She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the shelves and opened a crate. She arranged the small portion of her library she’d brought with her alphabetically by title, filling the bottom section with her self-help category and the next level with her Bestsellers-I-Never-Got-To collection. She leafed through each book as she pondered what would be most beneficial to read first—fiction to relax or psychology to help her mind start looking inward. She reached for another. Her fingers grazed a paper bag. Anxiety gripped her.
She’d forgotten about those, the purchases she’d made the one time she’d scraped together enough courage to go to A Different Light, the gay and lesbian bookstore in West Hollywood. She’d worn sunglasses and a hat and had avoided eye contact with everyone she passed. The one woman who’d smiled at her and said hello had sent her in terrified retreat to the cash register. She’d picked out five books. That should be plenty, she’d reasoned.
But she’d never looked at them once she’d gotten them home. She’d always been too worried that Jeremy would catch her, that the boys would walk in. She didn’t even remember what she’d bought. She opened the bag and peeked inside.
Her stomach tightened. Her shoulders tensed. She felt as paranoid as the time she’d sneaked a cigarette in the garage when she was ten. What if someone sees? What if they tell?
Tell who? Scanning the room, she realized how silly she was being. She reached into the sack and retrieved the books.
From Wedded Wife to Lesbian Life. She remembered finding this one and being amazed that there was an entire book on the subject. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one to whom this had happened. Maybe she should read that one first. She set it aside.
Lesbian Couples. She glanced through the pages. She wasn’t in a couple yet—not with a woman—nor was she even sure she ever would be. She placed that one beside the other.
Lesbian Sex—the words leapt off the hot pink cover. Eve’s mouth dropped open. She found it difficult to believe that she’d ever conjured the nerve even to take this book off the shelf, what’s more carry it to the register and pay for it. Slowly, she opened it. She perused the contents: “This Is Your Life—Where We Start,” “You Don’t Have to Know Latin to Know Your Body,” “Barriers to Sexuality.” It seemed basic enough. She continued. “Physiology.” “What We Do In Bed.” “Fantasies.” Her gaze halted. She tensed. She’d had fantasies and had often wondered if they were normal. Arousal fluttered in her abdomen. She tried to go on, but she couldn’t coax her eyes to function.
“Knock, knock.” Dusty’s voice resonated within the walls of the room.
Eve jumped. A scream fled her throat. The book flipped from her grasp and landed on the floor beside her.
“Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to bring you these.” Dusty held something out to her. “We must have dropped them out of one of the boxes.”
But all Eve could see was that bright pink book cover against the powder blue carpet, like a neon sign flashing lesbian sex, Lesbian Sex, LESBIAN SEX. Her heart pounded.
“You okay? You’re really pale.”
“Yes.” Eve cleared her throat. “I’m fine.” She forced her gaze to the object Dusty held. A pair of her red silk panties dangled from Dusty’s fingers. Oh, God, can this moment get any more humiliating? “Thank you.” Her voice squeaked. She snatched the undergarment from Dusty. Maybe she would leave now and never even notice the book.
“Lesbian Sex?” Dusty read aloud. “Who needs a book on that?” She laughed and reached for the paperback.
Eve grabbed it and sprang to her feet. The sudden movement caused what little blood remained in her face to flood to her toes. Her vision darkened, and she swayed. She felt arms around her, holding her, supporting her. She teetered into a body—God, not Dusty’s.
“Easy. I got you.” Dusty’s lips spoke close to Eve’s ear. “Come over to the bed.”
Eve let Dusty guide her, steady her, for no other reason than she had little choice. Her feet stumbled. Her head swirled.
Dusty eased her down onto the mattress and gently laid her back.
Eve’s vision began to clear.
Dusty leaned over her. “You all right?”
Eve stared up into those fiery eyes, those self-assured features. “I must have lost my equilibrium.” Oh, God, I’m doing it again.
“You’re what?”
“I mean, my balance.” Eve brushed a hand over her face. “I think I stood up too fast.”
