Page 66 of Push & Pull
“A cookie?”
Simone’s hands remained on her hips until Petra came up for air and Daria landed on the other side of the loveseat. Her hand rested against her bare navel.She looks like she’s already been through a few rounds of whatever she’s wanting next.
“Cream-filled, I’m sure,” Petra said, breathless.
Simone hoped that her sour countenance conveyed what she thought of that expression.
“Ooh, I like a cream-filled cookie.” Daria’s foot kicked up from Petra’s lap and almost smacked her in the face. “But maybe I mean like… a sandwich!Oui,Simone, come make us a sandwich.”
“She’s the filling this time,” Petra said.
“I’d rather pass.” It was always bad enough when someone from Simone’s more recent past made a grand entrance in the least expected place. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you and your sister were coming to New York.”
Although Daria recollected herself, she still had a come-hither grin on her face that would have worked on Simone with a substance or two in her body.Or enough drinks to knock me out for real.She didn’t have anything against Daria’s appearance, or even how energetic she could be while having a good time, but Simone was tired of playing the tireless top. That week had been all about indulging in her true self, and Daria wouldnotdeliver that experience tonight.Like I told Petra, she’s the ultimate pillow princess who puts me to shame.Daria would never get another woman on the shower floor and finger her until she almost drowned.
“Yvonne is consulting with a fashion designer. I came along. You know how it is.”
“You come along and hang out in the club?”
“Oui, oui!You know I like to make new friends! Have you met my girlhood friend Marguerite?” Daria nodded to the half-dressed woman on the stripper pole. “She’s here too! Oh, but she doesn’t speak English well. Hm, hm, maybe that makes her more fun for you, Simone?”
“For me?”
“If you don’t want to be in my sandwich…” Daria glommed onto Petra as if they were a sure thing that night. “Then I will make a cookie with Petra. Ooh,mon chéri!” Big red lips landed on Petra’s cheek. Although Petra made a valiant attempt to put her hands up, she was helpless as another kiss landed right on her mouth. “We make a peanut butter cookie! I want to be the butter, so you spread me on this sofa!”
Simone turned around in a huff. Petra’s polite but firm,“Maybe some other time,”wasn’t enough to placate the jealousy now tickling the tips of Simone’s fingers.She’s not your girlfriend.That’s what she thought about Petra, who genially turned down Petra yet again.No point in getting jealous of someone like her.Petra’s outgoing nature didn’t have to be defined as extroverted, but there was something about her that drew people right in. It had worked on Simone, and it clearly worked on Daria, who always had boundary issues.
Yet here I am, jealous. Like an idiot.
Could she help it, though? She had become accustomed to drawing Petra’s undivided attention and had looked forward to more of it that night. Who knew how busy Petra might be the following night? Then when they went to New England to drop Simone off…
Even if she stayed a couple days, Petra was due to leave at some point. The affair would be over. The more Simone fell into the promises of candid conversations and fervent lovemaking that made her forget her woes, the more she realized two things: that it was futile, and that it reminded her of other addictions.
“You two should have some fun,” Simone said when she finally turned back around. “I’ve taken up enough of your attention these past few days.” That was directed at Petra, whose expression did not change as she offered Simone a thoughtful look. “A taste of other women might do us both some good.”
“Oooh, don’t be that way!” Daria cooed after Simone as she crossed into a different room. “Come back, Simone! I miss you!”
Get over yourself.Simone passed through a darkened hallway, bypassing private rooms that people could use at will. Although she couldn’t hear who was in any room above the hum of the music that played through the club, she imagined Petra and Daria going into one of them.Daria will teach Petra some naughty French. Petra will teach Daria naughty English.Everyone would go home more culturally and linguistically enlightened. Who was Simone to stand in the way of that?
She discovered an empty alcove between the hallway and a darkened, greenish room currently hosting a group of men in suits, all of them speaking a Slavic language Simone could not place. She was merely content to sit there and collect her thoughts, assuming nobody bothered her. The only person she saw for the next few minutes was a waitress carrying a tray of empty glasses out of the green room. She did not glance at Simone or ask if she needed anything.
I need a new brain.Maybe a new life to go with it.
“What was that about?”
Simone peeled the back of her head off the wall and opened her eyes to find Petra standing only a few inches away. It felt like a joke.
“Where’s your newamie?” Simone asked, her accent atrocious.
“The girl who hardly takes no for an answer? Told her to find us something else to drink and ran as soon as she was gone. God. She’s like a tropical storm blowing across the Atlantic.”
Simone couldn’t find the humor in that. “You two look cute together. Maybe you should do something about that.”
Petra took a step closer. “I didn’t come here with her. Nor did I come alone. I came here with you, didn’t I?”
“We attended together. You’re here as my plus one.”
When Petra leaned her shoulder against the same wall as Simone, it wasn’t with obvious intent to touch her. Yet that’s what happened when their arms grazed together and Simone had to push down the nauseating urge to cast aside her boundaries.
