Ruffles and Lace

Every once and a while, two lonely characters decide to tell me their story and I, like the scribe that I am, try to capture it the best way that I can. This is one of those stories. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. As always, this is a mature story containing adult characters, settings, and situations. If you're under the age of consent you should refrain from reading this story or any of the others in my catalog. With that said, here is Ruffles and Lace, a tale of finding love. Enjoy.

Erica Scott rode the bus nearly every day she didn't have to run errands. It was so much easier, no worries about feeding the stupid parking meter in front of her store either. The bus transfer was easy, with little wait time, and it dropped her only a block away from her store.

She usually sat further back near the rear of the bus; it made it easy to jump on and off. It also allowed her to people watch, a favorite pastime. But today was Saturday; it seemed to be 'old lady shopping day' and the bus was full, loaded with wire-framed shopping carts and handbags large enough to carry a medium-sized dog. She was forced to sit up front because her favorite seats in the back were taken.

Over the weeks she rode the bus, she noticed a man sitting on the same bus but usually further up. His nose was forever buried in a video game of some sort. He had a nice complexion, soft blonde hair and gentle eyes. There was something about him that kept drawing her attention. What was it? His mannerisms seemed a bit effeminate but that could mean he was either gay or just a gentle soul. She hoped the latter, but she couldn't for the life of her understand why that would make a difference?

She'd had such a rocky road with men in her life. High school was a nightmare; it always is for girls with a big chest. It wasn't her fault she developed early. The high school boys were just a bunch of gropers; she'd heard her friends talk. So she waited until college for her first date, Mr. Macho, she called him, but not to his face. He turned out to be a total ass, more interested in her assets than her ideas. The thought that maybe he'd been raised by wolves, or jackasses made her smile even now.

The bus jostled everyone as it rumbled over a series of potholes, making all the shopping carts rattle. Once things settled down and handbags and shopping carts were realigned, she continued with her reverie. After Mr. Macho, what followed was a string of, as she looked back on it now, bad decisions leading to an engagement that could have been disastrous, if she followed through with it. Once she discovered her asshole fiancé fucking one of her bridesmaids in the coatroom at the Marriott where they held the rehearsal dinner, though, it was all over.

She sighed, girls were better, at least the gentler ones. Speaking of gentler, the man she'd been curious about just stepped onto the bus. She wondered who he was and what he did? Did he have a girlfriend? He wasn't married, no ring on his finger. He certainly liked his video games, it seemed that nothing could distract him. Today, however, he was forced to stand and hold onto a strap or fall over, every seat was taken. She wondered if he'd look her way?

Once on the bus, Jodi looked about for a seat; seeing none, he grabbed an overhead strap and retired his online game to his messenger bag. He was on the cross-town bus on his way to work and was dressed casually today; his only accessory was the messenger bag he slung over his shoulder. It was the weekend and even though he had to work, at least he'd be comfortable. His skinny frame was concealed by the baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt he wore, sans any team logo, of course. It concealed other things he felt were too personal to reveal as well. He didn't have to shave, having blonde hair and a beard that still refused to come in, even after he turned 26 was a source of frustration for a young man trying to establish himself.

Sure, it meant it was faster from bed to dressed to out the door. But that was hardly a consideration when he compared it to his damaged male ego. To compensate for the lack of a beard, he wore his hair kind of shaggy and long, as a tribute to his rebel youth he thought, and maybe a gesture to a lost girlfriend, Lana, who liked it that way.

Today the bus was crowded. Well, no matter, he only had a few more stops before he got off.

The bus pulled up at a stop and an elderly woman got up to leave. She was sitting next to a pretty redhead. Jodi noticed her when he got on, but he tried to be covert about it, men staring at pretty women wasn't considered polite and might result in a bit of trouble.

"You're welcome to join me here," the redhead said, smiling and gesturing to the seat next to her.

He looked down quizzically then glanced about. Perhaps she was speaking to someone else. He turned back to her. "You sure?"

"Yes." She was dressed in Yoga pants that fit a very nice pair of legs and a loose t-shirt with brightly colored running shoes. She was quite beautiful for what little makeup she wore. Her auburn-red hair framed a lovely face with high cheekbones and arched eyebrows that accented an amazing pair of blue-green eyes.

