The Artist – Three Lesbian Stories By Jacqueline Pouliot

By Jacqueline Pouliot

Three lesbian romance novellas by Jacqueline Pouliot, author of The Wedding, Dancing Barefoot, Dominque and Click!
The Artist, The Cook's Garden & Bruised are three stories of lesbian romance, two women finding each other by chance or design with a warm and happy conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781291867749

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The Artist – Three Lesbian Stories By Jacqueline Pouliot

The Artist – Three Lesbian Stories by Jacqueline Pouliot

Jacqueline Pouliot

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Copyright © 2014 Lulu Press

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-291-86774-9

The Artist

Chewing the end of the paintbrush, I stared at the canvas.

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t going the way I saw the finished painting in my mind. It was close but not exactly how I saw it. Maybe the deadline was pushing me in the wrong direction.

Suddenly I had a lot of pressure in my life and I did not like it.

My mobile rang and I answered it without looking, eyes still on the canvas.

‘Yes?’

‘Billie? It’s Lois.’

‘Christ Lois, I said I wasn’t working tonight!’

‘I know, I know but that bitch Selene called in claiming she’s sick which we both know is total bullshit! She’s probably reconnected with her girlfriend again. You know what they say…’

'Say about what?'

‘That lesbian relationships break up an average of four times before they survive?’

'Oh, that old thing,' I said, tired and bored.

Lois and I had this conversation regularly. She was worried as she hadn't broken up once with her girlfriend and they had been together a whole seven months! In lesbian time (similar to dog years) that was equal to over a year!

‘That’s the one…’

‘That’s garbage…’

‘I’ve been around a long time, Billie, and I have to tell you, it kind of works. Anyway, forget the theories. I’m in a bind, sweetie. Can you come in and do the early shift?’

'I have plans, Lois...'

'It's just the early shift. It won't be busy. Mel and Cynthia said they'd come in early to take over from you.'

‘There must be others who can work the bar, Lois.’

‘Not as good as you and they try to score with the customers rather than mixing cocktails. You don’t do that! Sweetie, I’ll pay you extra.’

‘How much extra?’ I asked warily.

‘Fifty?’

‘Plus tips?’

‘Deal! We open in an hour.’

‘That early?’

‘There’s two big conventions on so there will be hundreds of delegates roaming the streets tonight. Got to be a few gay girls in that lot who want a dyke bar! Good tips,’ she added persuasively.

‘I’ll be there,’ I said with a sigh and Lois hung up before I could change my mind.

Lois was arguing with the kitchen staff when I walked into the bar so I waved to her as I slipped into the staff area.

I hung my leather jacket in a locker and carefully put my brown Fedora on the top shelf.

I loved that vintage hat ever since I discovered it in a retro clothing store. It fitted perfectly, I didn't have to pay too much attention to my hair and I loved that the hat had a history as it had been made by the famous hat maker Borsalino.

Putting my scarf and gloves near the hat, I closed the door and locked it, slipping the key into the pocket of my black jeans.

A quick look in the mirror to make sure I was decent, white sleeveless T-shirt, jeans, black sneakers, I ran my fingers through my dark short hair in a vain attempt to tame the curls.

That’ll do!

I like to have everything at my fingertips so I rearranged the bottles behind the bar and made sure the shakers were all clean. Some of the glasses had spots on them so I ran them through the dishwasher.

‘Nobody takes care of the details like you do, Billie.’

I looked up and saw Lois leaning against the bar, a fat cigar tucked over her left ear. That cigar would stay there until the final receipts were counted and the bar locked. Then, Lois would smoke the cigar while waiting for her girlfriend to pick her up.

‘How’s the painting going?’ Lois asked.

I shrugged. There was no point trying to explain to a non-artist.

‘Oh,’ Lois said with a frown. ‘Not good, eh? You going to make it?’

‘I need twenty four paintings. I have eighteen so it’s going to be touch and go. I can’t ask for more time as the gallery has promoted my exhibition. I had planned to paint all night tonight,’ I accused.

