Page 27 of Semantics

“Can I get a drink?” Sarai asked, emerging from the garage.

“Text me what you want. I’ll bring it back,” Violet said and walked out, heading to where her car was parked in the driveway.

CHAPTER 8

After a lengthy conversation with Jen about how she’d messed things up with Amber, Stella had decided to let herself off the hook a little. Amber wasn’t ever going to be the woman she’d end up with. They could chat, yes, and Amber was gorgeous, so maybe they could’ve had a good time in bed, but she couldn’t see it going much further than that. Jen had eventually agreed with her after expressing her disappointment that it hadn’t worked out for the two of them, and Stella had then done some thinking on her own. With no alcohol involved, she’d taken a deep dive into her feelings about Amber versus the ones that she still seemed to have surrounding Violet.

Violet had been one of the most annoying people she’d ever met, but she had also been one of the hottest, and Stella had definitely noticed back then. Of course, Violet had made it clear to nearly the entire city that she was taken by that girlfriend back home, whom she’d mentioned all the damn time, and Stella hadn’t felt the need to come out to her, considering how they had felt about one another. Now, though, she found herself thinking more about Violet, the woman she used to hate and thought was incredibly rude, more than the woman she’d been on two dates with.

She was thinking about her right now, too, because Violet Russell was standing only about fifteen feet away from her, which couldn’t be the case. Stella had only just gotten off the phone with her about twenty minutes ago. Yet, it was the case. She was not hallucinating. Violet had just walked into the coffee shop where Stella had decided to work for a few hours that day to get out of the office.

“What are the fucking odds?” she muttered to herself.

She had started her day behind her desk, but not being able to stop thinking about one incredibly annoying woman and the agreement she hadn’t yet signed, along with the failed hangout over drinks, had had Stella distracted, so she’d thought she’d work from home, but after driving by this place, she’d decided to turn around and work from here until the end of the day. She’d responded to all Violet’s emails and had even had their very brief phone call from this spot, and now, Violet was joining the short line of people, preparing to order.

Stella turned away, trying to hide her face by looking out the window, hoping that Violet would just grab a coffee and maybe a pastry to-go, but when she glanced back at her, too curious for her own good, she noticed that the woman had her bag with her and knew that her computer was probably inside that bag.

“Maybe she’s just not the type to leave it in the car when she’s running errands,” she mumbled, thinking that yeah, that sounded just like the uptight Violet.

She returned her glance to the window, silently praying that Violet would leave the café without noticing her there, and when the barista called Violet’s name, Stella caught her coffee order. Apparently, Violet’s drink of choice was a large mocha with extra chocolate syrup and extra whipped cream. That didn’t seem like her at all, but Stella only had an idea of Violet and didn’t know her well enough to guess her coffee order.

What followed next was a sound of something metallic falling to the ground behind the counter, drawing Stella’s attention away from the window, and that was when Violet’s eyes met her own and Stella knew that she’d been caught.

Violet actually sighed. Like her entire body lifted a little and then fell back down as if the weight of the world was now on her shoulders because Stella happened to be sharing the same coffee shop with her at the moment. Stella wondered what she would do. The other night, Violet had fled the bar. Would she do the same now? Not even say hello and simply run out of the coffee shop with a hot cup of coffee in her hand? Would she exchange pleasantries and then run? Stella thought about standing up or, at least, waving to encourage her to come over, but she decided against it. The ball was in Violet’s court.

Violet took another moment, and Stella just stared and waited to see what she’d do. Then, Violet walked over toward Stella’s table, holding her cup of coffee and with her laptop bag on her shoulder. Stella expected the greeting and polite conversation, but what she got was something else. Violet sat down at the table next to hers, set her coffee cup down, and proceeded to pull out her computer, open it, and pretend like Stella wasn’t even there.

“You’re kidding, right? I’m not invisible, am I?”

“No, you are not invisible. But I came here to get some work done away from the office, and I did not expect to see you here. You also looked like you were working, so I didn’t want to interrupt you,” Violet said.

“I’m working, but we can take a second to say hello to one another, Violet.”

Violet turned her head toward her and replied, “Hello, Stella.”

“Hello, Violet.”

“What are you doing here?” Violet asked her.

“You just pointed out that I was working.”

“Yes, but you work at an office building where, I’d assume, you have an office of your own.”

“I do, yes. And sometimes, I work from there. Sometimes, I work from home. Today, I decided to stop here for coffee and get some work done.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to that, then. I won’t be long. I… I’ll just send a few emails and get out of your hair.”

“You don’t have to get out of my hair, Violet. It’s a café. You can stay here as long as you want. Or, at least, until they close and kick you out. I’m honestly surprised that you even stayed. I assumed you’d run like you did the other night at the bar.”

“I didn’t run,” Violet objected quickly and turned to face her completely. “I told you that something came up.”

“And that was a lie, wasn’t it?” Stella turned to face her, too. “You can just tell me.”

“It… wasn’t a lie,” Violet told her, clearly lying again. “I might have embellished the urgency.”

“So, a lie.” Stella laughed. “Why did you do that? You agreed to a drink. Then, you showed up with practically everyone you met in Amsterdam, like, ten years ago, crammed them into the booth with you, and ran right after I sat back down in a chair that I had to bring over myself for the drinks that we agreed to have together.”

“I didn’t run,” Violet argued again. “I left. There’s a difference.”