RomCom Cliché

Chapter Five

Every Saturday for the next five weeks, Rebecca took Freen out for dinner and bought her flowers. 

She let Freen pick where they went three of the times, finding herself at an Italian restaurant and burgers and fries and steak at an upscale bar, while she painstakingly vetted restaurants for the other two weeks, taking Ratch out for sushi ahead of their date night and Nam and Love to a French restaurant.

It was a nice routine, although neither of them spoke about what they were doing, and they took it in turns picking up the bill, Rebecca conceding in favour of Freen's pride. They always shared dessert after, splitting a chocolate soufflé or lemon meringue pie and Rebecca letting Freen have the last bite, knowing she had a sweet tooth. 

They always ended up back at Rebecca's afterwards, an invitation to Freen's not forthcoming again after Rebecca's initial rejection, and they'd spend Sunday morning together, eating  blueberry pancakes, which were getting increasingly better, and drinking coffee.

The entire time, Rebecca found herself completely charmed by the quiet and rather serious woman who evaded all of her attempts to charm her in return. 

Rebecca bought her flowers, sent her home with books she thought Freen might like and started stocking oat milk for her. Freen took it all in stride, somewhat awkward whenever Rebecca spent money on something for her, although she never said anything, but she always managed to dodge Rebecca's suggestions that they go to the movies, that they go and see a new art exhibit in town or bowling. 

While Freen seemed content to get dinner and then go home with Rebecca, it was purely physical, and Rebecca had the bizarre thought that if she didn't encourage conversation, Freen might have been perfectly happy for them to not speak a word.

It was maddening but it only made her want her more, the confusing and amusing way Freen rebuffed her attempts at getting to know her well, although Rebecca wasn't one for sharing herself. 

She might not like to talk about her family too much, but it has always been easy to get other people to talk about themselves; over the course of many dates, Rebecca found that nothing made someone like her so much as letting them talk about themselves. 

It was an easy way for her to get to know her dates while avoiding some of the things about herself she would rather not share, but Freen didn't seem to be falling for her usual tricks.

On Friday night, after a long day at court for a custody battle and a fraud case afterwards, on top of the hours in between spent reading over documents for another case while she sipped the coffee Mai had fetched from the down the street, Rebecca drove herself home to find the fridge fully stocked with alcohol and the pool steaming out back. 

She'd invited everyone over for drinks and her favourite catering company had filled the fridge with her usual selections for charcuterie boards.

Ratch arrived first, his Cuban shirt open and his sandals kicked off as he stepped inside, picking Rebecca up as he hugged her and then helped himself to the olives and brie artfully arranged on the boards. He started mixing cocktails for them both and Rebecca was taking a sip of her cosmo when the door opened and Milk's shout greeted her.

"Hey, come through," Rebecca called back, unnecessarily, given her friends' blatant disregard for anything blocking their way.

"Tequila," Milk said, setting the bottle down on the counter.

Rebecca groaned and gave her a wilting look. "Why do you always have to bring tequila? I always end up with the worst headaches."

"It's not a party without shots."