A Long List of Firsts: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

by Sabrina Kane

  The meeting had just ended and Rachel was now washing her hands when Debbie, a middle-aged broker who had just gotten her license only four months ago, came in.

  “Hey,” Rachel said with a smile.

  “Hey,” Debbie said with her own smile, heading toward one of the four stalls. But she stopped, turned to Rachel and said, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” Rachel said.

  “Are you happy here?”

  Rachel’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “Um…yeah,” she answered. “I mean, for the time being.”

  Being an associate broker at this firm wasn’t nearly as bad as working for any one of the larger brokerages which had thousands of agents nationwide, like Russ Lyon or Coldwell Banker. At those brokerages, it was incredibly difficult to make a good living. For starters, they took anywhere from thirty to thirty-five percent of an agent’s commission. For another, they charged their brokers a monthly fee just for the privilege of working there. When Rachel had first started out, she actually had signed with Russ Lyon because they promised that she would be mentored and have access to all sorts of other forms of training to help her grow as an agent. Whereas that had been true, the amount of money it cost Rachel to be part of that national chain had meant that she had been barely able to support herself.

  So, she left Russ Lyon eventually and signed with this brokerage. Bartow-Alcott was far smaller and also provided her mentorship. But they only took a $299 transaction fee whenever she closed on a house. Her income had risen dramatically, especially once she became the Doctor Whisperer.

  “Why do you ask?” she asked Debbie.

  “Well…I was wondering if you ever thought about starting your own firm,” Debbie stated.

  Again, Rachel’s eyebrows danced upwards.

  “It just seems like you’re doing really well,” Debbie went on, “and I think I would learn so much more if I was part of an even smaller brokerage and working directly with someone who seems to really know what she was doing.”

  “Thanks!” Rachel said. For some reason, the compliment meant more to her coming from an older woman.

  “Seriously, though,” Debbie said. “Think about it. I’d definitely consider being your first associate if you do it.”

  Rachel thanked her again and promised Debbie she’d let her know if she decided to go that route. Debbie then went into an empty stall while Rachel exited the restroom. Checking her watch, she knew she’d have just enough time to make it from this part of Carlsbad over to where La Vida Mocha was.

  As she drove, she replayed her conversation with Debbie.

  My own brokerage…

  Originally, back when she was a brand-new agent like Debbie, Rachel had hoped to be able to be an independent agent by the time she was thirty-two. But with her success over the past year, could she possibly move that timeline up?

  Not only did she have the proper licenses, but she had a really robust list of leads and clients now and it seemed like every time she sold a house, she was recommended to potential new clients. What’s more, because of her popularity with doctors, most of her clients nowadays were high earners, able to buy expensive properties. And, Rachel was learning, doctors tend to have high-earning friends even outside of the medical field. The house she sold in Del Mar yesterday for $2.2 million, for instance, was to a woman who was a lawyer for the San Diego Padres but who had been referred to Rachel by one of her doctor clients.

  The point was, not only was Rachel quite busy but her income had soared over the past year, which also allowed her to grow her personal savings.

  The more she thought about it as she drove to La Vida Mocha, the more she was certain that she could go it alone now.

  She wouldn’t rush into anything, though. She’d do some research first in order to discover exactly how to go about doing this but she considered that it wasn’t beyond the pale to imagine having her own brokerage by the year’s end, at the latest.

  ***

  Her phone chirped with a text message from Ainsley just as she was about to walk into La Vida Mocha.

  At the title company. Guy just brought in a mountain of papers! I’m feeling like I’m about to sign my life away!

  Rachel chuckled. Buying a house did feel that way, considering the number of documents one needed to sign. She remembered the experience of buying her current home and being intimidated at the sheer volume of paperwork.

  LOL! she tapped out in response. Watch out for the one about selling your soul to the devil! They sometimes slip that in there.

  Thanks for the warning! Will you be completely free by the time I’m done?

  Probably not. But I’m just at LVM with Amy. Why don’t you plan on meeting us here?

  Podcast Amy? I want to meet her! But first…LVM?

