A Matter of Trust: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

In high school, her AP Fine Literature teacher had been the hottest adult on the entire campus. Well, if you were a lesbian or a straight guy. Naturally, all the straight girls went gaga over the perfectly-named Mr. Wright and his thick New York City accent. But the lesbian chicks at Barrington Woods? The planets revolved around Miss Banks. Drop-dead gorgeous with lustrous brown hair, killer legs and curves which often made Chloë forget how to breathe. It had been a miracle Chloë had passed that class.

And now, six years after graduation, Chloë thought Miss Banks was just as gorgeous as ever. She remembered clearly her teacher telling the class during a discussion about Jane Austen that she was thirty-years-old, ten years older than Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice. So that would make Miss Banks thirty-six or so now. Yet, it was as if time had stood still for her.

Chloë and her small cadre of lesbian friends in high school had often giggled and whispered about how great it would be if Miss Banks was gay, but they had always assumed she was straight. But here Miss Banks was, years after graduation, at a Lesbeans event! And she came without a date!

Hurrying back out to the front of La Vida Mocha, Chloë found Miss Banks waiting for her by the door. Chloë felt her breath quickening.

That dress! Holy fuck, that dress!

“Ready?” Chloë asked when she reached her, hoping against hope that Miss Banks hadn’t changed her mind.

“I am! I’m so looking forward to this!”

“Is the Tanglewood Wine Bar good for you?” Chloë asked.

And th

en back to my place?

Chloë realized that if she got that lucky, she’d have to call Sienna to tell her not to come over tonight, but she knew Sienna would be cool with that.

“Perfect!” Miss Banks replied. “And good choice!”

With a final wave to Vanessa, Chloë left the coffeeshop after holding the door open for her companion. Now that she was no longer on duty and outside, Chloë finally took off her face mask. When she looked over at Miss Banks, her heart went boom! The way Miss Banks was looking at her! The older woman’s pink lips were slightly apart and her eyes had widened as they took in Chloë’s features. Chloë just stood there and let herself be scrutinized.

Finally, Miss Banks seemed to realize that she had been rudely staring and shook her head.

“Chloë! Wow! I meant what I said earlier, you have become a gorgeous woman! And now without the mask on…wow!”

Chloë’s smile grew bigger.

“Thanks, Miss Banks,” she said.

Miss Banks laughed.

“Oh my God! Call me Morgan, please! I’m not your teacher anymore. We’re equals.”

Chloë had to take a discreet breath before saying, “Okay.” Another breath. “Morgan.” She liked the way the name sounded coming from her lips.

Tanglewood Wine Bar was just a short walk away, on State Street. Being Carlsbad, in Southern California, the temperature was cool but not cold; the air even felt invigorating on Chloë’s bare legs during the brief stroll.

The wine bar was not at all crowded, which was the reason Chloë had chosen it. Even on a Friday night, Tanglewood never got super busy and they were able to find a quiet table inside near the window.

“What do you like, wine-wise?” Morgan asked Chloë, after scanning the QR code on the table and pulling up the bar’s menu on her phone. Morgan held the phone so that Chloë could also read the screen which meant they had to squeeze closer together.

Chloë worried she would pass out.

Morgan’s breath gently brushed against Chloë’s arm, making the hairs stand on end, and her perfume took up residence in her nostrils causing Chloë to almost groan.

“Hm, I don’t really know,” Chloë admitted, her mouth dry. “I just usually drink whatever wine someone has available.” This was true. When it came to alcohol, Chloë was typically a mixed drinks girl; and when the occasion called for it, she loved being the mixologist. Her potent concoctions were well-known among her friends.

“How about I order for us, then?” Morgan asked, sitting up straight again and pulling herself away from Chloë who really wanted to groan now.

“Yes, please.”

In mere moments a masked waitress was at their table.

“A bottle of the 2017 Sonoma Loeb chardonnay, please,” Morgan told the waitress.