Her

By Lisa Ron

Fox has been looking for that one person who will make her feel complete-her perfect match.
Together with her friends, Megan and Tree, Fox continues her quest while dodging exes and clingers, laughing a lot along the way.
When she meets Penny, she instantly knows that she’s found HER.
Penny has her own problems-notably a domineering husband.
Can Fox win her heart? Can they make a life together?
This story will make you laugh, cry, and hold your breath as the story unfolds.
With the right person love can conquer all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Affinity Ebook Press NZ Ltd
• Release date: Jun 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781927282731

Book preview

Prologue

I dreamt of her again last night. Yet, while the dream was as vivid as always, I was left with only the idea of her. No image.

In the dream, she stood before me, her face in shadows, obscured from my view. Her hands reached out to me, beckoning me forward. Seeming to float, I moved toward her. Her long slender fingers gently grabbed my wrists, pulling me forward.

Happily, I submitted to her embrace, feeling her naked breasts press against mine, her skin silkily brushing against me, intoxicating me with sensation. Still, I couldn’t see her face, the one part of her I really wanted to see. Frustrated, I tried to cup her face with my hands and force it into the light.

Laughing lightly, she resisted, pulling away completely, turning from me. Watching the muscles in her naked back flow as she walked away, I felt entranced. Sexual desire and lust coursed through me, my blood warming and traveling as my need grew.

My head felt light as I again went to her, this time to a bed that suddenly appeared in the room. With a sure touch, she pushed me down onto that bed, not that I fought her any way. I was dying to see her, dying to see the face on this woman who had tormented my dreams too often, but I was also hungry for her touch.

With confidence born of shared love, she began to stroke my body, her caresses fanning the flame within me. I know I must have been moaning, but I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.

For the thousandth time I let myself sink into her love making, not knowing who she was or where she was. All I knew was that I would spend the rest of my life searching for her.

Chapter One

I could see the pain she was feeling. Brilliant blue eyes became hazy as tears formed and fell. I wanted so badly to reach out to her and comfort her.

Unfortunately, she was sitting two tables away and with a man who, though I could only see his back, seemed possessive. He was the cause of her tears.

Staring at her had become an afternoon obsession for me. I’d never seen her before and I’d never see her again, but for some reason she’d caught my eye, making me forget my afternoon appointments and any sanity I might have still claimed.

I’ll be the first to admit that women catch my eye all the time, turning my head so often that I am in a state of permanent whiplash. I like to look, to study their faces, and wonder if I could read their personality through a wrinkle here, an arched brow there. Faces told tales that bodies and minds could not. At least that’s what I had always believed. My friend Megan once told me that if I looked at women’s bodies the way I did their faces, I stood a chance at being what she called a lazy-eyed lesbian. You know the kind that will be sweet-talking one woman and then casually be checking out all the women around them. Yes, I looked, but I wasn’t looking for sex or a cheap thrill, I was just looking for her.

I know that one day I will see her and I will know that by looking at her face that she’s the one I’ve been waiting for. Her face will tell me that she’s supposed to be mine. That we’re supposed to come together to form one being.

I thought I’d found her many times. I’d see a woman across the room, or walking down the street, and I’d find her face fascinating. I would follow her until I worked up the courage to say something witty, usually something to make her laugh.

Needless to say, I’d heard many different kinds of laughter in my thirty-five years. But none of them had been her.

So, I made the decision to stop the heartbreak and live a celibate life of work and friends, keeping sex out of my life for good. Don’t get me wrong, I like sex but I could go without. The act of making love without her was simply an act. Nothing satisfied me in the way that I knew she would. Sitting back, out of the lesbian rat race, I thought I’d give her a chance to come to me. I’d stop looking for her in everything I did. I’d just live. But I was still preparing my life for her. Saving things that I’d one day want to show her, creating scrapbooks of my life before her.

I know, crazy right? Well, I think so. It’s so crazy that sometimes I annoy myself with my obsession with her. I don’t know what she’ll look like, her age, her hair color, or anything else that would be helpful to finding her. All I know is that she’ll complete me and that I’ll want to spend forever with her.

I’d done well with not looking for her.

Until today that is.

