by Maggie Brown
“You live alone, Winter?” asked Pandora as she scooped up an olive and a piece of cheese from the dish on the table.
“I have for over two and a half years,” she answered quickly—too quickly—aware Pandora was looking down at her ring finger. She tucked her hand into her lap.
“Ah. Sorry. That must sound like I was prying.” But from the gleam in her eye, she didn’t appear too sorry.
“What about you, Pandora? Someone at home?” broke in Jessie. Winter leaned forward to hear the reply.
The singer’s eyebrows lifted fractionally. “Not when I looked last.”
“Leave the woman alone, Jessie,” said Linda, “and stop being nosy. She can have anyone she wants.”
Pandora smiled at her. “Why thank you. That was a sweet thing to say.”
“True enough though,” replied Linda wistfully.
“Trust me,” murmured Pandora, waving at herself. “All this is only an illusion. A skin I shed as soon as I go out the door.”
“Maybe so, but—”
“Hello, Pandora,” interrupted a male voice.
Winter glanced up quickly at the sound, momentarily caught in the pinpoint lights that shimmered on the ceiling. A bulky man around five ten in a dark suit, stood in front of them. He was facing Pandora, half turned away from Winter. When his head swam into focus, she gave a hiss of surprise. Lawrence Partridge. Thankfully, he hadn’t looked her way—she had no wish for a public confrontation. He hated her, and the feeling was mutual.
Last year, she had counselled a client against buying a half-billion-dollar company in which Partridge was a major shareholder. After a great deal of research, she found the figures of one of the smaller subsidiary holdings of the company didn’t add up and had advised against the purchase. The withdrawal of the offer had led to some very heated words in the negotiation chamber. Partridge had stormed out of the room, though not before he had called her some offensive names. She had been tempted to slap a defamation suit on him, but that would have only meant she’d have to have more dealings with him. She’d had no wish to see him again.
Pandora nodded impersonally at him. “Lawrence.”
He skimmed a glance over her chest. “Would you like to come over to my table for a drink?”
She remained unsmiling as she shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve waited all night to speak to you,” he said, his congenial grin slipping a notch.
“Maybe another time. I’m with friends.”
At that statement, he gazed around the table. When his eyes settled on Winter, his beefy face hardened. “You prefer to be with this bitch Winter Carlyle?” he snarled.
Winter’s face went red hot as her temper spiked. “Hello to you too, Lawrence,” she snapped back, not bothering to hide her dislike. “And call me that again and I’ll see you in court. I’m not joking.”
“You think you—” he began, then must have realized she was quite serious, for he bit off the sentence with a swallow. “Shit. You’re not worth wasting my breath on.” He turned back to Pandora and skimmed a hand over her shoulder. “Come on, honey. My friends want to meet you.”
Something about the possessive way he was touching Pandora, sent another wave of anger rippling through Winter. This time fiercer. Every inch of her body stiffened. She couldn’t explain why she had such a reaction, or why it mattered, but it made her mad as hell. Struggling for calm, she half rose in the chair. “Didn’t you hear her. She said another time. In my book that means no.”
“Piss off, Winter. Have you told her you’re a bloody lesbian yet?”
“That’s enough, Lawrence. You’re being rude and insulting,” Pandora interrupted. Her voice was still low, but disdain and cold anger radiated in the tone. Far more chilling than if she had shouted the words. “You’d better go. Oh…and don’t bother sending any more flowers. I won’t be accepting them.”
For a long moment he stared at her, the high colour in his face beginning to fade to a pasty grey. He looked undecided for a moment, then abruptly turned and strode off. No one spoke. Winter sat mortified, wondering if she should just get up and go. She’d made a complete fool of herself, never having been involved in so public an altercation before. Could this night get any worse? God knows what Pandora thought of her now. Not knowing what to do, she clasped her hands in her lap and avoided looking at anyone.
Linda patted her arm and a chuckle from Jessie broke the silence. “Who exactly was that fuckwit, Winter? I’ve never seen you so riled up.”
