Read Broken Wings for Free Online

admission. How about you? What sort
of haunt do you frequent?”
    “Um. I don’t get out much. When I was younger, I couldn’t leave Holly alone.”
Rye didn’t mention that she had worked two jobs back then, too, and couldn’t
have afforded a busy social life even if she’d wanted one. “I don’t have much
time.”
    “I can’t begin to imagine how you raised your young sister on your own. I don’t
think I could have done it. Nor anyone else I know. I do admire you for it.”
    Rye shifted uncomfortably and sipped her strong drink. She wished she had a beer
instead. She wasn’t used to spirits.
    “Um,” Rye said. “So, Ms. Withe, Holly says –”
    “Flora. Please.”
    “Um. Right. Flora.” Rye cleared her throat. “Holly says you’re a famous artist.”
    “That’s very flattering, but not terribly accurate.”
    Rye began to relax as their conversation wandered away from her and over every
possible topic. This really was much, much better than the grunted conversations
she had with her drunken workmates at a pub. When it came to ordering fresh
drinks, Rye only sweated for the several minutes between placing the order and
when she handed her two ten piece notes to the waitress.
    “I’m having a few friends over for dinner on Second Night,” Flora said. “You’d
be more than welcome.”
    “Um. Thanks. But I can’t. Um. I have night class.”
    “Night class? What are you studying?”
    “I’m aiming to take the longest ever to get a basic business certificate. I’ve
been at it for six years and still have a couple to go.”
    “That’s astonishing. I do admire your perseverance.”
    “It’s not by choice. I can’t take more than two classes a year.”
    “So, you’re not only raising your sister and putting her through a good school,
but you’re also educating yourself?” Flora shook her head. “You’re amazing.”
    Embarrassed, Rye stared down at her remaining drink. She glugged it in one
swallow. When Flora smiled, Rye couldn’t help smiling back. She also couldn’t
help flicking a glance down at Flora’s bosom. Rye quickly looked away. She felt
too warm and light-headed.
    “Um. Where is the bathroom?” Rye asked.
    While Rye waited in the bathroom for a stall, one of the women at the basins
gave her a disturbingly frank appraisal.
    By the time Rye emerged, some couples had taken to the dance floor. She gave
them a wide berth as she made her way back to the booth. There was something odd
about the dancers, though Rye couldn’t immediately identify what it was. She
frowned around at the other patrons when she sat. In all the time they’d been
here, she had been too engrossed in Flora to notice anyone else. With a jolt,
she realised that all the couples dancing together were women. Rye’s gaze jerked
to the booths across the room and to the bar. Banshee, naiad, sylph, leprechaun,
and dryad. They were, one and all, female.
    “Is something wrong?” Flora asked.
    Rye stared at her. Slowly, oh so slowly, her brain drew out the shocking
conclusion of what being in a gay bar meant about Flora. Rye reached for her
fresh drink and swallowed heavily.
    “Rye?” Flora touched Rye’s wrist.
    “Um.” Rye felt horribly conscious of the light press of warm fingertips against
her bare skin. She turned her frown away to the dancers.
    “Did you want to dance?” Flora asked.
    “What? Oh. Um. I can’t imagine I’d be any good at it.”
    “It’s not a contest.”
    Rye followed her. She felt awkward, stiff, and self-conscious. When she
concentrated on Flora, though, she relaxed. Flora’s smile, her voice, the way
she swayed held Rye’s attention firmly fixed. Rye noted the shape of her lips,
the curve of her throat, and the roundness of her bosom. That long-dormant part
of Rye uncurled and grew stronger inside her.
    The music changed to a slow number. It seemed the most natural thing in the
world that Rye and Flora draw closer together. Flora rested her hands on Rye’s
sides. Rye didn’t