This woman across the restaurant was too intriguing. Too tempting to ignore. Her face told me a thousand things. Her eyes were expressive, her mouth full and tempting. I could feel my body heat rise as I tried to watch her discreetly. I had a clear line of vision. People passed between us, but overall, I could unobtrusively see her and the back of her lunch companion.

Now, while she looked to be an angel, he was definitely fitting into the asshole category. I was having serious problems with him. Generally, I’m not the man-hating-penis-destroying kind of lesbian. I don’t have a problem with them if they don’t have a problem with me. In fact, I cohabitate with one right now, which was as much of a PC statement as it was a money-saving deal. But this man that was with her was just too much. Cocky didn’t cover the amount of stuck-up, self-indulgent pride coming from this man. At least that was what I got from behind him. His posture and poise indicated all of this, as did the reaction he was causing her to have.

He seemed to be one of the I’m-bigger-than-this-life type of shmuck who went through life on the backs of millions of peons before him. I hated him on sight. The fact that he was causing the woman I was watching to frown often by saying things that caused tears to fill her eyes didn’t help his case. I began to envision numerous Lorena Bobbitt type crimes, making a note to find out what kind of punishment Lorena ended up with before I made any rash moves. But that train of thought didn’t last long as I gazed at her.

She wasn’t right for him. As I studied her face, trying to appear as though something was fascinating on the wall behind her, I could see her misery. It wasn’t the kind of misery that grew from a single event, but the kind that had festered during their years together, forming a mountain of misery within her. Something in me longed to move that mountain for her and to show her that she didn’t have to be miserable. Something akin to an ache inside of me longed to show her happiness and life.

Once again, my mind betrayed me. I wondered if it could be her that I was looking at. If she were the one that I had been searching for. Doubt filled me as I recalled the women before this moment, those that I thought had been the ones, who had only hurt and disappointed me. How could I know anymore? How could I trust myself? How could I trust my heart not to lead me once again into the arms of the wrong woman?

Even as I sat there and debated this with myself, I felt a longing to go and speak to the woman. Odd how our brain sometimes takes two paths, each path contradictory to the other. But, that’s neither here nor there I guess.

If you think that I’ll live like that, you have another thing coming! She stood up, her hands clenched into fists, her eyes flashing with anger. I am not your whore!

This was getting interesting. Very interesting indeed. I watched as she stormed off in the direction of the women’s bathroom. And now my dilemma increased. I could go after her and make myself useful. I envisioned walking in and finding her in tears, taking her into my arms and murmuring soft words of comfort into her ear.

Or, I could sit here as I have been for the past hour and a half and wait for the drama to unfold. But, I had to get up from the table and I had to make the trek to the bathroom. What if it was her? What if this was my only chance? If I missed it, would I get another one?

Putting both hands on the table, I pushed myself up and moved the chair back from the table at the same time. The loud screeching of the chair sliding across the floor seemed exceptionally loud to me, but no one else seemed to notice. Breathing deeply, I flexed mentally, trying to create a clear picture in my mind.

One foot in front of the other, I told myself as I walked to the bathroom, my heart pounding in my chest. One more deep breath and I pushed open the door to the women’s room.

She wasn’t in there. I checked the three stalls, each one of them empty. Turning, I looked into the mirror and saw my reflection staring back at me, the room behind me completely empty.

I had lost her.

Chapter Two

So, you just sat there for almost two hours watching her and didn’t say anything to her? Megan’s face registered disbelief and I felt my own face heat up in a blush. I had been telling her of my interesting encounter with the woman at the restaurant.

What was I supposed to do, walk up and say ‘Hey, I think you’re supposed to be with me’?

Megan was the only friend I had that knew everything about my quest for the one person who would complete me. She teased me often and made frequent disparaging remarks about my sanity, but overall, she was supportive. Each time I had realized, in the past, that I still hadn’t found her, it was Megan who had put her arms around me and told me not to give up.

You should have done something. Like, you could have gone up to that man she was with and told him to leave her the fuck alone.

She screwed up her face into what I supposed was her version of fierce. With her small build and elfin face, she looked like a very upset monkey. I couldn’t help myself. I started to laugh loudly. After holding her expression for a few moments, she relaxed her facial muscles and began to laugh herself, a bubbly sound escaping from her mouth, making me laugh even harder.

Leaning toward her, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a tight bear hug.