  Rachel smiled.

  LOL! LVM=La Vida Mocha. You need to start learning the local lingo if you’re moving here! EVERY lesbian in C-bad knows what LVM stands for!

  “Who were you texting so intently?” Amy asked after they embraced. “I was watching you through the window.”

  Rachel blushed.

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about,” she said. “But first, coffee!”

  “My turn to buy,” Amy reminded her.

  “Hey, you two! I haven’t seen you two together in here for a while.”

  The greeting came from Vanessa, the owner of La Vida Mocha. After the events of the past few days, Rachel was suddenly assessing the woman in a whole new light. Like Ainsley, Vanessa was almost supernaturally beautiful but with jet black hair instead of blonde. Also, like Ainsley, Vanessa’s body was almost too good to believe. She wasn’t as tall as Ainsley but she was incredibly fit, and the curves she possessed…

  Rachel had to shake her head a bit to pull her mind out of the rabbit hole of daydreams she was starting to fall into. It was unbelievable, really. She had been to this coffeeshop countless times; encountered Vanessa countless times, yet never spared the woman a second thought—well, except beyond wishing she had Vanessa’s cheekbones. And, for that matter, Vanessa’s long and tapered fingers. Not to mention Vanessa’s incredible eyelashes. And, if she was being totally honest with herself, she had, on occasion, been envious of Vanessa’s at-least-one-cup-size larger breasts.

  But other than that, Rachel hadn’t spared the woman a thought.

  Yet now, Rachel was considering that if Vanessa offered her more than coffee…

  “Rach!” Amy nudged her. “Your order?”

  “Oh, sorry!” she said to Vanessa, blushing. “I was a million miles away. Um…caramel latte, please.”

  The two women returned to their table.

  “Okay,” Amy began, “so who’s the guy who so obviously has you in a tizzy? Blech, by the way. Oh, hey! You cut your nails!”

  Rachel swallowed. She knew she could trust Amy with her revelation but it just occurred to her that this was going to be the first time she told anyone.

  “There’s no guy,” Rachel said, holding Amy’s brown eyes with her own.

  “Oh!” Amy said, her face registering surprise.

  “Aims…I’ve been having sex with a woman.”

  If Rachel thought Amy looked surprised a moment ago, then she didn’t know what to call this expression. Shock, was probably the closest. Amy’s mouth was opened as far as humanly possible and the same could be said for her eyes.

  “An actual, real-life woman?” Amy whispered.

  Rachel nodded.

  “Trust me,” she said, “she’s very real.”

  “Oh my god! What…How…?”

  They were interrupted when Vanessa herself delivered their coffees, Rachel feeling a little intoxicated when she caught a whiff of Vanessa’s perfume. Fortunately, Vanessa didn’t linger.

  Amy suddenly gasped.

  “Wait! Was it that woman you went out with on Valentine’s Day?”

  “Ainsley,” Rachel said, unable to help the smile which came to her face when she said the name. “We had s
ex that night.”

  Amy playfully smacked Rachel’s arm.

  “Holy fuck, Rach! This is incredible! But wait! What’s Ainsley like? All Sally ever told me was that they had drinks together that one time.”

  “She’s amazing!” Rachel enthused after sipping her coffee. “Aims, she’s…amazing! You’re going to meet her because I told her to meet me here.”

  “Good!” Amy stated. “I want to meet this woman who dared go on a blind date with my Sally! I wonder how many times I can say ‘my Sally’ once Ainsley gets here?”

  Rachel laughed.

  “Oh, stop!”

  “So what is going on, Rach? How did this happen?”

  Rachel started at the beginning—the house showing—and what the effect was on her when she first laid eyes on Ainsley and how that attraction to the other woman just kept growing.

  “Aims, I didn’t understand it,” Rachel said. “I mean…I wanted her! But at the same time, I was totally loving how she and I were becoming friends.”

  “So, she’s cool?”

  Rachel nodded.