She gave her a sickly smile. “We had a business run-in. I’m bound by confidentiality, but I can say that I cost him a lot of money…and I mean mega dollars.” Feeling obliged to say something to Pandora, she turned to her. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have interfered.”
Anger flared in Pandora’s eyes. “You think I’d encourage a man like that?”
“Well…um…I wouldn’t presume to know whom you’d like. I personally find the man repugnant, but that doesn’t mean you would. I’ve often been baffled by the laws of attraction. Some people are drawn like magnets to the most unsuitable partners.”
Pandora snapped her glass down on the table. It gave a resounding clunk. “This isn’t about quantum physics. This is about my integrity. And you’re bringing that into question, Winter.”
She winced. Could she muddle this up much more? “That wasn’t what I meant. I was only trying to help.”
“I know perfectly well how to handle men, and women, like him,” Pandora said quietly. “Money is power, but it’s not the only power.”
“Perhaps I’d better stick to the laws of economics. Human relations aren’t my forte,” muttered Winter ruefully.
Linda leaned forward to snuggle into her side. “Hey, baby, I think you did just great. You’re kinda sexy all hot and bothered.”
“Yeah, come on,” said Dana. “Don’t let that dropkick spoil our party. I could do with another drink. Where is that waitress. What was her name again?”
Jessie slapped her arm. “Frankie…as if you didn’t know. You’re so full of shit, Dana.”
To give her feelings a rest, Winter sat back just listening to them happily babble away. Pandora seemed to get over her hissy fit quickly enough to join in the friendly wisecracks, though Winter noticed she didn’t look her way again. It was also very annoying that Linda had her hand on her thigh. She wanted to push it off, but that would probably appear petulant on her part. The less attention to herself the better now.
Frankie proved a pleasant distraction, hovering around their table as much as she could and accepting their ribbing in good heart. It wasn’t long before she realized that Jessie was acting completely out of character. Gone was the arrogant assured player. She was actually behaving normally around Pandora, rather than turning on her usual bold charm. Winter studied her quietly. If she didn’t know better, it looked like Jessie was genuinely interested in the singer and not just as a casual pick-up. At this epiphany, a bad taste filled Winter’s mouth. She had no idea why the thought of the two of them together annoyed her so much. She didn’t know Pandora and she’d been waiting for years for Jessie to find someone she could care for.
Time flew and it was past two when Pandora announced, “I’m off home. It’s been a long day.”
“I think we’re all ready to head out too. It’s been a great night and thanks for your company,” said Jessie.
“My pleasure. Look…next Saturday is a special night at the club to celebrate a Russian holiday, if you’d like to come. It’s themed…everyone usually wears something red.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Jessie enthusiastically. “I’ll make sure I’m not on call.”
Dana and Linda nodded, promising they’d make it as well. Unsure if she was included in the invitation, Winter remained quiet. But as they rose to go, Pandora put her hand on her arm. “You girls go on and order a cab. I want a quick word with Winter.”
She glanced at her in surprise, though didn’t argue. Trying
to ignore the pleasant warmth of the hand on her skin, she tilted her head at Pandora enquiringly after the others had moved out of hearing range.
“Would you have lunch with me sometime during the week?”
Winter stared at her incredulously. “You’re asking me out?”
Pandora flushed and said brusquely, “It’s not a date. We need to talk. You seem to have formed an opinion of me that’s upsetting.”
“Why would you worry what I thought of you? You made it quite clear you don’t care for my opinion.”
“You’re taking everything too personally. I’m not a fool…I know you came here to check up on Michael and I’d like to put things straight. But not here. Somewhere where we can talk quietly and rationally. When we’re not so tired.” Pandora lightly squeezed her arm as she spoke.
The squeeze was friendly, feminine, and Winter melted into the touch. “Okay,” she muttered, not hesitating anymore. Lunch with her sounded nice—super nice actually. “Would Wednesday suit? Say twelve thirty at the White Lace in the city. It has a decent menu and there are tables out the back where we won’t be disturbed.”