Oh M, you really know how to make me lighten up, I said through my laughter.

Hiccupping, she pulled back and gave me a brilliant smile. That’s my job, Spooky, she said, using the nickname she’d given to me after the X-Files premiered on TV. I’m just glad that you’ve learned to laugh at yourself. You used to be a real pain before that.

She was right. I had been a pain. Mostly because I was in pain. It had been a difficult road to learn to laugh at myself, but once I had, the world became a different place.

Flopping down on her giant king-sized bed, Megan stared up at the ceiling. So, now what?

I flopped down next to her, putting my head against hers and joining the path of her eyes. Her ceiling had those little glow-in-the-dark stars that they sold for kids. She’d created various patterns with them, forming what she called Star Art. For about a week, she seriously considered charging money to go into other people’s houses and create these works of art on their ceilings. But, like most of Megan’s ideas, it hadn’t lasted.

When’s Tree coming home?

Tree was short for Theresa, her girlfriend. They’d been together for almost two years, coming close to that dangerous point in lesbian relationships. I wished them luck, having never surpassed the two-year mark myself.

Shrugging, Megan’s voice took on a serious tone. I think she’s cheating on me.

Sitting up, I looked at her in shock. Tree was one of those women who were so loyal that they didn’t even see anyone else. Her vision was on Megan and that was it.

What? Why do you think that?

I had always thought that if anyone in their relationship would stray, it would have been Megan.

Shrugging again, her eyes didn’t leave the ceiling. "I heard her talking the other day with Joanne and when I came around they shut up really quickly and gave me one of those smiles."

I didn’t need to ask what she meant. I had seen the smile directed at myself too many times. But you don’t have any proof?

Finally, Megan turned her head and looked at me, her eyes blazing with hurt. What proof do I need? She’s been spending free time with Joanne these days instead of with me. Turning her head back to look up, she finished quietly. At least that’s what she says.

I felt as though I were the one being cheated on. My chest began to ache and my head grew cloudy. One of the things that Tree and I had in common was our loyalty. I had never, ever thought her capable of cheating on Megan, or causing her that much pain.

We lay there in silence for I don’t know how long. Megan lost in her thoughts and me in mine. The woman from the restaurant haunted my thoughts, mingling with my sadness for Megan and my disbelief of Tree’s actions.

What was happening to a world where two people couldn’t fall in love without something destroying that love? Why had human nature become so damn dishonest? I told myself that it was all bullshit because people had been cheating on one another and hurting one another since time began. It was a never-ending cycle that didn’t show any sign of stopping in the near future. It all made me so sad that tears began escaping my eyes before I could stop them.

What was the point of looking for completion when there was no guarantee that it would last? What happened to faithfulness and to hope and to dreams? What happened to love and the simple desire for one person?

It was with these thoughts in my mind that I got up from Megan’s bed and said my good-byes. Slowly, I walked out her front door and headed toward my car.

Hey, stranger, Tree’s familiar voice boomed out at me. She was a large woman, tall and muscular. To look at her, you would think that she was a cheater from way back, but in truth, she was a complete teddy bear.

I glared at her and started to walk by without saying anything. She grabbed my arm and stopped me. Hey, I need to talk to you about something, something important.

I stopped and waited for her to tell me that she was cheating on my best friend and that she wanted me to break the news to her.

I’ve been planning a surprise two year anniversary party for Megan. Joanne’s been helping me with the arrangements, but I need you to help get Meg to the party without her suspecting. She stopped talking when she saw the look of surprise on my face. What, you don’t think it’s a good idea? She looked worried. I thought she’d like it.

No…no, it’s a great idea, I managed to say. Tree, she thinks you’re cheating on her. The words just flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Blanching, Tree looked as though I’d punched her in the gut. What? Her voice was soft and filled with pain. Gripping my arm tighter, she seemed to be leaning on me for support as though her knees were too weak to hold her.

She thinks you’re cheating on her, I repeated. Says you’ve been spending more time with Joanne than with her.

Eyes wide, Tree began to shake her head. No! No, I was planning this party!

Suddenly she grabbed me by both shoulders. You’ve got to believe me! I would never, ever hurt her! Oh, God!

She looked like she was going to throw up so I backed off quickly.