“Oh, yeah? I thought maybe this got you too excited.” Dusty giggled and fanned Eve with the book.
Eve’s temper flared. Her cheeks flamed. She jerked the paperback from Dusty’s hand. “Thank you for your help.” She clenched her jaw. “I’m fine now.”
Dusty stood and retreated a pace. “Okay, sorry.” She raised her hands and edged toward the door. “Jeez, everybody’s so touchy these days.” She walked out, still grumbling under her breath about grouchy people.
Eve buried her face in the pillow and groaned. If she’d ever been as embarrassed as she was right at that moment, she couldn’t recall it. How could she be so stupid, so immature? Sex was sex, wasn’t it? Why had she allowed this ridiculous book and Dusty Gardner to transform her into a moron?
She sat up and glanced at the cover. Maybe it was because she’d refused to consider sex with a woman for so long, keeping the thought far from her consciousness except on those occasions when a fantasy would sneak its way into her daydreams. Maybe she’d made it too much of a taboo for herself, so now that she wanted to think about it, examine it, she had to overcome all of that.
That was it. She just had to jump in and do it—read about it, think about it, give herself permission to be curious about it.
What about Dusty, though? How did she play into all this? Surely Eve wasn’t attracted to her. She’d never been attracted to a woman like her—never even known a woman like her. The women Eve had been drawn to in the past were soft, gentle. She paused.
The sensation of Dusty’s arms around her skittered across her flesh. The sound of her reassuring words caressed Eve’s ear. Dusty had been gentle, but that was only a moment. In general, there was nothing gentle about her, and there was no point in thinking about her. Whatever Eve felt when Dusty was around would pass as soon as she’d developed a better understanding of herself.
With that, she picked up the book again and stared at the cover. She began saying the title over and over again in her mind. The more she said it, the more familiar she knew it would become and the more comfortable she’d be with both the words and the concept. She was here for a purpose. If she was going to figure out who she was and what she wanted, she might as well start now.
Chapter Seven
The Wednesday afternoon staff meeting at the Milton and Ryan ad agency ran long. By the time Addison got back to her office, the late-day sun reflected off the silver picture frame on her desk, its radiance not quite rivaling Maggie’s smile. The past few days had been wonderful. Since their time together over the weekend, talking, laughing, making love, they seemed to have rediscovered the feelings that’d brought them together and kept them together for so long.
Addison’s restlessness, her discontent, seemed to be settling. She’d been more focused at work, more attentive at home. She knew where she belonged. She knew she loved Maggie. She knew how to show it, and she intended to do so.
She glanced at her watch. She’d thought the meeting would break up in time to get some flowers ordered. Maybe it wasn’t too late to get them delivered before Maggie left for her evening plans with Carolyn.
Addison grabbed the phone and flipped through her rolodex. “L” for Lavender Rose—she used to know the number by heart. She frowned and punched the buttons on the receiver. She listened to the rings on the other end of the line.
“Good afternoon. Lavender Rose,” a soft, familiar voice said. “This is Monica. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Monica, this is Addison Rae-McInnis—”
�
�Well, hello. We haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“Yeah, I know,” Addison said with a chuckle tinged with a combination of guilt and embarrassment. “I’ve been neglectful. But I’m turning over a new leaf.”
Monica laughed. “Then I’ll assume your order is going to Maggie?”
“My one and only.”
“Same address?”
“Oh, yeah, Maggie would never give up that house.”
“And one half-dozen Sonya roses.” Monica drew out her words the way she did when she was writing.
Addison shifted her weight. Was it good or bad that her florist knew her order before she said it? “What can I say? They’re her favorite, and she’s definitely a creature of habit,” she said, feeling the need to explain.
“What would you like the card to say?”
“Hmm, let’s see.” Addison picked up the picture of Maggie and herself and studied it. She thought of the past few days, then the last twelve years. She smiled. “Because you make my life so beautiful. I love you. Just sign it ‘A.’”
