It Started with a Unicorn

My heart did a double-flip. I'd been carrying her business card in my purse, taking it out and looking at it about every five minutes since the party.

Yeah.

"How classic? 'Casablanca' classic?"

"Could be. Are you up for takeout of some kind?"

"Sure. What time and what can I bring?"

"How about six o'clock? And no, don't bother bringing anything."

"Six works for me. Will there be...?"

"No, just us. I..." She paused, surprising me.

"Is... is that OK?" Her voice sounded uncertain.

"Oh. Oh, yes. It's totally OK. Casual?"

"Very."

I heard the door chime ring out in the shop. "I have to go, Shannon. Thank you."

"Six o'clock tomorrow?"

"See you." I hung up.

A woman was inspecting a Happy Birthday banner on display. No need to get involved for a few more seconds.

"So?" Mr. Hanan could ask more with fewer words than anybody I knew.

"Going to her place to hang out and watch old movies."

His eyebrows rose.

"Good for you! All work and no play makes Jane..."

I didn't need his approval, but it felt good. He was a nice boss.

The woman turned, a question on her face.

+

Shannon had said 'casual', which of course has about half a dozen meanings. I tried on this outfit, then that one. I held up a couple of cute dresses to explore the fancier end of casual. I eventually settled on a really good pair of jeans and a wide-striped top, long-sleeved with just a bit of a scoop at the neck. I pulled on a jeans jacket and smiled at the girl in the mirror. She -- I -- looked good.

The obvious question was 'good for what, precisely?' To that, I wasn't quite sure. I looked at the mirror again and decided to leave the question unanswered. I'm just going to hang out with a new friend.

Shannon had also said not to bring anything, but there was a florist on the way. I settled on a nice bouquet, something bright and colourful to match the fall leaves.

"You shouldn't have!" she exclaimed when she opened the apartment door and saw the bundle in my hands.

Well, yeah, this is about the only time when No really means Yes, but it was still nice to see that I'd made a good choice. She bustled about with a vase and a sharp knife and the flowers were soon settled in their new home.

"They're lovely, Sydney. Thank you." It was a really sweet smile. I tried to match it.

She set the vase on a table, eyed me.

"I was thinking of a pizza," she said. "What do you like?"

"Anything but pineapple or anchovies. Unless you insist."

She dug out her phone, thumbed at the screen. "How about this one?" She pointed at it. "Margherita pizza - basil, fresh mozzarella, and tomatoes. I've used this place before; they're pretty good."

"Could we add mushrooms to that?"

She grinned. "I like your style. Give me a minute." She thumbed at her phone. "There. Half an hour before it arrives. What would you like to drink?"

"Um, is there any more of that San Pellegrino left? Please."

One eyebrow went up a little.

"Sure. If that's what you'd really like." She turned to the refrigerator. "You don't have to explain, but don't you drink at all or what?"

I blushed. "Um. Shannon, I don't want to get you in trouble. I'm still underage."

She turned, both eyebrows up and mouth open in a slight O.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"S'ok, I guess, but the cops have been taking it very seriously around here lately."

"How old are  you?"

"Um, 20?" My voice sounded squeaky. My blush deepened.

She put out her arms again and I again stepped into her embrace.

"Hon," she whispered, "I think it's me who had embarrassed you. I'm sorry."

She chuckled.

"What?"

"When you said 'underage' a minute ago, I figured you meant you were like 13 or 14 years old."

I giggled myself. "Do I look 13?"

"Hardly, but you never know. Now be honest, Sydney. There's nobody here but us girls, I don't judge and I ain't a cop. Would you like a drink or would you prefer soda? It's cool either way."

I bit my lip gently. "I wouldn't mind a glass of red wine, then. Please?"

Her arms tightened in a brief bearhug.

"That's my girl! One Argentinian Malbec, coming up! But just one, I promise."

Turning me loose, Shannon produced a pair of enormous wine glasses, thin as my senator's ethical standards. She poured a generous splash into each.

We tapped glasses slightly. I sniffed, closed my eyes and smiled. "This smells very good. Thank you." I took a sip and my smile grew. It was far better than the thin stuff I'd had before.

"C'mon," she said. "Let's pick out a movie before the pizza arrives. No point in wasting hot pizza thumbing over DVDs."

