Is She, Isn't She?
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Author's note: This story has a plot and a decent amount of build-up, so if you're looking for a QF, you've come to the wrong place. Otherwise, enjoy!
Obviously, don't reprint without the author's permission, and any similarities between the characters and people/events of real life are, of course, purely coincidental.
Harmony.
***
Shrill piping sounds floated from Ashley's handbag. She fumbled within and emerged with her mobile phone.
"Hello?" she asked into it.
"Hey," a deeper voice grunted in return.
"Hi Chantelle," Ashley responded, recognising her friend immediately. "What's happening?"
"Me, Claire, Tansy and Meredith are going to Bolton's for drinks tonight, I'm ringing to invite you," Chantelle sniffed into the phone. "Bella says they've got some new, rocking little barmaid who's a real piece and we all want to go check her out."
"Sure, I'll come, count me in," Ashley told her right away. Practically all her friends were included on Chantelle's list and it had been a long week at work. A few drinks at their favourite bar certainly sounded like a plan to her.
"None of us want to drive so we're all pooling for a cab -- technically, it's Meredith's turn to be desi, but she's opting out, wants to have a few, says she's still upset about that Julia chick, and that she'll do it next time. So we'll swing by your place in the cab around seven?"
"Fine! Should be a good night!"
Chantelle grunted again. She wasn't famous for her fantastic phone manner. "See ya then."
Ashley put the phone back into her bag, replaced it under her desk, and stretched her long body backwards in her chair. She wasn't supposed to take personal calls during work but it was nearly home time, and there was no one waiting to be served. She worked at the bank, and it had been an annoying day full of paper-pushing boredom. Usually she enjoyed her job, but the entire week had seemed to comprise of her least favourite aspects of it. It would be pleasant to take a load off that night with her friends. They hadn't been to Bolton's for a couple of weeks, which was unusual for them.
Work finished, and Ashley picked up a sandwich from the shop next-door for dinner. It was a short drive home. A coffee and a shower later, and she found herself standing in front of the mirror, humming about what to wear, her smooth, tanned skin glowing from the hot water from which she'd just emerged.
It had been a while since she'd worn a dress. She slid on a pink one, complimenting it with soft, girlie sandals. She tied her long blonde hair up into a ponytail, and painted pink lip-gloss on her lips to match. She'd just finished applying eye-shadow to her green eyes when the taxi honked downstairs. Ashley jogged down to meet it.
"Hey!" four voices sang at her from the maxi-cab.
"Hi girls!" Ashley got in and did up her seatbelt.
"We were just discussing the new bar girl!" Tansy grinned at Ashley, adjusting her black-framed glasses on her nose, in thick, skilfully applied makeup. "Word is, she's hot enough to set fire to something!" she giggled.
"Word is she's straight," countered Meredith, voice officious as the cab pulled away from Ashley's place.
"Of course she's not straight!" scoffed Chantelle, her favourite green baseball cap planted firmly on shoulder-length hair. "Why would she get a job in a gay bar if she was straight?"