“Perfect.”
“Will you be safe going home by yourself? It’s very late. We can drop you off.”
“I have an apartment only a few blocks away and Kurt always walks me home. I have to change into street clothes before leaving the club so I’ll still be a little while,” replied Pandora with a smile.
“Kurt?”
“He’s our pianist and a good friend.”
“Yes, of course. I forgot. You have a man to protect you…that’s good. I’ll say goodnight then.”
Winter made her way to the door, resisting the urge to run. The woman had her in a dither. She’d never felt this attracted to Christine, even in their first months together. Theirs had been a quiet orderly romance with very little spontaneity or overwhelming passion.
She shook away her thoughts as she spied only two of her friends on the footpath. “Where’s Dana?”
“Gone home with Frankie.” Jessie looked at her curiously. “Care to share?”
“Not really. It was between the two of us.”
She was saved from any more questions when a yellow taxi pulled up at the edge of the pavement. They dropped Linda off first then continued on to Jessie’s house. As they sped through the nearly deserted streets, she turned to look at Jessie. Her friend’s face was only visible by the glow of the streetlights streaming by, but to Winter she seemed pensive. “I hope you haven’t got your eye on Pandora, Jess. Straight women will break your heart.”
Jessie’s teeth flashed white in the night as a laugh exploded from her. “Geez, Winter, you really are clueless. Pandora is a big ol’ lesbian, just like us.”
Chapter Five
Pandora stripped off her dress, whimpering a little as she pried off her shoes. Five-inch heels were far too high to be comfortable. She needed to visit a shoe shop before she wrecked her feet or broke a leg. Besides, it would hardly matter if she went down to three inches. She doubted anyone would even notice. Most would be focused on her face and body. After easing off her fishnet stockings, she slipped into her jeans and T-shirt. But as she pulled on her old comfortable Jimmy Choo boots, she began to wonder why on earth she was going home. Her lonely apartment was the last place she wanted to be tonight. Winter Carlyle had her so wired it was pointless trying to sleep. She needed to unwind, go somewhere where she was anonymous, where Pandora didn’t exist.
And she knew the very place.
Revisiting the wardrobe, she took her light blue dress shirt off the hanger and discarded the T-shirt. Determinedly, she scrubbed off the layers of makeup, for tonight she needed to purge the club from her skin. When satisfied her face was perfectly clean, she ran her fingers through her hair to feel the texture as she always did before she tied it up. The black tresses were thick and silky, a legacy from her dear old Irish grandma. After quickly braiding the ponytail, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She was herself again and not some show pony on a stage.
After sending Kurt a text to tell him she was going out rather than heading home, she ordered a taxi.
Light rain had begun to fall as the cab reached a plain wooden door in the narrow side street. The entrance to the small private “ladies only” club was situated far enough away from the main social strip to remain discreetly hidden from passers-by. After scrutinizing her ID, the doorman waved her inside. As soon as she stepped into the room, every sense in her body sparked to life. The dancing was in full swing. She stood mesmerized by the flashing coloured lights and the pulsing beat of the music: vivid, frenetic, mind blowing. Just what she needed.
She made her way to the bar, though didn’t plan to drink. She wanted to dance, to let off steam, to forget everything for a few hours.
“Ginger ale,” she ordered, raising her voice above the din.
When it arrived, she swivelled on the barstool and idly sipped as she gazed around. A friend had brought her here over a year ago when she first came to the city, and the place hadn’t changed. It still had the nineties look with its preppy pastel walls covered with psychedelic posters of women, and the air held that slight smell of countless spilled beers. But it felt warm and inviting, an intrinsic feeling that the Silver Fox lacked for all its cultivated interior design.
She didn’t have long to wait. A dark-eyed woman in her late twenties with an olive complexion, wearing a tube top and spandex black pants that showed every inch of her athletic body, sidled up beside her. Her short hair suited her square face and when she smiled, two dimples peeped out. After giving Pandora the onceover, she asked, “Wanna dance?”
