“I take it you’ve met Sarah’s father?”
“Oh yes. Peter Young. Hearing him say something nice about anybody is as scarce as hen’s teeth. That man is smug and pretentious.” Madeline’s headshake was full of condemnation. “New money,” she hissed.
Joss quietly chuckled. Now who’s being pretentious.
“But Linda says Sarah is nothing like him, and thank the good Lord for that.”
Yes, Joss thought. Thank God. She popped a cup under the Keurig machine, peeking through the oven door as she waited for her mug to fill. She knew the inevitable was coming and decided to head her mother off at the pass. “All right, go ahead and ask me a million questions about how things are going with Sarah.”
“What makes you think I have a million questions?”
“Because you look like you’re going to burst.”
“I don’t really need to ask you anything. I can already see she’s had a positive influence on you. Your hair, the color in your cheeks, the fact that you’re noticing art now. I’m pleased, Joss. I’m also pleased you’ve finally accepted that my idea—and my finding Sarah—was genius.”
Joss frowned more deeply than was justified. She didn’t like to admit her mother was right. “Let’s not go that far, Mama.”
“Don’t tell me she isn’t doing a wonderful job escorting you to your functions. Two now, right? And the third later this week?” Madeline’s voice, her smile, dripped with self-satisfaction.
All right, Joss thought, fine, she’d eat some crow, but only a little. “Okay, okay. You win. Sarah’s been a hit so far. She’s charming, pretty, bright, fun.” And a great kisser, but she wasn’t about to admit that to anyone, least of all her mother.
“When can I meet her?”
“No way, forget it. You’ve done enough already.”
Madeline folded her arms across her chest and pouted. “If you won’t bring her around, your old mother has a few tricks up her sleeve, you know.”
Joss rolled her eyes. “I swear you’re trying to kill me, Mama.”
Madeline threw her head back and laughed. “Now why would I do that after going through all the trouble of giving birth to you, my dear? C’mon, let’s eat.”
Chapter Eight
Sarah expertly applied soft strokes of blue and pink eye shadow, the ritual of applying makeup briefly keeping her nervousness at bay. She hadn’t been uptight about the other events she’d attended with Joss, but tonight she was. And she shouldn’t be, she told herself. It was a reception for other gay doctors, nurses, medical students. If anything, she should be in her element. But no. That damned kiss continued to haunt her thoughts, giving her a little twinge in the pit of her stomach, keeping her off balance.
Joss had apologized immediately afterward, making it clear she thought the kiss was a mistake, but there were no regrets for Sarah. In the moment, at least, she’d wanted to kiss Joss. Wanted to gauge what she felt sure was mutual attraction, and there it was—all the simmering heat and raging fire of their anger, their flirting and the volatility of their sexual chemistry too—in that one passionate kiss. Their physical attraction to one another was undeniable. And completely off limits, which totally sucked, because Sarah genuinely liked Joss. They had fun together, they could talk to one another—even if they sometimes pushed the wrong buttons and ended up in a verbal duel. But more than all the physical reactions, Joss stirred something deep inside Sarah—the part of her that longed for someone with whom she could enjoy mutual support, loyalty and companionship. The part inside her that wanted the give and take, the rewards and sacrifices, of a life with someone else. She wanted, in short, all the things she never got at home while growing up. Joss was the first person in a long time who reminded her of exactly what she was missing in her life.
“Damn it,” Sarah whispered to herself.
“You okay?” Lauren appeared at the open bathroom door.
“Yes, fine, thanks.” Other than feeling sorry for myself.
Lauren whistled. “Wow, you look smashing. Hope your sugar mama appreciates it.”
Sarah smoothed the dress along her sides; it was the dress Joss bought her a week ago. “Stop calling her that.” Sarah turned, checked her reflection in the mirror. “She’s my…Oh fuck, I don’t know what she is.”
“How about your hot doctor friend? Will that do?”
