Read Olive Oil and White Bread for Free Online Page B

the old take-a-shower-at-ten thing in order to stay out dancing and drinking until two in the morning. No, these days, by two in the morning, she wanted to be long asleep.
    I’m getting old. Already .
    The thought made her smile as she took a sip of her beer. She never liked those hours. She was a morning person. She could remember pulling only two all-nighters in college, and those were only because her friends were studying for the same test and they’d promised to stick together. Jillian had been barely able to function, let alone retain the information they were poring over.
    She’d arrived at the bar a little early, mostly because she wanted tobe able to snag a couple barstools before the crowd took over. Also because she was nervous and ready too early and couldn’t stand the thought of wandering around her house, killing time until seven. Plus, she’d had more than enough ribbing from her two roommates, enough to make her wish she’d never mentioned the gorgeous brunette from last summer or that Angie and the gorgeous brunette were one and the same. She would never live that down, especially if things with Angie went anywhere.
    Just thinking about that game, that ridiculous slide she never should have attempted, made her grin. She had really wanted to impress that stunning woman. She was sure she’d blown it, and she’d given herself half a dozen bruises in the process. And now, months and months later, that same stunning woman had asked her out. What were the chances? She’d assumed she’d never see Angie again after that fiasco at the softball game, sure that she’d solidified herself as a complete and utter idiot in Angie’s mind.
    But that smile.
    She couldn’t get it out of her head.
    That sexy, mischievous smile—Jillian had thought she’d never see it again. And then she’d come here last week, received a complimentary drink from “the brunette at the bar”—and there she was. Not smiling, unfortunately. Looking almost ill, in fact, but that didn’t matter to Jillian. It was all she could do to keep from running up to her and spilling out how she never thought she’d see her again, asking her out right there on the spot. But she hadn’t been alone, and thank god, Jillian had kept her cool, pretending to waver over leaving her number, though it wasn’t even an issue. She was leaving it, whether her friends thought she should or not.
    No call had come.
    Jillian had been ridiculous about the phone for the next three days. Nobody was allowed to stay on it longer than a few minutes at a time, because what if the gorgeous brunette called and she couldn’t get through? And then she gave up and didn’t try again? What would Jillian do then?
    She was lucky her roommates hadn’t killed her in her sleep.
    A full week passed, and Jillian had just about given up on everhearing from the brunette. She was depressed and saddened, but trying hard to just suck it up.
    Then the call had come.
    And now, here she sat, alone, nursing a beer, hoping she didn’t look too pathetic. She gave monosyllabic answers to the butch who approached her to strike up a conversation until the poor woman received the “Not Interested” message loud and clear and wandered back down the bar to lick her wounds. Jillian slid her empty bottle across the bar and raised her hand to the bartender when a voice spoke up behind her.
    â€œI’ll have a white wine, please.”
    Jillian turned, her gaze meeting soft brown eyes.
    â€œHi,” Angie said, taking in the empty bottle. “Am I late?”
    Jillian shook her head. “I’m early. Hi.” She put her order in with the bartender, then turned to give Angie a quick once-over, wanting to look at her without seeming like she was leering. Angie wore black jeans that hugged her full figure like a lover, a plain gray T-shirt, and a black leather jacket, an outfit that was simple