I believe you Tree, I believe you. I tried to reassure her because I did believe her. But you need to make Megan believe you.

Megan! Tree suddenly stood straight and ran into the house, leaving me outside alone. I could see her and Megan in the living room. Tree looked like she was crying and I saw Megan practically jump into her arms.

Well, maybe the world wasn’t as bad as I thought.

Chapter Three

A knock at my office door interrupted my thoughts. Looking up, I saw my secretary, Marie, standing at the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

Fox? I wanted to tell you that they asked again about the Astoria account. Her voice was soft. Is everything okay?

My work was suffering. I know it and she knew it. She’d worked for me for five years, having been with me longer than any of my girlfriends. She knew my nuances and my habits better than anyone else.

I’m okay. Where are the files for the account?

Advertising had a lot of files. I discovered that my first day on the job when I was an apprentice for my mentor and then lover, Annie Cantor. That was eleven years ago, and she was long gone, leaving me her legacy at the firm, and her office.

Coming into my office, Marie stopped in front of my desk and began thumbing through one of the piles there. Finally, pulling out one from the bottom, she handed it to me.

Show off, I muttered, catching her grin in return.

We had a good relationship. She had found out I was a lesbian almost two years ago, and since then had taken to adding a bit of flirting to her normal attitude. Having met her six foot three inch tall husband, I, of course, didn’t flirt back. But, it gave the office a not altogether unpleasant spin.

Suddenly, she put her hand over mine. I looked first at our hands and then I looked up at her. Listen, if you need anything, I’m here.

And then she was gone, only the hint of her perfume left on the air.

Very interesting, I thought to myself. I guess I had always thought that I left a cold presence at work, never really presenting myself as the human being I was in my personal life. Looking out my door, knowing that Marie was sitting outside at her desk, I began to rethink my assessment of myself.

Even with the folder sitting in my hands, a reminder of my responsibility, my thoughts began to drift.

She haunted me. The woman from the restaurant visited my dreams frequently. I try to forget her, try to shake the feeling of need I get when I think of her. Try to do many things, never succeeding. She gets in the way each time. In my mind, she had become synonymous with the one I’d been looking for all these years. Dangerous, I know, but I couldn’t control myself. Every waking moment passed with thoughts of her.

I got up from my desk chair and looked through the small window in my office. The day was gray with the spring sun barely showing through. My window looked out into a small courtyard area. The rest of the building surrounded it on five sides, leaving only the very top open. By looking up, I could see a small patch of sky. On good days, the sun would slip through and shine into my office, but most days I was stuck with just the electric glow of the lights overhead.

Today I noticed the building itself. Built in the 1930s, it was a gray color. Whether it was originally built gray, or whether industrial waste had turned it gray, I wasn’t sure. But it was gray nonetheless. I thought it fitting to my mood, so I studied it longer, taking in the shape and texture, noticing where chips of brick had come off through time. Tears filled my eyes as I realized that the chips off the building were so like the chips off my heart.

Life had taken a toll that I tried to ignore. But, when I was vulnerable, I could feel it. And this woman, just the thought of this woman, made me vulnerable. I was tired. Tired of looking, tired of waiting. Just tired.

Sighing, I closed my eyes for the hundredth time and saw her. Her eyes bored into me, as though she could see my soul. She smiled at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners, becoming slits which twinkled in my direction. Her mouth, full and wet, curved up at the ends, opening slightly almost as though she were deliberately tempting me. I, of course, was tempted, as she seemed to know I would be. Tempted to taste those lips, tempted to explore her mouth with my tongue and teeth, making love to her mouth with all the passion and fire in me.

Fire. That’s what I felt. I opened my eyes in surprise. For days, I’d tried to figure out what was so damn compelling about the woman, what it was that had grabbed my attention. It wasn’t how she looked, although I would swear on a stack of The Well of Loneliness that she was the most magnificent creature on this earth. It wasn’t the penetrating eyes, or the luscious mouth. She had aroused a fire in me. Not sexual arousal, although that was one of the forms it took, but a fire of need and desire, wanting and lusting, and so much more. All for this woman, who hadn’t even looked my way one time.

Damn, I needed to get it together. I was losing my mind, losing my sanity, losing my one grasp on life. It was time to talk to David.