“Yes, that’ll do, I suppose.”
It was unsettling for Sarah to realize she was more comfortable in the company of Joss’s colleagues, who believed they were lovers, than she was with Lauren, who knew the truth. The arrangement might be fooling Joss’s friends and workmates, but it was a complete lie, and Lauren’s constant teasing was like a slap in the face, reminding Sarah that without this special arrangement, she and Joss would never be together. The hard truth was that Joss was completely out of Sarah’s league. She was at home in the insular world of medicine and medical professionals, science, higher education, antebellum mansions, BMWs and people dripping with money. She was independently wealthy, respected, had a father she idolized and a mother she was actually friends with. Joss didn’t need Sarah in her life, save for the decoration Sarah provided on her arm, and the thought sent a rush of despair through her.
“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” Lauren said.
“What?”
“When I call her your sugar mama. I’m only kidding around, you know. No harm intended, okay?”
Sarah couldn’t admit to Lauren that there were moments like this when the charade she was leading with Joss made her feel pretty damned worthless. She didn’t belong with Joss or her people. She was nothing but an actor in their presence. An imposter. “I know. It’s fine, I just…I don’t know what the hell to call her. Us. Or what we’re doing.”
“Sarah, promise me you’re not second-guessing yourself about this. I totally get why you’re doing it. And I don’t think any less of you for doing it.”
Sarah set her makeup down on the counter and was ridiculously grateful for the understanding of the friend she’d known since they were kids. College had separated them for a few years, but since they began rooming together back in Nashville three years ago, it was as though they were the same Sarah and Lauren who had once skipped classes together, double-dated, bitched to one another about family, borrowed money and clothes from one another, cried on each another’s shoulders. She didn’t have to pretend with Lauren, and that, she realized, was worth far more than the act she put on with a bunch of pretentious overachieving social climbers.
Her voice thick with emotion, Sarah said, “Thanks for saying that. But sometimes I burn up with the feeling that there’s something cheap and dirty about all this.” Not to mention completely disingenuous.
“It’s not like you’re a prostitute, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“High-priced call girl without the sex would be more accurate.”
“Look, Sarah, remember that you’re doing this so you can keep your dream alive. And it’s not like Joss is a bitch or treats you badly, right?”
“No, she’s great.”
“And this is helping her too. Remember that.”
Sarah sighed, leaned back against the bathroom counter. Joss’s earlier accusation repeated in her mind—that perhaps she didn’t truly believe in herself. She’d reacted with anger, had become supremely defensive and indignant, but now she wondered if there wasn’t a kernel of truth to it. “I know, it’s just…”
“Stop it.” Lauren said. “Just go with this. It’s not hurting anybody. And at least it’s better than taking money from your father.”
That part was true at least. She gave herself one last appraising look in the mirror and tried to raise a smile that looked believable.
* * *
When Sarah walked into the ballroom, Joss began to tingle all over, every sense on high alert. It was always this way around Sarah. First there was the hyperalertness, then a calming sensation that was both relief and a feeling of gladness, followed closely by an int
ernal frenzy that showered a thousand thoughts through her mind and shot an overabundance of adrenaline through her veins. Her physical reaction to Sarah astonished and alarmed her. What lay behind it, she couldn’t begin to guess, and frankly, she didn’t want to examine it too closely.
“Hello, Joss,” Sarah said, her smile radiating intimate familiarity. She kissed Joss’s cheek and whispered, “Your new suit looks wonderful.”
“Thanks.” Joss breathed her in—faint jasmine, perhaps a hint of geranium—and let Sarah’s scent fill her senses, her lungs, paralyzing her. Her voice came out muffled, as though she were a little high. “You look great, Sarah. That dress…”
“Thanks to you.”
“No. You’re the one that makes it look so good.”
