Bridget breathed a contented sigh as the white wine tricked down her throat, the cool, crisp flavour a much welcomed stress reliever. It had been one hell of a week at work - a suicide, a grieving prison wife and a couple of challenging new admissions, as well as the usual turmoil of working in a maximum security facility. Bridget adored her job at Wentworth; as cliché as it seemed, she really did stand for making a difference to the women and tried her very best to help. But her life was slowly becoming consumed by work, the ever increasing demands and challenges slowly eating into her personal time. She couldn't remember the last time she even went on a date, let alone slept with someone, and she hadn't seen her friends in a little over a month. She needed a distraction from work, whatever it may be.
Franky sat at a small table in the corner of the busy bar, her girlfriend, Kim, telling her about the up-coming trip she was taking to Korea in the next few weeks for her Grandmother's surprise 80th birthday. She was only half listening, desperate to go home for a shower, a fuck and a good night's sleep. This last week at work was one of the busiest she had ever encountered, and while her job as a para-legal for a Legal Aid company was interesting, she could not wait until she was a fully qualified lawyer. Franky knocked back the remainder of her vodka and cranberry, welcoming the slight burn from the too-strong drink, and jumped off her stool to get another drink for herself and Kim.
"Same again, Kimmy?" She asked.
"Yeah babe," Kim replied.
Franky had met Kim almost 10 months earlier at a nightclub in the city centre. Franky was out with work colleagues celebrating a birthday, and Kim was with her friends, trying to mend her broken heart; her boyfriend had walked out on her the previous evening. Kim had never been with a girl before Franky, and once a drunk Franky had seduced a much drunker Kim and taken her into the toilet to fuck her senseless, she had swayed to the other side and had been with Franky since. Franky liked Kim, a lot, but couldn't say she was in love with her, even after 10 months of dating. She knew that Kim would eventually go back to men, all the 'straight' girls Franky had seduced in the past always did. But Franky was looking to settle down now, 32 years of age and she was not getting any younger, as she kept mentally reminding herself.
She elbowed her way to the bar, the floor becoming more and more packed as it got later on that warm Friday evening.
"Double vodka and cranberry, and a large rose, please mate." Franky muscled her way to the front and ordered her drinks. She dropped her purse on the floor, but as she bent down to pick it up, her elbow knocked the glass of a stranger and sent it smashing to the crowd. A couple of people clapped sarcastically and shouted "Wahey!", as per custom.
"Fuck!" Franky cursed. Her white Converse were now wet and slightly discoloured; luckily it wasn't red wine. She looked up to see whose drink she had spilt and was met with intense ice-blue eyes. They locked with hers momentarily before she pulled away from the gaze.
"I'm so sorry," she began. "What were you drinking? Let me get you another."
Bridget was annoyed, but those green eyes had her captivated. She scanned the brunette quickly, her eyes drawn to the array of colourful tattoos down both arms. She surely was a very attractive woman, Bridget thought.
"No, honestly, I'm fine," Bridget said. "In fact, you've probably done me a favour, I'm getting out of here soon."
Franky raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"
Bridget nodded. "I'm sure. Thank you, though."
"No problem." Franky winked, then grabbed the drinks and made her way back to the table where Kim was waiting.
"Who was that?" Kim asked, half curious, half jealous. Franky's larger than life personality, plus her intriguing looks made her desirable to both women and men, and Kim often became green-eyed, a trait which Franky could not stand. Jealousy was not an attractive look as far as she was concerned.
"I accidentally knocked her drink over at the bar, I offered her another but she was too polite to take it. I should have just replaced it anyway though."
Franky found herself twice in the next 10 minutes turning round to see if the blonde woman was still there, her interest piqued. She looked classy and educated, and Franky was trying to work out whether she was a lesbian or not. Still, it wouldn't have been the first time she thought about turning straight women. She watched the woman make her way outside, light a cigarette and sit down on one of the chairs. She shouldn't have thought about getting up and following her out there, but she did.
"Kim, I feel bad, I'm gonna go and buy that woman a drink and apologise," Franky lied. She wanted to find out more about the beautiful woman. "I'll be 2 minutes, ok?"
Kim huffed like a child but Franky barely noticed. She made a bee-line to the bar, and bought the most expensive glass of white wine. She was no wine connoisseur, preferring vodka or a Corona, but the blonde woman looked like she had expensive taste. She picked up another vodka for herself, and wove through the people to make it to the outside area. She saw Bridget and walked over.
"Smoking kills," she joked, putting the glass down in front of her.
"Believe it or not, this is my first cigarette in 3 years."
"Tough week, huh? I bought you this to replace the one that ended up all over my shoes!" She wiggled her right foot at Bridget who smiled.
"Thank you," Bridget said, taking the glass and enjoying a large gulp of the sweet wine.
"I'm Franky," the brunette, sitting opposite her without an invitation. "Sorry for wasting a whole glass of good wine!"
"Bridget," she replied. She mentally undressed Franky with her eyes and squeezed her thighs together. Get a grip woman, she told herself. It really had been a long time since she last had any physical contact with another woman.
"So, what's a nice girl like you doing in a bar all alone on a Friday?" Franky poked the tip of her tongue out from the corner of her mouth. She almost forgot that Kim, her girlfriend was sitting waiting for her, until she walked out and joined them.
"Who's this, babe," she asked, emphasising the word 'babe' for Bridget to hear.
"This is Bridget, I spilt her drink at the bar remember? Just thought it would be good of me to get her one to say sorry."
Bridget noticed the animosity building. She guessed that the mysterious brunette was the one who wore the trousers, but it left her partner jealous; she decided to make a move - getting caught up in a potential couple's argument was not something she wanted to do. Still, she felt intrigued by the tattooed woman and part of her wished she could stay and talk to her. Bridget gulped back the rest of her wine, thanked Franky for the drink and made a swift exit. She turned back once she was out of sight and sighed. Why was she always attracted to the wrong woman?