“All rightie,” Monica said with the abruptness of someone who’d heard every sentiment anyone could possibly think of many times before. “I’ll try to get this to her today, but it’s kind of late.”
“Yeah, I know. I meant to get the order in earlier, but the day got away from me.”
“I know how that goes. Hey, are you and Maggie having your Halloween party again this year?”
“Of course. If there’re two things you can count on in this world they’re our Halloween party and our Christmas party.”
“Great. I’m seeing someone new. I want everybody to meet her.”
“Bring her along.”
“I plan to win that costume contest this year, too. I’m on a search for the perfect outfit. Any idea what Dusty has in that twisted little mind of hers?”
“Not a clue.” Addison chuckled, remembering the previous year when Dusty had trotted downstairs in nothing but a strip of duct tape over her mouth and a nightshirt that read Strong enough for a man—but made for a woman on the front. Everyone had to wait until the unmasking at midnight to find out that she’d come as a Secret, a play on the deodorant by the same name with the same tagline. They all agreed, though, that it’d been the quietest evening anyone had ever spent with Dusty.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Monica said. “For now, let me get going on this order for your lady and see if I can get it delivered today.”
“Thanks. And we’ll be sending out info on the party next week. You have a nice evening.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
Addison hung up the phone, still smiling at the thought of Dusty with her mouth taped shut. It’d been an historical event, especially when Tess, dressed as a beautiful Greek nymph, had discovered the fun of tickling Dusty’s neck with her shaft of wheat. Dusty had been as vulnerable and helpless as anyone had ever seen her.
The soft chime of the intercom on the desk brought Addison back to the moment, and she pressed the button to answer it. “Yes, Peggy?” she said, a leftover chuckle sneaking into her voice.
“There’s a call for you on line one,” the receptionist announced with the utmost efficiency. “Victoria Fontaine.”
The name registered with a flash of Victoria’s image in Addison’s mind. She frowned. She’d only half-finished the list of potential advertisement options she’d promised Michael’s client. “Okay, thanks.” She disconnected from the in-house line and picked up the receiver. She pressed the flashing button on the phone. “Hello, Victoria. How was your trip up north?”
“It was great. They’re doing just fine without me.” Victoria’s response was light. “A little too fine, I think,” she added with a laugh.
“That’s the problem with us indispensable types—the rest of the world doesn’t always recognize who we are.” She opened a drawer and rummaged through the contents in search of the file she’d started for Victoria. “What can I do for you this afternoon?”
“I was hoping we could get together and go out like we talked about last Saturday. I know I was supposed to call earlier in the week, but things have just been so hectic.”
Addison paused. “Oh.” Relieved, she closed the drawer. “Sure. I just thought since I didn’t hear from you Monday you’d changed your mind.”
“No, not at all. In fact, I could really use some fun. I can’t even remember the last time I went out that wasn’t work related. When would be good for you and…Maggie, was it?”
“Uh, yes, Maggie. Any night this week would be fine. Except tonight. Maggie has other plans.”
A pause hovered on the other end of the line. “Oh,” Victoria said finally, a twinge of disappointment in her voice. “Tonight’s the only night I can make it until next Wednesday. The rest of the week is booked. Then I head back up to the Bay Area for a few days.”
“How about when you get back?” Addison flipped through the pages of her desk calendar.
“I guess that’ll have to do. I was hoping to get out tonight and relax a little, though. I could really use it.” Victoria sighed. “Hey, do you have plans? You said Maggie was busy.”
“Me? No. I don’t suppose I do.”
“Would Maggie object if you showed me some of the nightlife tonight? I mean, if you want to, of course.”
“Uh, well, sure.” Addison remembered her conversation with Maggie about Victoria. It wasn’t as though Maggie didn’t know she was just a client. “That’d probably be fine.”
“Great!” Victoria’s pitch rose with obvious excitement.
Addison smiled. She couldn’t recall the last time anyone had shown such eagerness to spend an evening with her. “What time are you free? I have some work to finish up here.”