Sarah looked into her eyes for a long, questioning moment, and Joss wanted to whisk her to a quiet corner where they could talk. But others were suddenly upon them, an intrusion in Joss’s mind, but she went with the flow of bodies and conversation even while thoughts of being alone with Sarah crowded out nearly everything else. They needed to talk about that damned kiss before it became so big they wouldn’t be able to get out from under it.
“So the rumors are true.” Nancy Connelly clinked champagne flutes with Joss, then raked an approving gaze over Sarah, who had moved to the next group over to mingle. “She’s stunning, Joss. And I’m thrilled for you.”
If any of this were real, Joss realized, she’d be beaming with pride and happiness. Instead she dipped her head in shame. She and Nancy, a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon at the hospital, went back several years. Nancy had been patient and kind with Joss during her cocky resident years, and they’d become lasting friends. But Joss hadn’t told her the truth about Sarah—or anything about Sarah—even though the hospital’s rumor mill had already picked up on the relationship, something that was regarded as surprising—no, shocking—for the perpetually single and very guarded Joss McNab.
“Nancy, wait, there’s—”
“Oh, Joss honey, is that your girlfriend?” Jayme Lopez, Nancy’s partner of a decade, linked her arms through Joss’s and Nancy’s. She bounced up and down on her stilettos. “Let’s go get acquainted. I’m dying to meet her.”
Joss silently begged for a way out, but there was none. She hated lying to her two best friends—well, a lie of omission anyway—but now clearly wasn’t the time to break it to them that Sarah was… What, exactly? How to categorize their relationship continued to puzzle her. Her mother’s words surfaced in her mind: Your wife. Except she’s my paid wife, Joss amended. And she knew how that would go over at the hospital. Joss McNab is such a loser she has to pay someone to pretend to be her date.
Nancy and Jayme showed no hesitation in barging right up to Sarah and introducing themselves, Joss tagging behind, her embarrassment making her wish the floor would swallow her up. Her friends peppered Sarah with questions that she either patiently answered or carefully deflected. Without missing a beat, they invited her and Joss over for dinner.
“We’re free next Saturday,” Jayme said in a voice pitched with excitement. “Please say yes. We’d love to get to know you better, Sarah.”
Joss quietly panicked inside, wondering how she was going to extract them from that thorny situation. Or worse, how she and Sarah might endure it. But Jayme had just unknowingly offered Joss an out, and she jumped at it. “Sorry, we’ll have to decline. I have to present on TAVR at a conference in Chicago next weekend.”
“Oh, shoot,” Jayme said. “I forgot about that dang conference.” She turned laser-like brown eyes on Sarah, and Joss’s relief was short-lived. “We’ll just have to take Sarah on her own, then. What do you say, girl?”
“Um…” Sarah’s eyes darted to Joss in a plea for help.
“She’s coming with me,” Joss said, reflexively placing her arm around Sarah’s waist. The lies came like an avalanche now. “There’s something at the Art Institute there she wants to see. Isn’t that right, honey?”
“Ooh,” Nancy chimed in. “A romantic getaway. All right, that trumps dinner at our place anytime.”
Jesus, what the hell have I done! Minutes later, Joss picked at her food, but her appetite was lost in the knot that used to be her stomach. Her five-minute speech, something that normally gave her butterflies, didn’t even rate a single flutter this time. Instead, she sailed through it like an automaton, all the time wondering how she might conceivably backtrack her way out of the massive hole she’d dug for herself and Sarah. It wasn’t like her to be sloppy, to not have thought everything through to the finest detail, including how to break it to Nancy and Jayme that Sarah wasn’t really her girlfriend. But every time she was with Sarah, she got lost in her perfume, got lost in those flirtatious little glances that had long ago blurred the line between what was real and what was for show, got lost in the little touches that were far more gravitas than innocent, and she was most definitely getting lost in the exhilaration of being part of something that made her feel good. Slowly, she’d begun losing her grip on what was part of their agreement and what had strayed beyond it, and worse, she’d begun hoping, wishing for things to go beyond their agreement.