†

Pulling up into the driveway of the three-story house I shared with David, I became nervous. Now, don’t misunderstand, David and I get along very well. However, he hasn’t always been the most supportive of my search for her. He had a tendency to give me sharp doses of reality from time to time, which would really help, but hurt nonetheless. That’s why I wanted to talk to him. He’d set me straight, so-to-speak. He’d tell me I was being stupid and to get my head out of the sand.

I slammed my car door as usual, waiting for the loud barking that would start. Sure enough, Toto, my cocker spaniel, came flying at me from behind the azalea bushes David had planted last spring.

T, are you eating Uncle Davey’s bushes again? I admonished her in a serious tone that she knew was without sincerity. Jumping up and down by my legs as I walked, she barked continuously, telling me about her day. Toto was a gift I had given to an ex-lover after she and I watched Lady and the Tramp and she’d swooned about the puppies at the end. But, it was a series of mistakes, the first being naming the poor dog Toto. When we broke up, I kept the dog because she proclaimed that she was allergic and anyway, I liked the dog more than I liked her. That was fine with me; she was a good little dog.

If I hear you call me Davey one more time, I’m going to go into your closet and replace all your pants with skirts.

A voice floated to me from an open window on the second floor.

You and what army? I shouted back up to him.

Me and the fag hags will do you in!

Ha! I’ll convert them all to the grand religion of lesbianism and you’ll never hear from them again.

Damn, they aren’t that good looking. I wouldn’t bother. His reply was sensible. He had a slew of heterosexual women friends who loved to hang all over him. My aunt once told me that a gay man is a girl’s best friend. The fag hags took that to heart. The security offered by David, combined with the fact that he was still male, gave him some kind of allure to them. I’d seen it before, but I still didn’t understand it and I didn’t really think that I wanted to. And truthfully, they weren’t a very attractive lot.

Opening the door with my key, I dropped my briefcase by the door and braced myself for the next attack. My two teenage cats came at me, each one meowing as loud as possible, moving as quickly as their little feet would allow. Crouching down, I said hello to each of them and gave them each the obligatory pat on the head and scratch under the chin. That done, I was free to find David.

The entire second floor of the house was devoted to David and his hobbies, leaving the third floor to me and mine. I climbed the stairs slowly, feeling the day weigh me down. Finally, I reached the second floor landing and found David in the third room. He sat in front of a giant mirror, which was attached to a vanity covered in makeup. Drag was a part of David’s life, not a career choice. Facing the mirror, which had lights around it like you would see in the theater, he was puckering as he applied lipstick.

I thought you weren’t going to do blonde anymore, I said, referring to the wig he wore.

I wasn’t, he sighed. But Dwayne really likes me as a blonde.

Flipping his hand through the air, he dismissed his own concerns. Dwayne was his newest lover, one of the hundreds that had stormed through David’s life.

How is the boy? I didn’t like Dwayne. Let me rephrase that, I didn’t like the way David acted for Dwayne’s sake. I hated watching David jump through hoops to impress a man who would fuck him and dump him all in one breath.

Ignoring whatever connotation there might have been in my question, David answered. He’s doing well. We are going to the theater tonight.

Rubbing the lipstick off his mouth, he proceeded to try a different shade.

Sitting down in the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room, I watched him in silence. He finally stopped studying his lips and turned to face me. You’re sitting. Must mean you need to talk. Repositioning himself, David crossed his legs and leaned forward. Go ahead, sweets, tell me everything.

Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward, almost matching his position. I think I found her.

I was expecting him to roll his eyes and tell me that I was crazy. The last thing I expected was for tears to fill his eyes. Are you sure? he asked breathlessly, his brown eyes taking on what I would describe as a dreamy look.

Well, I mean, I’m not completely sure, but I think she is. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I waited till I saw that I had his full attention again.

Tell me about her.

I was surprised that he wanted to know. Normally, we both talked about our love lives in general terms, neither of us going into detail. She’s all I think about. I dream about her day and night. It's like she’s in the air and I breathe her into me. I could feel myself slip into some kind of fantasy, seeing her before me, calling to me. The passion and need I felt well up inside of me took my breath, leaving me floating in some kind of strange place between reality and dreams.

David’s face had that dreamy look again. "When you hold her in your arms does it feel like you’ve been there all