She nudged her bag out of the way and gestured for him to sit.

"Thanks. I'm Jodi by the way," he said, sitting and extending his hand to her.

She shook his hand with a smile. "I'm Erica."

"It's nice to meet you."

She nodded and continued to smile.

She had a pleasant smile; it was open and inviting.

"You looked a little bewildered standing there," she said.

"I often do on my way to work, it's my nature," he grinned sheepishly, and then glanced at his watch.

She tilted her head slightly. "Do you normally work on Saturdays?"

"Every other weekend I 'draw the short straw', so-to-speak." He offered her a small shrug.

"What do you do?"

"I'm an accountant. I work at Thompson, Shrift, and Reardon, downtown. I'm just one of the staff employees in a sea of cubicles, nothing special."

"Oh, do you do business taxes?"

"When I get the chance, which hasn't been all that often lately."

"How come?"

He furrowed his brow. "It's, well...it's complicated."

She seemed to pause a moment and study his face, and then, as if on impulse, she reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. "Here, this is my place. I know it's not tax season yet, but I could always use extra advice, especially with organization." She handed the card to Jodi. "I can't afford much but I'm willing to pay you what I can. Call me if you have time to drop by and lend a hand, I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure." He glanced at his watch again. The bus was approaching his stop. "This is my stop, I have to go, thanks again."

She offered a cheerful wave and he was out the door.

Erica wondered what the 'complication' was? What would tie up a guy so much he couldn't take on an extra client or two? She shrugged. "Well, if he calls, he calls," she muttered as she held her purse, ready for the door to open two stops later. She had to pick up her car at the auto repair place and then it was a day of shopping at thrift stores and estate sales to look forward too.

At work Jodi pulled the card out again. Now that Lana was out of his life, maybe he could find the time to help Erica, anything to take his mind off things. Lana taught him a lot of things; she introduced him to his wild side, but he needed stability now and Lana was anything but stable.

She was gone now and probably already in LA. She sort of left without much warning; he knew there were no strings tying her down, she was kind of a free spirit in that way. She got a call from a friend who knew a friend and she was gone.

He sighed. It was fun while it lasted but now he was faced with having to figure out on his own what was next in his life; something he hadn't done in a while.

He read the card: 'Ruffles and Lace: A Vintage Boutique'. He leaned his chin on his hand and wondered if she'd trade a scarf or two for his help? That would be nice. Suddenly he blushed, he couldn't risk anyone knowing about him, especially at work. He sighed, perhaps no scarves after all.

He put a finger under his bandage on his right side to pull it down a bit. It was too tight, but tight was what he needed if he didn't want anyone to discover anything about him. He looked around to see if anyone was watching; they weren't. They were all buried in their own personal minutiae looking for errors in the records.

A moment later, Jodi stood in the restroom washing his hands. He didn't want to get too close to his co-workers, so he often spent his breaks and lunchtime sitting alone a restroom stall, or in a nearby stairwell. The next few floors of the building weren't leased out at the moment so that provided enough privacy. Most of his co-workers seemed to accept his standoffish nature; maybe they thought he was anti-social, or hopefully just really shy. He preferred the latter, but regardless, it was the price he had to pay for his foolish desire to please his ex-girlfriend.

He sighed and turned to the ledger sheet on his computer terminal when he returned from his break. It's not that he didn't like accounting; it was just something that was easy for him. He took a big breath and let it out slowly then shoved Erica's card back into his pants pocket.

Marley, another accountant across the aisle, leaned back in her seat and offered him a friendly wave. He smiled meekly, offered her a little wave in return, and turned back to his terminal. His colleagues scared him a little; what would they think if they knew about him?

Maybe he'd call Erica Monday; she was kind, even friendly. He needed friendly right now; Lana left such a huge hole in his life. Most importantly, she wasn't a co-worker, someone he needed to see every day. He just had to find a way to manage how close he'd let her get to him.

He finally worked up the courage to call Erica's shop the following Wednesday afternoon. She was enthusiastic about his help so Thursday after work he walked into her store.