“Me, too. Let’s see, maybe around seven? We can get some dinner, then you can show me around?”
“Sounds good. Can I pick you up?”
“Oh, that would be perfect. I’m staying at the San Vicente Inn in West Hollywood. Do you know where that is?”
“I’ve seen it. Isn’t it right off Santa Monica Boulevard?”
“That’s the place. I’m in room S, up at the front. Just ring the bell and I’ll be ready.” Victoria let out a giggle. “Oh, this is so wonderful. I can’t tell you how much I need this.”
Addison laughed. “Yeah, I can tell. I’ll see you later, then.”
“Okay. Bye for now.”
Addison heard another giggle before the line went dead. She chuckled and shook her head. If only it were this simple to make everyone in life so happy. She disconnected from the call and dialed her home number.
“Hello, you’ve reached the Rae-McInnis household.” Maggie’s voice answered on the fourth ring. “If you’ve a message for Addison, Maggie, Tess, or Eve, feel free to leave it at the tone. If you’re lookin’ for Dusty, join the club. You can leave a message, but there’s no tellin’ when she’ll be gettin’ it. Oh, and please, if you could let us know if you find her first, we’d be oh so appreciative.”
“Hey, Maggie, it’s me. Are you there?” Addison said after the beep. “Tess? Dusty? Eve? Anybody?”
No one answered.
“Okay, well, I was just calling to let you know I’m going to be taking a client out to dinner tonight, and I’ve still got quite a bit of work to finish here, so I think I’ll just stay at the office until it’s time to go.” She glanced down at her tan slacks and white oxford shirt. If it’s good enough for the office, it’s good enough for the bars. “I won’t be too late. I love you. Bye.” She hung up. She wondered if she should’ve mentioned the client was Victoria, and if she should have, why she hadn’t.
She pushed the thought aside and settled at her drafting table to start on some ideas for one of her accounts. As she worked, several people stuck their heads in her doorway and said good night, and little by little, the office fell silent. The time passed quickly, and when she next checked her watch, it was six fifteen. She took the canyon route through the hills and fo
und herself pulling up to the curb in front of the San Vicente Inn a few minutes before seven.
Addison rang the bell next to the S on a panel of buttons beside a locked gate. The grounds around the entrance were well kept, and a number of summer blossoms still bloomed in the flowerbeds.
Within seconds, a voice crackled from the speaker. “Hello? Addison, is that you?” Victoria asked. Her tone didn’t seem nearly as excited as it had earlier.
“Yeah, it’s me. You ready for a fun-filled night on the town?”
“Just a minute.”
Almost immediately, Addison heard a door open from behind the gate and a series of footsteps. The wrought iron panel swung open.
Victoria stood there wearing a terry cloth robe and a towel wrapped around her head. “I’m so sorry. I’m running late. Come in.”
Addison paused, glancing at Victoria’s attire. “I can wait in the car.” She gestured toward the street.
“Don’t be silly. I promise I’m harmless. Come in and relax.” Without waiting for a reply, Victoria retreated to the left and up several steps to the room at the very front of the building.
Addison followed and closed the door behind them. She really should wait outside. She knew that. Victoria was a client, not a buddy. And she was in a robe. Addison started to wonder about what it concealed, but caught herself. Knock it off. You’re not going there again.
The entrance led into a sitting area furnished with a short, taupe couch, a wicker chair with a cream-colored cushion, and a glass-topped coffee table. An archway to the right emptied into a second room that housed a queen-sized bed with a dark wood headboard. Several bottles of perfume, a jewelry case, and a haphazard array of magazines were strewn along the top of a matching dresser against the far wall. In the corner sat a television set. The hardwood floor shone with a high gloss.
“Wow, this is pretty nice,” Addison said. “It’s much homier than most hotels.”
“That’s one thing I like about it. I figured since I’d be living here for a while, I might as well stay someplace that feels comfortable.” Victoria scooped an open briefcase from the couch and set it on the floor. “Please sit down. I’m really sorry. I’m usually more punctual.”
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