A string quartet had couples jamming the dance floor, dancing to ballad after ballad. There were few times on campus where gays and lesbians could rule the dance floor in such a romantic fashion. Joss’s first escape was to the washroom, her second to the bar. Sarah, however, wasn’t easily dissuaded. She crooked her finger and beckoned Joss to the dance floor.
“People are going to talk if we don’t dance,” Sarah whispered, placing her right hand into Joss’s left and stepping toward her.
She was probably right, Joss thought, but Sarah seemed to be enjoying the awkwardness of the situation a little too much. It took half the song before Joss relaxed her hold on Sarah enough to move in slow syncopation with her and to allow herself to yield to the softness of Sarah against her. She hadn’t held a woman like this, not without sex being involved, in… She couldn’t remember when, but it had been many years—back to a simpler, deluded time when she thought she could actually have both a girlfriend and a demanding career.
Sarah shifted slightly in her arms so she could catch her eyes. “That was some quick thinking earlier. About Chicago.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to draw you into my lie so easily. It was all I could think of to get you out of dinner plans with Nancy and Jayme. Don’t get me wrong, I love them to death, but it would be an inquisition I’m not sure you’d enjoy.”
“Actually.” Sarah laughed softly, her breath a warm flutter against Joss’s neck. It sent a pleasurable shiver up her spine. “I thought it was brilliant. And in fact there actually is an exhibit I want to see at the institute. When do we leave?”
“What?”
“Chicago. Which day do we leave, because I teach half days on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”
Joss stumbled, then strengthened her hold on Sarah so they wouldn’t trip. It was incredible how easily Sarah could transform her into an uncoordinated, incoherent, blubbering fool, something that would surprise absolutely everyone but her mother. Thank God my patients never get a glimpse of me like this.
“Whoa,” Sarah said. “Not having second thoughts, are you?”
“Second thoughts? I haven’t even gotten to the first thought yet. I didn’t mean for you to actually go to Chicago with me.”
“I suppose your colleagues might think you’re pretty serious about me if I go. On the other hand, if I don’t go, the rumor mill will go roaring off into an entirely different direction.”
Joss’s head spun. “So if we go to Chicago together, people will think we’re practically engaged. If we don’t, they’ll think we’re breaking up. Jesus. This is more complicated than a soap opera. Is dating always this byzantine?”
Sarah laughed, her eyes twinkling with the kind of mischief and revelry that Joss envied. And adored. Risk averse by nature, she was not intimately familiar with these qualities. She thrived on routines and p
lans and preparation, which made her a very good surgeon but not an especially fun or spontaneous person.
“Yes and no. But know this. Sometimes planning is overrated, you know.” She lowered her voice to a flirtatious octave. “Being spontaneous has its own rewards.”
“Not in my world.”
“No, you’re probably right. In my world, however, there’s a lot of instinct and feeling involved. I can start painting an object a certain way, then once I get into it, it can take on a whole different life of its own. One I hadn’t considered. It becomes something I hadn’t planned at all, but it can turn out spectacularly.”
“I’m not so good at all that touchy-feely-artsy-spontaneous stuff. Spectacular endings or not.”
Sarah shrugged lightly, her eyes full of the devil. “That’s all right. I’m not so good at heart surgery. Spectacular results or not.”
Joss laughed and twirled Sarah around. “You make me laugh, Sarah Young.”
“Good. Take me to Chicago and I’ll make you laugh some more.”
Her comfort zone was about a thousand miles behind her, but Joss found herself agreeing to the idea. She had fun with Sarah. With her she saw the world differently than she did from the more familiar environs of hospitals and diseases. She imagined that being with Sarah was like being on the moon looking back at Earth, rather than being on Earth and gazing at the moon. Less grounded, maybe even a little scary, but far more interesting.
One thought refused to leave her mind. Could she spend three days with Sarah and not want to kiss her again?
Chapter Nine
By Mutual Consent Page 7