The place had an amazing display of vintage antiques -- just like the card read. It was filled with racks of beautiful lace and ruffled dresses, blouses, and lingerie; stuff he might have seen in his great aunt's closet if he'd ever looked, she was rather rich.

There was a rack on the wall filled with shoes, some vintage and some new; there were boots, flats, and stiletto heels; even button up Victorian knock-offs. He ran his hand along the fabric as he worked his way towards the back. It was such a sensuous sensation. It was hard to control his emotions, but he did.

"Hi," he said softly. "You said you needed help with your receipts?"

"Oh, wonderful, thank you, I'm so glad you called yesterday. Follow me, I'll show you what I need help with." She must have been dressed in one of her gowns; it flowed softly around her as she led the way into the back of the store.

He followed her as she moved gracefully through another door and into her office. She pulled up several large paper sacks filled with notes, scribblings, and receipts. She handed them to him and gestured to the far wall where her desk, another pile of disorganization, sat. "You can use my desk." She heard a tiny bell ring and she stepped away to handle another customer.

He sat down and within minutes it was obvious that he had a colossal mess on his hands. She was right when she mentioned organization; it was a nightmare.

A few minutes later, she walked back into her office to check on him. As she looked over his shoulder and leaned forward she touched his back. He jumped at her touch.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?"

"What?"

"The bandages, did you sprain something?"

"Oh, eh no, it's for something else." He looked up; his eyes were momentarily filled with fear. He needed to change the subject. "Look, these receipts are a mess."

"I know...can you help?"

"I can but..." He shrugged meekly. "I need more time than a few minutes in your office. Can I stay after you close and concentrate on fixing this? No extra charge, of course."

"Sure, but can I help?"

"What?" He hesitated...a single woman alone after hours? That was awfully trusting, but the bigger issue was what if she discovered what he wanted to keep from everyone?

"Please," she pleaded. "The whole thing is my mess in the first place, at least let me help fix it. My business partner bailed on me six months ago and left me with this mess. She was the organizer; I was the buyer. Now it's just me," she said lifting her arms into the air in exasperation.

He took a big breath and let it out slowly. What she was asking was difficult, aside from the fact that they would be alone together. Still, the pile of notes and scribblings in front of him were going to take weeks to rectify and she would be a big help, especially with his limited understanding of how her business worked. He glanced at the sacks of receipts still on the floor in total disarray. Maybe if he arranged a simple ground rule of no touching. He looked up at her; the hope in her eyes was unmistakable.

He nodded his head. "Okay. I'll come by tomorrow night after you close. We can set things up in here."

"Fantastic." She moved to hug him but then she hesitated. She smiled meekly and offered her hand, which he took. "I really do appreciate this, Jodi, thanks."

She was a hugger; he had to be mindful of that. He nodded as he swept the remaining receipts back into the first paper sack. He gathered the other sacks as he stood and placed them on an empty shelf nearby then followed her out of her office. It was going to be a long couple of nights ahead, but she seemed like a nice person and he wanted to do this for her.

At six o'clock the following evening he walked back into her shop. The tiny bell announced his arrival. By now he'd had time to remove his tie and change into an over-sized polo shirt. It wasn't totally casual, but it would have to do. He walked back to the back of her store and saw her standing near a small rack, sorting.

"Hi," he said with a small wave. He was surprised to see her dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and ballet flats as she turned to greet him. "Thank you so much Jodi, this means a lot to me."

He nodded and led the way to her office. "I need to establish a simple ground rule Erica, I sort of have a few sensitive places and I really don't want anyone to touch them, okay?"

"Of course, I'm sorry about yesterday, it won't happen again. Is there anything else?"

He raised his hand and scratched the back of his head. "No, that's it I suppose.

"Can I get you something to drink? A glass of wine, perhaps?"

"Just water would be fine," he said watching her turn and head back to a small kitchenette in the next room.

The bandages made her curious. Maybe it was a big birthmark; some people are oversensitive about those things. She shrugged her shoulders and filled a glass with tap water then filled a glass with white wine for herself. She returned to her office and took a seat next to a table she had placed there earlier. He already had some of the receipts dumped out on it. She handed him the glass of water.

