THE DARE (G!P Freenbecky)

Chapter 38

"Money can make some people a little crazy," Freen said.

"Heng and I found that out the hard way when our company first started making big money."

"Was it hard for you?"

"For a time. I went around with my guard up for a couple of years until I finally realized that there were people out there who would like me for who I was and not for what I could do for them."

"I know exactly what you mean." Becky hesitated. "I didn't know you had money when I met you. I mean, your home is beautiful, and I knew you had to be somewhat successful, but not to the extent that you are."

"I know you didn't." Freen grinned, then said, "And I sure didn't think that Mon had any money."

The minute the words were out of her mouth and she saw the quick change of expression in her brown eyes, she regretted what she'd said.

"Becky, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"It's stupid."

"It's not stupid if I hurt you."

Becky looked down at her plate for a moment, the food clearly forgotten.

"Tell me," Freen said, keeping her voice soft. Persuasive.

"It's just.....sometimes I think that the woman you really like is......is Mon. I know it's insane, to be jealous of myself, but sometimes I wish.....I wish I could be a lot more like her."

This is dangerous ground. Freen thought quickly.

"You are like her. You'd have to be. No, I'm saying this badly. Hold on. What I mean is, there's a part of you that's exactly Mon, because you would've come off totally fooled; I didn't think you were anything other than what you pretended to be that night." Freen hesitated. "Does that make sense?"

"Kind of." Becky picked up her fork, played with her pasta. "I've thought about that night a lot. It was a strange way to meet, neither of us really knowing the other."

"But it worked," Freen said.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, we got past that first meeting, and here we are having dinner together. And Becky, you have no reason to be worried. I really like you. I have from the moment I met you."

Becky looked at her, her eyes still worried.

"I still can't get over how loyal you are to Lookkaew, how far you were willing to go to ensure her happiness."

"Freen," Becky replied, "sleeping with you had nothing to do with Lookkaew."

"I know that. I just meant that the way you got into my house and ended up dancing on my coffee table—all that came about because of loyalty to a friend. Becky, that's rare in this world, and a quality to be treasured."

Their conversation was interrupted when dessert arrived, and Freen deliberately steered the rest of their conversation toward more humorous subjects. But as she walked Becky to her door that night, to that ornate iron gate that let her into her grandfather's property, Freen wondered how she could possibly think that her real self held any less appeal to her than Mon had.
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New Year's Eve approached, and after their dinner date, Freen held back a little. Freen decided on a very light approach as far as Becky was concerned. Freen called her but didn't push her. Freen didn't tell her about the house; she wanted to do that in person.

In the meantime, Freen tried to make her laugh. Shared amusing moments of her day, especially the animal's antics. In return, Freen began to get a feel for her life: much more quiet and sheltered than hers, but she discovered a woman full of compassion, always ready to help solve any problem she came across. And totally committed to her dance troupe.

Every so often, for confidence, Freen would take the small velvet box out of her pocket and study the engagement ring; a flawless, two-carat diamond set in a platinum band.

Freen would propose when the time was right. And hope to God that she'd accept it.
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Becky rehearsed for her troupe's January dance recital until she was exhausted, and even then, her thoughts still continued to bother her. She couldn't sleep. She looked forward to Freen's calls and dreaded them at the same time. Why couldn't she just be a normal woman and enjoy the fact that a really terrific woman wanted to have a committed relationship with her? Why did she have to be so totally terrified?

Though she hadn't done a lot of therapy, she knew where her fears came from. Sometimes, when you'd been through so much at such a young age, it was as if your heart and your body just shut down and said, I can't take it any more. And she knew she must have made that decision, however unconsciously, at th age of six. She couldn't even remember her mother's funeral, though almost every member of her extended family had told her about it in great detail.

When she was a very little girl, she'd sat alone in the mansion stairs or retreated back into the garden and wondered why her father had never wanted to see her or be with her. And for a long time, she'd thought there was something very wrong with her.

She loved her grandfather deeply, but even he and her grandmother, with all their love, care, and concern, hadn't been able to put her fears to rest. She'd been told she'd had horrible nightmares for six months after her mother died. She'd even regressed and wet her bed a couple of times, but her grandparents had never made her feel ashamed.

Now, so many years later, she thought she'd been able to put those fears to rest: her fears of not being good enough, of being abandoned and left behind by someone she'd loved so very much. It had happened so long ago, almost twenty years ago, so why was the past rushing up to meet her and making her so terribly afraid of Freen and what she represented? Becky hadn't even suspected how powerful those fears were until Freen Chankimha had arrived on the scene.

But something must have seemed right about her, she thought as she lay out in a hammock in a far corner of the garden. It was one of her favorite places to think, and she'd come here to do just that.

You wouldn't have just jumped into bed with anyone.

Something had been right about Freen. Right for her.

Even meeting her the way she had, at the party, she'd instinctively known that Freen was a strong woman. And she'd once read an article, probably in Cosmo, that said that women made up their minds if they were going to sleep with Freen within minutes of meeting her

Maybe what had seemed like such a crazy, snap judgment, such an insane decision, hadn't been so crazy after all. Maybe it had been her body's wise way of forcing her out of an emotional deep freeze.

Becky had conflicted feelings about Lookkaew's wedding from the moment her best friend had called her and told her that Anda had proposed. Your best friend couldn't get married without you wondering whether you wanted to get married, too. That wedding had put a real spotlight on all her fears, on her most private feelings about real intimacy with a woman and losing control.

She'd lost control with Freen that first night. She'd put herself in her hands, literally, and Freen had given her pleasure such as she'd never experienced before in her life.

Becky had trusted her, and Freen had repaid that trust. Freen hadn't talked with her buddies and made something that had been so important to her into something cheap and laughable.

Even when Freen had thought she was a exotic dancer and used to expose her body to groups of men and women, she'd treated her with kindness and respect.

Becky was beginning to see that Freen was one woman in a million.

Angrily, she brushed the quick tears out of her eyes. She always seemed to be on the verge of crying these days, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to understand why.

"Becky?"

She heard her grandfather's voice and scrubbed her cheeks free of the few tears that had fallen. Hoping her eyes didn't look too red or her voice didn't sound choked up like she'd been crying, she called out, "Over here!"

"I thought I might find you here," her grandfather said, walking towards her, a thick envelope in his hands. "The mail just arrived, and I thought you might want to take a look at this."

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A/N: My external exams are over and my high school as well. So now i would be updating sooner than before. See yaaa <3