‘Sorry.’

‘At least try to sound like you mean it, Lois.’

We both watched a young woman walk to the stage with a young man. They were both carrying guitar cases.

‘Is that the act?’

‘The girl is,’ Lois said. ‘She sings like an angel.’

‘She’s pretty enough so she’ll get the customers attention. Who’s the guy?’

‘Boyfriend.’

‘Boyfriend? She’s straight?’

‘Apparently,’ Lois said dryly.

‘And singing in a lesbian bar?’

‘Why not?’ Lois said with a wink. ‘We don’t discriminate!’

She moved to the stage and I watched her put her arms around the shoulders of the girl and her boyfriend, encouraging them as the girl was plainly nervous.

I returned to setting up the bar, ready for the doors to open.

The regulars trickled in for an hour after the doors opened and then, suddenly, there were a few groups of women in corporate dress. They stayed close together and I recognised the type! Women who wanted to say, "Of course I’ve been to a lesbian bar! I’m open minded!"

They all wanted cocktails and I saw they were in the mood for a little fun now they were far from the prying eyes of home.

A few regulars began circling the groups and making moves. The newbies looked a little flustered and I smiled to myself as I focused on making cocktails. Some nights, the bar was like the ocean with little nervous fish circled by hungry sharks!

The singer began singing earnest songs in a sugary sweet voice while her boyfriend played the guitar with her. I guessed he was there to protect his girlfriend as he kept scowling at the audience.

Half way through my shift, the doors opened and a woman in a red dress slipped inside. The dress had my attention as it was definitely a party dress! Bare shoulders, ample cleavage and red fabric tight around the hips with a short hem.

Nervously, she stood close to the wall, clutching her purse in both hands, and looked around. No one paid any attention to her but one glance at the blonde hair and the angelic face with big blue eyes combined with that dress told me she would soon have plenty of attention when she was finally noticed.

Still clutching her purse, she slipped through the crowd and to the bar where she perched on a stool.

I nodded, placed a coaster on the bar and asked, ‘What would you like?’

What big eyes you have, little red riding hood!

'I don't know.'

She looked around while I studied her hair, guessing she was a natural blonde as her hair did not have that hairdresser sheen.

'You just have cocktails here?'

'No. We have everything. What would you like?'

'Wine?'

'White?'

'Yes. How did you know?'

'A guess. Dry or fruity?'

She giggled nervously. 'Fruity?'

'Yes, like a Riesling?'

'Isn't fruity a gay term?'

She seemed uncertain and very nervous. It was, I felt, adorable but resolved to resist her.

'For guys. Not women. Now, dry or...?'

'A glass of Riesling would be great.'

'Coming up.'

Some of the audience had gathered around the singer who was warbling through an acoustic version of the Lorde song Royal.

The boyfriend was still scowling but the butches in the audience couldn't care less about him or the music. They were all focused on the singer! One glance at the singer told me she knew she had their attention! Maybe the boyfriend had a reason to scowl.

'Here you go,' I said, placing the wineglass in front of her.

Carol, a regular, slid onto the stool next to the blonde angel and said 'Hi there, cutey.'

I heard the angel nervously answer 'Hello,' as I walked back to check the mixers and the kegs.

'Are you new in town?' Carol said. 'San Francisco is a great place. I could show you around. '

Something got to me! I whirled around and taunted, 'Christ, Carol! Is that the best line you've got?'

Carol scowled at me. 'What do you care, Billie?' she demanded coldly.

I glanced at the pretty girl and muttered, 'I don't, I guess. What would you like to drink, Carol?'

'The usual and I'll buy you a drink, cutey,' Carol said to the object of her attention.

'No need. I just popped in for a drink. I have to go in a minute?'

'Really?' Carol said, eyebrow raised. 'You popped into a lesbian bar just for a drink?' The disbelief was evident in Carol's