"Thanks," he said setting it aside.

They worked for several hours sorting the receipts and scraps of paper. She was helpful in deciphering her notes and the little scribbled records he added to her pile. Plus she was beginning to understand his method of organization, which would help in the future. They finished one bag and Jodi stretched, apparently trying to ease a few kinks after a long day at the office.

The polo shirt stretched across his chest and Erica looked up at the unusually large bumps displayed by the tightness of the shirt. Breasts? Was that what the bandages masked?

He pulled back from his stretch and noticed her staring at his chest. He looked down and quickly crouched over attempting to cover his chest with his arms. His face was burning red. "Please don't tell anyone, Erica...please." He looked into her eyes pleadingly.

"Jodi, what's wrong?"

"You saw, didn't you? Oh, damn it," he whimpered, and then he shouted as he stood up. "I was afraid something like this would happen."

"Jodi, I don't understand. Why are you getting so upset? What's wrong?"

"I tried so hard to keep this a secret and then I got careless and you saw them, didn't you? I took the bandages off this afternoon before I came over because they were starting to hurt me." He stood there shaking. "I thought my shirt would be baggy enough to hide them."

"Jodi, why are you acting like this?" She stood and took his hand to bring him over to a small couch near the office door. "Sit down here and tell me what's going on. What is it that you think I saw?" She reached out and gently touched his arm.

"These," he said pointing to his chest. "My breasts. It was a stupid decision...my ex thought it was a good idea at the time. So now...I'm saddled with them. There are not a lot of male accountants who have breasts; man boobs maybe, but not something as large as these. If people, like my colleagues, knew I'd be humiliated, you won't tell them will you? They'd call me a sissy or somebody's bitch. I am not a sissy! I hate that word!" He was beginning to become agitated. "So what if I like feminine things, that doesn't make me gay!"

"Okay Jodi, okay. I'm not going to tell anyone. Please, just calm down." Erica, gently rubbed his arm and attempted to get him to relax. "I'm listening, just tell me how this happened, okay?"

He took a big breath and tried to settle himself. He looked into her eyes; her smile seemed so trusting, so supportive. His tried to calm down and regain a little composure. Could he trust her? What if she laughed at him? Could he take that sort of ridicule? She hadn't said anything yet; she might as well hear the whole story, she already knew part of it.

He closed his eyes and started to reflect on what brought him to this moment. When he finally felt he could go on, he decided that he had to tell someone, and Erica seemed to be someone he could trust. He turned to tell her and told her what happened.

"I met this girl in college, her name was Lana. I was always timid around women and maybe she picked up on that, I don't know. She was totally gorgeous, way out of my league, and then, much to my surprise, we started going out. What attracted her to me was a mystery, at least to me. About a month or so later, she found an apartment and we moved in together. It was her idea, she was kind of bossy that way, which certainly didn't bother me, she was wild and passionate about life and I was naïve and a little timid."

Erica nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"One night, after we spent the evening cuddling, she admitted to me that she was more interested in girls than boys. I was a little taken aback; after all she was my girlfriend, wasn't she? Before I could object, she said she liked me because I seemed more feminine than most boys, and that, with a little work, I might pass as her cute new girlfriend when we went to her favorite club."

"The thought sort of intrigued me. I did like the feel of women's lingerie; she'd asked me to wear some of hers before. On a lark, I tried them on and I enjoyed it, especially when we made love. But I told her I was not gay, that I liked girls. She nodded and kissed me on the lips, saying 'I like girls too, they're soft and smell nice, and when we kiss it's almost electric. Plus, they know how to treat a woman like a woman, never just a 'slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am'."

Erica smiled, she'd had similar thoughts in the past, but something was always missing.

"I looked up and her eyes were gleaming with mischief. She pulled me off the couch and into her bedroom. She plunked me down in front of her dressing table and pulled out her makeup stuff. She said, 'Now pay attention sweetie, sooner or later you will have to do this yourself.' A half hour after that, even though she only did my eyes and lips, I was mesmerized. From that moment on, I was her new girlfriend and I did most anything she wanted me to do; even these," he said pointing to his breasts. "But I'm still not gay."