“You bet,” she replied and followed her to the floor.
And then she was lost in the rhythm, the beat, the mindless mass of gyrating bodies. It was wild. It was fast. It was perfect. Her partners came and went but she danced on, until finally just before five, the DJ announced, “Last song, girls.”
When a slow love song started to play, the dancers began to couple up.
The spandex girl was moving towards her, when a tall well-built woman in red leather veered in between them and pulled Pandora into her arms. She felt the hot heat from the strong body, the warm breath on her cheek. Fingers cruised up her back as a whisper echoed in her ear. “Would you like to come home with me?” Her voice was deep and husky, her cologne sharp and spicy.
Pandora considered the offer as they swayed together to the music. Anonymous sex. No strings, no unwanted ties, no recriminations. It’d been months since she’d been with a woman, and this Amazon looked like she knew how to satisfy her, how to have her screaming out her name.
For a moment she was tempted, but sex with a stranger wasn’t really her thing. And she had already met the one who caught her interest. Anyone else just wouldn’t feel right. But it was just her luck it was an uptight high-flying corporate lawyer who had made it quite clear she disapproved of her. Who thought she was straight, willing to seduce a boy and encourage a sleazy fifty-year-old playboy. Not to mention that Winter already had a pretty blond nurse fawning over her.
With a touch of regret, Pandora slowly drew out of the embrace. “Sorry, babe. I only came to dance tonight.”
The Amazon rocked back on her heels with a rueful smile. “My loss then. You certainly are a fine-looking woman. Maybe you’ll visit the place again one night when you’re more in the mood. Now come on and I’ll escort you out the door so no one will bother you. There are a few girls on the make who’ve been drinking too much. I’ll wait with you until your taxi comes.”
Pandora took her hand with gratitude. Though she knew how to look after herself, it was nice to be the object of such chivalry. The big woman was a real treasure.
* * *
When Pandora reached the White Lace a few minutes before twelve thirty, Winter was already waiting outside. Dressed in a dove-grey pin-striped suit, a cornflower-blue shirt opened to the top of her cleavage and a pair of natty designer sunglasses, she
looked the epitome of a successful woman. Even in the bustling crowds of the city, she stood out. Pandora was pleased now she had chosen to wear the silk knee-length dress, her favourite in her wardrobe. She smoothed down the front self-consciously, aware she had dressed for a date rather than a casual luncheon with an acquaintance.
When she realized she’d never see Winter again once they left the club, the invitation had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. While the others enthusiastically agreed to come the following Saturday night, she doubted Winter would bother to return. Clubbing didn’t seem her scene. So, Pandora made up a pretence of wanting to talk about Michael, knowing full well it was just an excuse. She was actually surprised Winter agreed to meet her so readily, considering she had studiously avoided looking at her most of the night.
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, then stepped forward to greet her. “Hey, Winter. Thank you for meeting with me.”
“Hi. Really, it’s nice to have lunch with someone other than my office colleagues. We tend to talk shop too much. Shall we go in?” said Winter, looking serene as she waved her inside the restaurant.
After they placed their orders at the counter, Pandora followed her out to a small courtyard filled with tables covered with checked tablecloths. This secluded section was quiet, the sound of the traffic so muted it was almost musical. “This is really quaint,” she exclaimed.
“It’s one of my favourite places,” said Winter. “A little secret I don’t share with the office. A hideaway when I want to get away by myself if I’m too stressed.”
“I know what you mean. When I perform, I can’t avoid public scrutiny which becomes wearing. Alone time becomes precious.”
Winter’s eyes were shrewd and probing. “I can believe there would be complications with an act like yours. I imagine some customers wouldn’t have the wit to separate the woman on the stage from the real one underneath. You must have lots of unwanted advances.”
“You get used to it. It comes with the territory. I’ve learned to make it plain from the beginning that I never mix my work at the club with my personal life.”
