calls ‘fine dining’.”“I don’t think Frisch’s Big Boy qualifies.”This elicited a giggle from Bethany, “No, I don’t think so.”When the meal was done, they handed Bethany a little leather folder and a pen. She signed the paper inside. I didn’t see what was on it, so I had no idea what this meal had just cost. She had gone all-out so far. I wondered what the rest of the night would bring.We walked out and re-entered the limo which was waiting by the door. Someone had obviously told the driver we were almost done. I could get used to this.“Bethany, do you do this all the time?”“Usually we bring dad’s car and the valet brings it the same way. This is the first time I’ve done this myself. I’ve ridden in limos before with mom and dad to the airport, but never on a date.”The driver took us to the Junior High. We weren’t the only limo, but most kids were being. Was she so obvious? She felt like she was the prostitute, not the woman who she was going to meet. Her cheeks burned and she nearly turned back, but soon she felt the thick pile of carpet beneath her feet and the soft seductive lighting of the bar ahead beckoned her on. She entered the bar area and stopped, glancing around. She was early and so she selected a corner cubicle from which she could survey most of the room. A waiter came and took her order; she needed a drink. She ordered a bloody mary. I’m going to do this in style’ she thought, crossing her legs and avoiding the gaze of two or three lone men who were seated at the bar. ‘Oh God’ she suddenly thought, her Sapphic lust temporarily giving way to the realisation that men might fancy her and think she was on the pick up. She hoped Clara would arrive soon.The cocktail arrived about the same time as Clara. Angie was distracted by the waiter and having thanked him, looked up to see the girl standing there, all sexy brown eyes.
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