Her Name Was Lola
Excerpt:
From behind Lola, a pleasant, male alto
voice said, “Hi, I’m Vance.”She turned around and found her
five-foot-four self face-to-solid-chest with GQ. Taking a step backward and
sure she’d turned pale, she looked up at him. The peeling name badge on his
lapel said, M. Vance, but his last name was hidden by a shadow. “Oh, hi. I’m
Lola.”Vance held a shot glass in each hand.
He was smiling, lips pulled back a little too much, as if he was unsure of
himself. “Your friend told me I was being very obvious about staring at you and
to go introduce myself. She said to give you this.” He handed her a whiskey.His eyes were the color of freshly mown
grass with silver flecks of dew at sunrise. When they locked on hers, her hands
began to sweat, making the glass slip through her palm when she took it from
him.She grabbed it with the other hand at
the last second. “Oh. Okay.”He clinked his glass against hers,
downed the shot, then smiled at her again. His upper lip had a minutely askew
cherub’s bow.Knocking hers back as well, Lola did
her best not to react to the five-alarm fire scorching through her esophagus.
She was reasonably sure smoke was about to billow from her nose and ears. Then
that warm, melty feeling crept in.Okay, Naomi. Here goes. “To be honest,
I was watching you too.”“Were you now?” He arched his eyebrows.
Silently thanking Naomi, Lola asked,
“So, are you a visiting speaker?”“I’m attending. I teach at Jewett
College. You?”“I’m at Jewett also. Library science
department.” Hopefully he wouldn’t ask what she did there.She’d tell him the rest later…if they
hit it off.His fingers lingered over hers as he
took the drink glass from her hand. “Another?”One was her usual limit, and balancing
on heels after two was inadvisable. “Yes, please.” She let him guide her
through the crowd surrounding the bar.He offered her an empty barstool and
stood next to it as he waved at the bartender. “How long have you been at the
college? I don’t recognize you.” He lowered his eyes and raised them to her
again, offering an uncertain smile as he smoothed his hand over his thigh.Looking down, she noticed her
topped-off glass. “I’m going into my fourth year.” Lola swirled her fresh drink
and watched the amber liquid make slow, wavy circles. She saw a chip in her
pale pink nail polish and fought the urge to tuck it into her palm. “What about
you? Where do you work?”“In the English Department.”
GQ—or probably Dr. GQ—Vance—shivered a
little when he slid his hand toward hers until their fingertips were
millimeters apart. A tiny static spark jumped between them and they both
chuckled.Lola drank half of the shot. “What do
you teach?”“Comparative and European literature.
My specialty is fairy tales.”“I’ve been obsessed with fairy
tales—the real ones, not the kids’ ones—for as long as I can remember.”Vance leaned against the bar. “Same.”
A new song began, and they listened as
he played with his tie for a few moments. “After watching you in action, I’m
not sure I can keep up, but feel like a dance?”Lola blinked then nodded. The rest of
the room bobbed slightly with her head. She slid off the stool, and he rested
his hand on the small of her back as they wound through the crowd. Heat
radiated through the thin fabric of her dress.He took her hand in his. They were
about five paces from the dance floor when a man caught her shoulder, causing
her and Vance to stumble backward.“You’re not gonna pass by without a
hello, are you?” The tall, thin man had brown roots and blond tips. His hand was
sweaty and his words slurred.Vance looked at her. “Do you know him?”
Sobering, she shook her head, grateful that
the world didn’t move with it.The man sidled closer and squeezed her
shoulder more tightly.Letting go of her hand, Vance took a
step toward him.Lola tugged her shoulder away and
pulled a hair stick from her updo. Stepping closer, she waved the tapered end
at the stranger.He gasped and stepped backward, letting
go of her shoulder.“Leave me alone.” She kept her voice as
quiet and stern as she could.The man muttered, “Slut,” as he
retreated.Lola replaced the stick through what
was left of her updo.Vance licked along his teeth. “You’re already
full of surprises.”The night’s cool dampness draped around
the crowded dance floor, covering them like an airy shawl as they found their
way to an open space.“Remind me never, ever to upset you.”
He spread his fingers over her mid-back and held her hand to his chest. His
heart beat against her palm as he held it there, his hand cool and dry.They looked at each other and smiled.
He said “ever.” As in future tense. As in “long term.” I should
probably let him know I’m a student now. That could wait a few minutes more.She inhaled a mix of tangerines,
leather, and something else—ginger, maybe—that she could almost taste as his
scent hovered between them. She moved closer, and their hips touched.There was an unmistakable twitch
against her. She was sure it was a trick of the lights that made him appear to
blush.This might happen.
He took a half-step back, face pink
against the white lights that outlined him. She imagined using her finger
as a silver gel pen around his jaw, under his cheekbones, and across his
forehead, illuminating his face. He brought his hand farther down her back.She raised her voice over the music.
“So, what’s your favorite fairy tale?”He lowered his head closer to hers.
Their mouths were centimeters from each other. “What?”She asked again.
He said something.
She tilted her head up. “Didn’t catch
that.”Chuckling, he leaned in until his mouth
was close to her ear. Cupping it, he repeated,“It’s hard to talk here. Do you want to
go somewhere quieter?” The whiskey on his breath had mellowed to spiced
caramel, and his voice melted through her.The imaginary talking mice scampering
under her skin morphed into butterflies. “Okay.”Holding her hand, Vance led her into
the lobby. Her heart thumped like a scared rabbit’s as he threaded his fingers
between hers. She glanced toward the quieter, emptier bar, but he kept going
straight toward the elevator bank.“Grimm, Andersen, or Perrault?” Vance
winked.Lola bit her lip and released it. “Why do
you ask?”Vance seemed to stare at her mouth.
Narrowing his eyes, he stopped and gave her a closed-mouthed smile. “Good to
know whether you’re into physical pain, mental torture, or happy endings.”“What?” Lola froze as her jaw dropped.
Vance tilted his head back and laughed.
“I’m kidding.” He headed toward the elevators again, but Lola couldn’t move. He
stumbled back. “I’m harmless. I promise.”She glanced around the vast lobby, checking
for security officers.“I didn’t mean to upset or scare you.”
Leaning in, he lifted the back of her hand to his lips, then smiled that same
smile that had dissolved her into a puddle the first time she’d laid eyes on
him.“All right.”
He led her into an empty elevator.
This is happening.
Inside, he let go of her hand and took
a step back. “Is it okay to go up to my room? I should’ve asked first.” He gave
that earlier, uncertain smile, revealing a tiny dimple in his right cheek and
lighter green bands surrounding his irises.
“That sounds perfect, Vance.” Lola’s mouth and
throat went dry as he hit the button for the eleventh floor. For the first time
in her life, she was going to say, “Yes.”
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