"DVDs? Really?"

"Call me atavistic. I inherited a bunch and then started collecting. And if I like one, I'll always have it.

"Here," she said, pointing at a pile the size of a small loaf of bread on a coffee table. "I picked out some good ones. Your choice or you can find another if you want." Her thumb pointed at a large unit with dozens of shelves holding rows of little plastic boxes.

I put down my glass and sorted through the small stack. Titanic, You've Got Mail, Breakfast at Tiffany's...

My eyebrows high, I held one up. "Fifty Shades of Grey, Shannon?"

"Oops. Wrong pile." Her grin was a bit ragged. "Put that aside, sorry."

I looked at her, licked my lips, put it back on the table. By itself.

The others included Out of Africa, Gone with the Wind and a selection of Sex and the City episodes. She had a formidable collection indeed.

Her tastes and mine meshed pretty well, I thought. I picked out two — Breakfast at Tiffany's and Titanic — both seriously 'chick' and seriously 'flick'. On impulse, I giggled, added Fifty Shades and passed the three to back to her.

"Your choice," I grinned.

She looked at the three, then at me. Her eyes held mine for a long time before she shrugged. "Shouldn't tempt me, kid. But Hepburn and Peppard -- I can never decide which is cuter, grrrr!" She made a ferocious face and I laughed.

The buzzer rang.

"That'll be the pizza. Plates are over the microwave."

Five minutes later, we were watching Holly Golightly strolling down Fifth Avenue. My first sniffle wasn't until Paul heard her singing on the fire escape. I looked at Shannon and she was a little teary, too. It worked out. We didn't get a good happy cry though until the final scene -- who can resist the two of them kissing in the rain?

Shannon took away the plates, brought a box of tissues and the wine bottle.

We blew our noses and she sat down again, closer this time, holding out the wine bottle in invitation.

"I shouldn't," I said, "but OK. That was fun. Thank you."

"No problem, hon." She poured -- a small one.

I looked around. "This is an amazing apartment, Shannon."

"Thank you. Would you care to see the rest of it?"

I nodded. So far, I'd only seen the living room and the kitchen.

The place was huge. The ceilings were maybe ten feet high and made of what I think was knotty pine. The main bathroom was about the size of my entire apartment. There were two bedrooms, one obviously hers and another a spare, converted into a combination office and gym, with some impressive exercise machines scattered around. Shannon's desk had, no kidding, three big computer monitors on it, with another really big one on the wall. And then, a third room...

"Wow!" My eyes kind of bugged out. A very large free-standing oval-shaped bathtub sat in the very corner, almost surrounded by ceiling-high windows.

No, I take it back. It wasn't a tub -- more of a hot tub, I guess, one easily big enough for three or four people. The broad single-paned windows had a sweeping view of the city beyond and the water in in the tub was still enough that I could see the reflection of the stars outside.

"This is so cool, Shannon!"

"Hey! You think that's something? Watch this!"

She flipped what looked like an ordinary light switch. There was a soft hissing and the windows -- four massive panes -- began to move, sliding away back into the walls, leaving the hot tub open to the outside. I shivered as an early November breeze blew in. Steam began to rise from the warm water.

"How could you sit in here with the windows open? I can see it in the summer, but it's November!"

Chucking, she flipped a second switch. A bank of ceiling-mounted infrared heat lamps began to glow and I felt much warmer.

"That's better!"

"You don't really need those once you're in the water," she explained. "Even in January." She turned them off.

Her finger flipped a third switch. I heard a low hum and the surface of the water began to swirl.

I was most impressed. "It's really nice, Shannon."

"It is, isn't it?" Her arm moved from the switches, came to rest on my shoulder. She pulled me into a gentle, friendly hug. It felt good and I leaned into it.

"Want to try it out?" Her voice was careful, soft, anything but pressing.

Maybe it's time to explain...

Look, I can deal with men. Well, most of the time. I do love my dad. And I get along with my brothers, usually, to some degree. And I understand that most women find men attractive, even appealing. But, putting it on the table, in my world boys basically exist to lift heavy objects and deal with automobile mechanics. They're bristly, uncoordinated, socially inept and, OK, even right out of the shower, they just don't smell  right to me.

