Silent Storm Lesbian Story

04: Reclaimed

04: Reclaimed

Mirabelle sat quietly in the corner of one of the dozens of small bars in the Frenchman Street vicinity. Brass and Bottle was one of her favorite places to visit. The bar wasn't too big, and it was still easy for her to melt back into a corner at the end of the bar. Francois, the thoughtful bartender, was a second cousin on her mother's side.

Late September brought a break from the oppressive humidity and the evening temperatures in New Orleans dipped mercifully into the low 70s. Belle could feel the relief in the city's demeanor. She sat back in Brass and Bottle dressed in fitted cargo-style pants, flats, and a white sheer top over a white camisole. The stark bright shirt was a beautiful contrast to her naturally tanned looking skin. Belle's light eyes shimmered and looked mesmerizingly fluid. Her soft hair hung to her shoulders naturally loose curls and medium blonde highlights.

Francois eyed up Belle as he delivered her Sazerac. He loved to watch her "work" his bar. He tried several times over the years to convince her to sit a little closer to the front window. He was certain she would help draw the foot traffic in, but unable to convince her, he gave up. "Belle, Cher, you look dangerous tonight."

Mirabelle grinned into her glass, "Oui! That's what I'm hoping for Francois. And if you see Mama ... I was never here!"

Francois rolled with laughter,"Oh Belle! I'm not getting in the middle of 'dat. Your Mama can get blood from a stone!"

"Francois!"

"Hey, I won't offer anything up, but if she asks. You're on your own Cher!"

Mirabelle grimaced and returned her gaze to the bar watching drinkers move in and out on the moderately busy Thursday night. Several men's eyes lingered on Belle, it was hard for anyone not to look in her direction. Francois was a nice first line of defense when men tried to buy her drinks. Mirabelle laughed lightly as he deflected their attention.

"Oh, sorry une amie (my friend). She's waiting for someone special."

Sometimes Francois would squeeze a suitor for a purchase. "Try your luck. Buy her a drink. You're a good looking man!"

"Buy her a drink and I will ask for you. I don't think she's interested so you might want to make it a spectacular cocktail." Francois would laugh as he delivered sparkling water and lime and return shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "Sorry! She's waiting for her Boo."

Mirabelle rolled her eyes as he brought her the 3rd water of the evening. "Francois! You're grifting!" Belle smirked, and was well aware that men and women found her intriguing and mysterious. She sighed, she felt the universe laughed knowing that she couldn't maintain a lasting connection with another person.

"It's okay Cher! They won't remember tomorrow!"

As the evening pushed past midnight Mirabelle was considering calling it a night. She wasn't interested in men or college students who might visit the ice cream shop. Just as she was about to head home a group of young women shuffled in having already spent some time on their bar tour.

Belle considered the group. She 'clocked' them easily. Older than college but not by much, young professional, visiting. A couple of "party girls," a "mom" carefully watching over the group, a couple of women along for the ride but cautious in the unfamiliar city.

A redhead already past her tipping point for having a responsible night moved to the bar waiting for Francois. Belle saw her eyes drift to her and widen slightly. She grinned and nodded before she turned to order a round of drinks, Hurricanes.