Create a similar story with title, change the names of the characters, keep the lesbian details and eliminate the sensual activities in the story. 
Flirting has never been Denny’s strong suit, but so what if she’s too shy to ask women out? She’s content with her simple life, working as a cashier and helping her sister raise her niece. 
But then she gets a wrong-number text message from a stranger named Eliza, asking her of all people for dating advice! 
Eliza is Denny’s total opposite: witty, outgoing—and straight. Despite their differences, the accidental text sparks an unlikely friendship. Soon, Eliza—self- proclaimed queen of disastrous first dates—would rather banter back and forth with Denny than to keep trying her luck at online dating. 
When they meet in person, there’s an instant connection. But what Eliza is feeling can’t be attraction, right? It doesn’t mean a thing that she’s starting to wish the guys she dates would be more like Denny. Or does it? 
Can the wrong number lead to the right woman after all? 
It’s April Fools’ Day, and Denny is at home, helping her niece, Bella, with her homework, when she gets a text message from an unknown number. 
Denny opened the message to read it.
A red SOS emoji jumped out at her, along with: Help! I’m hopelessly overthinking 
my first-date outfit.
Denny chuckled. Someone was asking her of all people for advice on fashion and 
dating? Everyone who knew her was well aware that she had no interest in the former and no talent for the latter. Was this an April Fools’ Day joke? 
Another message from the same unknown number popped up beneath the first one. 
What do you think? This...? 
A photo appeared on her screen. 
The selfie, shot in front of a closet with a mirrored door, showed a stranger. A cute stranger, Denny had to admit. The young woman’s glossy chestnut hair was tucked behind one ear, while the other side grazed her shoulder. A pair of black skinny jeans hugged her narrow waist and slim hips, and an off-the-shoulder top revealed tantalizing hints of fair skin. Her lips quirked up in a self-deprecating grin, and her dark eyes twinkled as if she was poking fun at herself for obsessing over what to wear. 
After a couple of minutes, a second picture arrived, along with the question: Or this one? 
The photo showed the same woman in a different outfit. A tight top stretched across her small breasts, and a flowing skirt that ended above her knees made her look like a ballet dancer, lithe and graceful. 
Denny’s gaze trailed down the stranger’s slender legs—then she burst out laughing. 
Instead of the sensible yet sexy heels she’d been wearing in the first picture, a pair of canary-yellow sneakers now graced the woman’s feet. 
Bella looked up from where she was trying to multiply fractions. “What’s that?” She craned her neck to catch a glimpse of what was on Denny’s screen. 
Denny hesitated. But why hide the messages from her niece? It wasn’t as if the stranger had sent her nude pictures. She turned the phone so Bella could see the photos. “Someone is asking for fashion advice. I think she has the wrong number.” 
Bella giggled and pointed at the baggy sweatpants and the worn T-shirt Denny had put on after taking a shower. “If she’s asking you for fashion advice, she’s clearly got the wrong number.” 
“Hardy-har-har.” Denny gave her a playful nudge that made Bella giggle even harder. “If you think I’m so fashion-challenged, maybe you should have someone else make your Halloween costume this year.” 
The giggling stopped abruptly, and Bella pretended to be focused on the phone. “So what are you going to tell her?” 
Denny shrugged. “Sorry, wrong number?”
Bella looked back at her with wide eyes. “But she needs help.”
Aww. Now that Bella was getting closer to puberty, she sometimes acted cool and 
aloof, but she couldn’t hide her big heart. “Okay, then let’s see if we can help her.” Denny still wasn’t sure how helpful she could be, though. Unlike her, the stranger clearly didn’t shop in the men’s section. She held out the phone to Bella and scrolled back and forth between the two images. “Which one?” 
“Sneakers with a skirt?” Bella burst into giggles again. 
Denny studied the photo once more. The canary-yellow sneakers made her smile. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.” 
“Mm-hmm, me too. Just be yourself, right?” 
It was what Denny and Salem had told her when she had come home crying a few years ago after someone at school had bullied her because she wasn’t wearing the 
right brand of clothes. Apparently, their words had gotten through to Bella after all. Denny smiled and nodded. “Right.” 
A string of new messages appeared on the phone, moving the photo up the screen until all Denny could see was the yellow sneakers. 
Heather???
Hello?
Which one?
Help me out here, please. I really don’t want to give the wrong impression.
Denny pulled the phone closer to her. Without letting herself overthink it the way 
she usually did when she talked to women, she typed, I’m not Heather, and as someone just reminded me, I’m not the best person to ask for fashion advice, but I’d definitely go with the second one. 
Several seconds ticked by. They bent their heads over the phone, waiting for a reply, but none came. 
Bella reached over and tapped the screen as if that would encourage the stranger to answer. 
Still nothing.
Bella shot her an accusatory look. “Oh no. I think you scared her off.”
Yeah, apparently, she had that effect on women. Denny was about to put her phone 
away when a new message arrived after all.
Heather? Please tell me this is an April Fools’ Day joke.
No, sorry, Denny typed back. It’s not a joke. You’ve got the wrong number.
Again, there was a short pause before the reply came. Oh shit. I’m so sorry. My friend 
just got a new phone. She must have given me the wrong number, or I put it in wrong. Don’t worry about it, Denny replied.
She waited for a few more seconds, but no answer came. None was needed. She 
had gotten accidental text messages a time or two before, and the short back-and- forth always ended at this point. But unlike the other times, she found herself a little regretful. She wanted to know more about the woman with the yellow sneakers. 
Bella nudged her. “Tell her you think the outfit is cute.” 
“I already told her to go with the sneaker one. Anything more would make me sound like a creep.” When Bella reached for the phone, Denny pulled it away and stuffed it into the pocket of her sweatpants. “Come on. Your mom will be home soon. Let’s set the table. You can finish your homework later.” 
Bella got the plates while Denny took knives and forks out of the drawer. When she placed the glasses on the table, her phone vibrated against her thigh. 
“Ooh! Is it Sneaker Girl?” Bella rushed around the table to stand next to her. 
“Sneaker Woman.” Denny wasn’t great at guessing women’s ages, but the stranger was probably at least ten years younger than her own forty-one, in her late twenties or early thirties. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Bella waved her hand. “Is it her? Check!” Denny pulled out the phone.
Yes. It was a new text from Sneaker Woman.
So, she had written, are you sure about that? 
That I’m not Heather? 100% positive. But I can check my ID to make sure, if you want. Denny added a grinning smiley face. 
Sneaker Woman answered with a rolling-on-the-floor-laughing emoji. No, that’s fine. I’ll trust you to know your own name. I meant about the outfit. 
If you like wearing it, why not? Denny typed back. You should wear whatever you feel comfortable in. If your date doesn’t appreciate you the way you are, they’re not worth your time. She hesitated, but when Bella nudged her again, she added, I, for one, would think it’s cute if my date showed up dressed like that. 
They waited, but again no answer came.
“See?” Denny muttered. “Now we really scared her off.”
“No, look, she’s typing.” Bella pointed at the three animated dots that had popped 
up on the screen.
A moment later, they disappeared, and Sneaker Woman’s reply showed up beneath 
the other messages. Thank you. That’s good advice. I needed to hear that today. Despite your low opinion on your own fashion sense, I think you helped me more than Heather would have. 
Glad to help. Denny lowered her phone and glanced at her niece. She couldn’t have kept her broad smile in check even if she had wanted. “What do you know? We helped her.