I'd tried, Heaven knows. I started drawing looks of masculine approval from the moment I hit womanhood, but it felt weird, not something to be remotely happy or proud about. I dated a bit in high school but it was an embarrassing dead end. Kissing was awkward and anything more than holding hands was simply creepy. There was just no joy there, not for Sydney.

Fortunately, it was easy to cultivate a reputation as a hardworking scholastic overachiever and I eased myself out of the dating pool. Living at home, surrounded by protective big brothers and loving but very traditional parental attention, any thoughts I had about alternatives were pretty well buried. It was a frustrating and confusing time and moving out into my own place a few months ago hadn't made the world any easier or less confusing.

And now Shannon was asking me to join her in her hot tub. Uncertainty squared.

My voice was even softer than hers. "I didn't bring a suit."

Right. Go, Team Sydney!   Virgin on about six different levels. And nervous. And hesitant. And a whole raftload of other things. Just for starters, not counting my mom and my doctor, I'd never been even topless with another woman. Even the high school gym had had separate showers and while I'd dreamed and not-quite-dared, no, I hadn't. Not at all.

Shannon must have caught my timidity, for she pulled her arm off my shoulder and turned towards me.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. If it's something you're not used to, I understand. Truly."

Her eyes were soft, reassuring.

My mind was whirling. It's just skinny-dipping, silly! And the place is gorgeous. And she's not really...

"No," I said. "No, it's something I'm not used to, Shannon. But everything has to start somewhere."

I took a deep breath. "So, yes. Yes, thank you. I would love to try it out, please."

Perhaps trying to make it easier on me, she led me into her office, opened the closet and pulled out a cotton dressing gown, simple but quite pretty. Her voice was gentle.

"You can change in here and get into the tub if you want. I'll join you in a minute or two." She kissed my cheek gently and stepped out, closing the door after her. I stood there for a few seconds, unsure of myself, trying to work up my courage.

It's OK, Sydney. This will be fine.

I shrugged, undressed, hung my clothes in the closet before wrapping the robe around myself and quietly opening the door.

I could hear Shannon in the kitchen.

"You OK, Sydney?" She wasn't in view, but her voice was clear.

"Yes. Thanks."

"Get in if you wish. Or not. I'll be along in a minute or two. Would you like another drink? Something to nibble on?"

"A tea, maybe?" I said, then, "No, Shannon, surprise me. And, thank you, but I'm still stuffed from that pizza."

"OK. I'll be along in a minute."

I went into the corner room. It was quite cool with the windows open, but hardly unbearable. I stuck my fingers in the rippling water, shook them off. I looked around, took off the housecoat and hung it on a hook on the wall.

The wind outside came up and I shivered suddenly. I put my toes into the water, found it wonderful, slid one leg in, then stepped over the tub wall and stood thigh-deep. The breeze on my torso was still cold, but I felt better. I looked out at the buildings and streetlights below. It occurred to me that somebody might be watching me, decided that I was far enough away from everything else that it didn't matter.

"You decent? Shannon's voice startled me from the hallway. "May I come in?"

Embarrassed, I dropped down neck-deep into the water, found a seat on a ledge facing the doorway.

"I'm fine."

Shannon entered wearing a lovely robe, pink with embroidered flowers. In one hand was a bottle and in the other two champagne flutes. She smiled at me, kept her eyes above the waterline and I was suddenly embarrassed at her not  staring.

"Champagne is my favorite drink for here. Is that OK by you?"

I nodded. She poured a glass, held it out to me, poured another and set it and the bottle on a stool beside the hot tub.

She moved to the wall, seemingly totally at ease, her robe sliding off her arms and shoulders as she walked. I'd thought her bum impressive before. Nude, it was stunning and I felt a little pang of jealousy.

Hanging the garment on a hook, she turned. My breath caught as she stepped very casually to the tub, her hands tying up her long hair as she moved. Her sex was bare but for a carefully-trimmed landing strip and her boobs high, firm and full. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Her hair up, she smiled, picked up her flute and sipped from it very casually, seemingly completely at ease. Still holding the glass, she lifted one leg up into the tub, then the other. She eased herself down into the water, shifted until she found a seat, leaned back against the wall an arm-length from me. Not until her body was hidden under the water did she turn to look at me and I realized that nudity ignored was essentially the same thing as nudity covered.

She held up her flute towards me. "Cheers!"

