Eliza focused and saw Fiona, she dropped her hands from Oscar’s chest and faced the bar.

“I just saw Fiona, and I am not sure if she saw me.”

“And you are scared to be caught with me?” Oscar questioned looking at the bar, and not at her.

She stared at his hands, thickly veined and soft, grabbed one.

“I am not afraid of anything,” she said getting up, leading him so he followed her over to Fiona’s table.

Fiona gave her a deadpan expression, but her expression and eyes shifted on Oscar.

“I guess all of the Americans are here, I met my friend Oscar here as well.” Eliza added lightly, but cautiously. “Is it okay if we sit with you?”

With a shrug that indicated it was okay, Eliza and Oscar sat down.

“Oscar, this is my sister-in-law Fiona.”

“Not yet,” Fiona stated, extending her hand to Oscar.

“Practically,” Eliza answered a little breathless, and deflated between the legs. She knew that she was not going to be able to sleep with Oscar that night. She had been more than ready, almost at the bar even, but now there was no chance. A little more than envious of Fiona’s handshake with him, she closed her eyes thinking about the texture of his skin.

She loved being able to introduce him, letting him know he meant something to her and she figured that if she did not hide him, it would not look conspicuous to Fiona.

Oscar ordered drinks, and Eliza was thankful for Fiona’s impeccable manners. Eliza knew she would not create a scene in front of a stranger, so she exploited it.

“Fiona is a gifted photographer. She just had a show in New York, and now she is going to have a show in Shanghai.”

“Fiona Morgan? I just saw your show in New York, and I saw a write-up about the Shanghai show. I recognized your Francesca Woodman like photo in the collage,” Oscar said.

“You must have liked it if you could tell which one it was in the group!” Fiona smiled.

Eliza breathed an inner sigh of relief. Fiona was very proud of her work, and was going to love talking to Oscar about herself as an artist. She was surprised at Oscar’s knowledge of art, even more so that he dabbled in photography.

“You have to come to the opening in a few days!” Fiona declared with a smile that lilted as she looked at Eliza. “Eliza must bring you.”

“I don’t have any of Oscar’s information,” Eliza lied, between her legs making her shift with discomfort because she knew when she was going to be able to see him again. In a gallery there would be a way for her to touch his skin, to have his hands she studied on her again.

“I can give it to you!” he smiled.

She knew what he meant above her waist, but below her waist felt like she wanted to wipe at the hot moisture between her legs.

“Of course,” she said.

Eliza insisted they go Dutch when the bill came, but Oscar ignored her entirely. He stood up to leave, and she feared she would come if he hugged her.

He hugged Fiona first, and then her. She just hid her gasp in a quick kiss on his cheek because she did indeed almost come. She hoped Fiona would think it was the effect of the alcohol.

When he left she did not look after him, his scent and touch clung to her like tapestry even after he was gone.

Fiona had been drinking a lot, more than usual.

“Eliza, I know it was wrong what I said but I was in bed with you, and I lost control for a moment. I am sorry, I need time to forgive myself for losing control. You know I never do,” she slurred softly.

Eliza sat next to her, and Fiona put her head on her shoulder.

“I do love you Fi, just not the way…”

Fiona kissed the nape of her neck, and maybe it was how she was feeling already but it felt excessively nice. She closed her eyes.

“Not the way you love Oscar, I see.”

Eliza became rigid, the mention of his name and her crossed legs squeezed tight made her come, but she felt no release.

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photo by f dot leonora