  “She is super cool! Like, if you met her, you wouldn’t know that she’s actually one of the top surgeons in this part of California. I Googled her! She’s, like, a big deal! Oh, and her dad happens to be Hank Janowicz.”

  “The DA?” Amy exclaimed.

  Rachel nodded.

  “But she’s so fucking down to earth.”

  “Okay, okay,” Amy said, leaning forward over the table. “Get to the good stuff. Valentine’s Day!”

  It felt weird because she and Amy never shared details about their sexual exploits. Usually it was nothing more than “I got laid last night” or “Spent the weekend having sex.” But Rachel was determined to ignore the weirdness this time and tell Amy as much as she wanted to hear.

  Which apparently was everything. Rachel started off sparing no details and Amy didn’t stop her. It wasn’t lesfic detail, fine, but it was certainly more than Rachel was used to sharing with another human being about her carnal activities.

  When she was done, Amy asked, “So…you liked it?”

  Liked?

  “Aims, I loved it! If I wasn’t sitting here with you, I’d be having sex with her right now.”

  “Oh my god!” Amy squealed. “So what does this mean?”

  Rachel knew what the question meant. Was she gay? Was she bi? Was she something in between or not yet invented?

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. But she really wanted Amy’s insight. “On the one hand, I never thought about having sex with a woman until I met Ainsley. Now, all I want to do is have sex with Ainsley. But it’s not that simple, either.” She lowered her voice and glanced over to her left, towards the ordering counter. “I mean, all of a sudden I’m realizing that I wouldn’t turn Vanessa down.”

  Amy scoffed.

  “That doesn’t count.” she said. “Vanessa is not of this world. She can turn any woman.”

  Amy looked around the coffeeshop.

  “What about her?” she said, tilting her chin toward a table against the east wall. A pretty young woman with honey-colored hair was working on a laptop.

  That Rachel found her pretty was nothing earth-shattering. Rachel had never had a problem recognizing when a woman was pretty—and had never felt gay for doing so. In her mind, that’s just the way women are—unafraid to acknowledge attractiveness within their own ranks. Unlike straight guys who wouldn’t dare call another man handsome unless you put a gun to their heads.

  But now, Rachel was realizing that she was now wondering what kind of kisser the woman was and what did her lips taste like; she was feeling a frisson of excitement at the idea of lifting the woman’s t-shirt to reveal what kind of bra she was wearing beneath it; she was remembering the erotic thrill of unclasping Ainsley’s bra in the limo on Valentine’s Day and revealing her breasts for that very first time, and she was feeling a similar thrill imagining doing the same to this woman in the coffeeshop.

  The woman was wearing shorts and Rachel eyes glued themselves to her tanned thighs and she bit her lip at the idea of licking both of them from her kneecaps all the way up to the prize at the apex.

  She heaved a deep sigh.

  Turning back to Amy, she said, “Fine; I wouldn’t turn her down either.”

  “This is exciting!” Amy said, practically buzzing with some form of energy which had evidently been created by Rachel’s admission. “Can I tell Sally?” she asked.

  Rachel shrugged.

  “Why not? I trust her. Besides…”

  “Besides?”

  Rachel took a moment to compose her thoughts. Eventually, she said, “Even if things don’t work out between me and Ainsley…” She paused when a stab of pain shot through her heart at such a scenario. “I think that instead of running back to men, I might want to explore relationships with other women.”

  “Oh my god, that’s awesome!” Amy gushed.

  And Rachel smiled because she was thinking that, yes, it was awesome.

  ***

  About half an hour later, Rachel got a notification on her phone.

  “Ooh! She’s here!” she told Amy. “She just parked.”

  “Get a load of you, all excited all of a sudden,” Amy teased.

  Rachel blushed.

  “Shut up; I am not!”

  But she was. By this point in the day, she was more than ready to see Ainsley again.

  A moment later, the woman herself walked in, took a quick look around and located Rachel.

  Rachel stood to give her a hug and a quick kiss hello.

  “Oh thank goodness that’s over!” Ainsley said. “So many papers!” She turned to Amy, who was still sitting. “Hi, I’m Ainsley!” she greeted with that unbelievable smile, sticking out her hand.