I touched my glass against hers with a tiny tink . "Thank you, Shannon. This is lovely."

Her smile was what I needed, I thought, open and warm.

"It is a nice view, isn't it? You can see the airport over there." She pointed. "The airplanes taking off are maybe the funnest thing here."

"Funnest?"

"You know what I mean. Look, there goes one now."

The high-rise condo itself being on a hillside, it was indeed a special view. Not many people get to watch airplanes take off from above. And she'd been right about the warm water; yes, the room was cold, but I was quite comfortable. And the water swirling around and over my bare body was delightful - relaxing and exciting at the same time.

The wonder of being there grew on me. It was a peaceful, privileged place, one high above all the troubles of the world.

We talked of this and that. Grace was in Mexico with her father for the next 10 days. No, she hadn't called, but she was still only six. No, no boyfriend; it was too close to her divorce for her to want to be dating. Yes, I'd like another glass, please. She was an only child; I had two brothers, one working on a law degree and the other an apprentice electrician. I liked indie music; her tastes ran more to folk. No, I'd never been to Europe. She felt that the secret to her success in the market was meticulous attention to details.

With that last, she turned from looking out at the city, looked at me "So, Sydney. Classes."

"Classes?"

"Classes. The last time you were here, you said you had an early class. You're not making costumes a career?"

"Oh. No. I mean yes. I'm doing a Business degree part-time."

"Really?" I saw sudden interest in her eyes. "How far along are you?"

"I've got about 75 credits. There's no hurry, I figure. I won't have much student debt when I graduate and will be able to look for a job I like instead of rushing to find something before the loans start coming due."

Her head tilted a bit and her eyes locked on mine.

"That's a very mature way of thinking."

"I like to think so."

She looked deep in thought for a moment. I was surprised to see her blush a little.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just a silly thought."

The blush faded and her eyes changed somehow, seemed to be more, I don't know, appraising?  I felt I was being assessed somehow.

She shifted, turned a little towards me. I could see the shape of her breasts just under the water, turned my head away to look at the city below.

I had been feeling less confused, less timorous, more comfortable about being like this. Suddenly, I was very, very aware of my nakedness, of being in a tub with an elegant, powerful, successful woman, somebody outclassing me in just about every way.

And, I realized, a woman I was finding seriously attractive. Sexually attractive. That insight just crystalized. I felt myself go red, more so that the hot water had managed.

I had absolutely no idea what to do or say next. I guess I it was pretty obvious.

I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

"Sydney. Are you OK? You look like you could do with a hug."

Right at that moment, I needed a friendly hug more than just about anything in the world and at the same time no, no and hell, no!  I was so uncertain, so conflicted. I reminded myself that courage wasn't just found in battles. Being friends, making new friends, those take courage, too.

I nodded gently, felt her arms come around my neck, pull me around to face her partway, pull us together, one around my neck, the other on my back, well clear of my bum.

Her bare boobs against mine felt strange, yet at the same time also very good. Her comforting arms felt even better. I had  needed this. I let myself relax, put my head on her shoulder. I was unsure what to do with my hands, so I let one come down to rest on her thigh; that much felt good.

We sat there for a couple of minutes, not moving, the water seething and bubbling around us. Suddenly, Shannon's body became stiff, as if she had just thought of something.

"What?" I asked.

Her voice when she spoke was very soft, but I could sense unease in it.

"Sydney? When I invited you...? I mean, when I offered..."

I felt her finger touch my chin, gently but irresistibly turn my face to hers. I couldn't read her expression.

"Have I offended you?"

"No," I murmured. "No. I'm just... confused."

I felt my skin go absolutely scarlet. I turned my eyes away.

"Confused?" Her word was so soft, yet it seemed to echo in front of me.

"Oh my God," she whispered to herself.

Her hands pulled away suddenly.

Her voice was hesitant. "Sydney, may I ask you something?"

Here it comes,  I thought. I was pretty sure I knew what she was going to ask, but how could I not be honest?

"Hon, is this... the first... the first time you've been... alone with another woman? Like this, I mean?"

Nailed it!

"Yes." I could barely hear my reply above the jetted water.

With that, she moved well away from me. Her face was filled with remorse now, realization filling her eyes.

Her hand came up, almost touched my cheek, fell.