Meet-Cute for Pride Month – #LGBTQ #OppositesAttract #MFRWHooks

Happy Pride Month! In celebration of the rainbow of gender diversity, I plan to be posting from my LGBTQ fiction during all of June.

My excerpt today is from “Rush Hour”, part of my lesbian short story collection Burn, Baby.

I’ve seen other authors post excerpts they described as “meet-cute”. I’ve never exactly understood what that means or where the term came from. However, when I picked out this snippet from my opposites-attract FF romance, it struck me that this scene might qualify. What do you think?

The Hook

Nothing is impossible, optimists will say. Have they ever tried to get a cab during rush hour? In the rain? I’d been standing on Fifth Avenue for twenty minutes, my briefcase clutched precariously under the same arm that held up my umbrella, waving at the taxis filing by in slow motion. Every one was full.

The clock was ticking. I was due at Cipriani in less than two hours to welcome the board of directors. I had to get home. A motorcycle roared through the streaming gutters, nearly knocking me over. A tsunami of dirty water rose to soak my pants. Thanks, buddy. Now I really had to get home.

I should have taken the subway. I didn’t want to ruin my suit in the rain, but that hardly mattered now. I was just about to give up and walk when I saw a cab with his light on, halfway up the block. Juggling briefcase, purse and umbrella, I scrambled through the crowd on the sidewalk. He might be my last chance.

He was stuck in traffic. I prayed that the signal didn’t change. Just as I reached him, a black-clad figure pushed past me and wrenched the door open.

“Hey! That’s my cab!”

“No way, lady. I got here first.” The girl grinned at me, pale makeup and purple lipstick giving her a ghoulish quality. She started to climb into the vehicle but I grabbed her sleeve.

“I’m late. I need this cab. It’s terribly important. You can take the next one.”

“You think that I don’t have important places to go?” She pulled her arm from my grasp, further stretching her already misshapen sweater. “I’ve got rehearsal in half an hour. Now get out of my way.”

She tried to elbow past me. Desperate, knowing I’d feel bad later, I snatched her shoulder bag and threw it on the sidewalk.

“You bitch!” As she ducked down to pick it up, I slid into the taxi. Before I could slam the door, though, she pushed in after me, jabbing me in the ribs with her umbrella. The door closed just as the traffic light turned green.

“Where to, ladies?” The cabbie was torn between annoyance and amusement.

“Ow! 32nd and Lex, please.” I could barely get the words out.

“No, don’t listen to her. Houston, near Varick. Step on it!”

“Ignore her. I was in the cab first. If you don’t take me to Murray Hill immediately, I’ll report you.”

A truck cut in front of us. The driver stomped on the brakes, hurling our bodies forward. The girl let out a wail as her forehead hit the plexiglass partition. I was smothered by sudden remorse.

“Are you all right? Miss?” She slumped down in the seat, looking dazed. A bruise was already reddening above her left eyebrow. “Can you hear me?” She nodded vaguely.

“You should be wearing your seat belts,” the driver commented. I fastened mine, then reached around the young woman’s slight figure to secure hers. From her drenched garments rose a funk of damp wool and marijuana. Multiple steel rings pierced her earlobes. On her pale neck, below her right ear, was a neatly etched tattoo of a skull. Under her shapeless sweater she wore a snug black V-necked jersey. Guilt tightened its grip on me when I realized I was admiring her cleavage.

I leaned toward the driver. “Go ahead to Houston as she asked. She needs help.”

“No, that’s okay.” Her voice quavered a bit. “I’m all right. You can stop at 32nd first. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She fingered the swelling on her forehead. “The band can wait. I’m the lead singer. They can’t start without me.”

“Look, I’m sorry about grabbing your bag. That was really rude.”

She grinned, showing an even line of white teeth that contrasted with her livid mouth. “Yeah, it was. Not what I’d expect from a fancy executive like you.”

“I really do want to apologize. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No sweat. Sometimes this city makes you crazy, right?”

 

Image by Rahul Pandit from Pixabay

Find the buy links for Burn, Baby at https://www.lisabetsarai.com/burnbabybook.html

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks hop!

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