  “Um…hi. I’m…Amy.”

  They shook hands.

  “Oh, I know,” Ainsley said. “I’m actually a huge fan of your podcast!”

  “Wow! Thanks. That…um…means so much to me!”

  “It is such an honor to meet you!” Ainsley went on. “Oh, by the way, please say hi to Sally for me! Our mothers work together.”

  Amy smiled and it would have taken someone who knew her as well as Rachel did to recognize how fake it was.

  “I will,” she said. “I’m sure Sally will love that you thought of her.”

  Turning back to Rachel, Ainsley then said, “This is such a cute place! Do they sell iced tea here? Because I’m dying for an iced tea.”

  After Rachel assured her that she could get her iced tea fix taken care of, Ainsley, with another winning smile at Amy, excused herself to go to the ordering counter.

  When Rachel sat back down, Amy leaned over the table.

  “That’s Ainsley?” she hissed.

  Rachel blinked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “She’s, like…” Amy seemed to be struggling to find the right words, which Rachel knew was unusual for her. “For Christ’s sake, she’s the blonde Vanessa!”

  Rachel couldn’t help herself.

  “Yep. Just think, Sally actually went on a blind date with her…and yet she still chose you.”

  Amy gasped.

  “Oh my god, shut up!” she squeaked, reaching across the small table and smacking her bestie on the shoulder.

  “Relax, I’m kidding, you know that.”

  “Argh!” Amy groaned. “I’m going home now to give Sally the best sex of her life so she remembers why she’s with me.”

  “You can’t leave now!” Rachel exclaimed. “Ainsley will be back in a second and she’s already said hello to you. It would be rude.”

  “It would be ruder if I plunge a knife in her heart,” Amy grumbled, crossing her arms. “Oh, and if she thinks I’m telling Sally she said hi, she’s out of her mind. I’m telling Sally that Miss Perfect Ainsley moved to New Zealand.” She suddenly leaned forward. “Is she good in bed?”

  Rachel blinked. Minutes earlier she had confessed to Amy that she loved having sex w
ith Ainsley but the way Amy had phrased this question made Rachel realize that she didn’t have a basis for comparison. What did master-level lesbians such as Amy consider “good in bed?”

  “Um…” she began. “Well…last night I got pretty dizzy at one point.”

  All the color drained from Amy’s face.

  “Argh!” she groaned through clenched teeth. “She made you dizzy? And now she lives in town where Sally could bump into her at the grocery store or on the fucking street?”

  “Would you relax?” Rachel insisted. “Ainsley is not a woman-stealer.”

  “Well, we’re not going to find out because I’ve decided Sally and I are going to be the ones moving to New Zealand.”

  Rachel tapped Amy’s forearm.

  “Psst! Look!” And she gestured with her head, making Amy turn to look where she indicated.

  At the ordering counter, Ainsley was chatting with Vanessa and presumably having a good time of it. The two women were laughing about something and Rachel had to admit it made quite a sexy tableau: the unbelievably gorgeous dark-haired Vanessa—today wearing a skintight yoga crop top which was practically painted on her round breasts; in close proximity with the unbelievably gorgeous golden-haired Ainsley—today wearing her own boob-hugging top: a pink tank with lace-trimmed straps.

  Amy groaned and Rachel thought she looked like she was about to faint.

  “Oh my god!” Amy said. “That is a lesbian wet dream!” She looked away, took a sip of her coffee and then started chanting with her eyes closed, “I’m with Sally! I’m with Sally! I’m with Sally! I’m with Sally!”

  But when Amy opened her eyes again, they immediately went back the scene of Vanessa and Ainsley chatting. Amy groaned again.

  Rachel laughed and then laughed harder when she caught sight of two thirty-something women at another table who were staring open-mouthed at the Ainsley-Vanessa pairing as if they were witnessing a miracle. One of them, with a bold stripe of blue in her otherwise black hair, was even fanning herself with a napkin.