Falling for Jillian Ashley: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

by Sabrina Kane

  “I can think of worse things,” Sally replied.

  “I’m crazy about you!” Amy couldn’t help saying then. “Like, super, out of this world crazy about you! I just wanted you to know that before we get on another possibly defective plane in…” she glanced at the countdown clock again “…twenty-eight minutes.”

  “Babe, I’m crazy about you too,” Sally said. “And I think this flight is going to go fine.”

  “If it doesn’t,” Amy began, “we’re sticking to boats, trains and cars. Maybe the occasional bicycle.”

  “I can’t bike all the way to Amsterdam!” Sally said.

  “We will use a combination of boats, trains and cars to get to Amsterdam; then we’ll use the bikes once we’re there,” Amy declared.

  “I like that you said ‘we will,’” Sally purred.

  Amy grinned.

  “I already told you: you’re not traveling anywhere without me, Miss Lassiter.”

  “And I love that.”

  “Good, because it’s not like you have a choice.”

  ***

  The flight went fine. The hexabolt thingamajigs kept the wings where they belonged and the loner dweeb who programmed the control software must have gotten laid because he had done a terrific job. With the exception of some minor turbulence—which Amy knew she wouldn’t have noticed normally but which this time made her and Sally clutch each other’s hands—the trip from Los Angeles to Seattle was smooth and uneventful.

  The relief Amy had felt the instant she felt the gentle bump of touchdown and heard the rubber-burning squeak of tires on tarmac had made her incredibly horny and once they had gotten to their room at the Marriott at nearly eleven-thirty that night, she had pounced on Sally and thus started another one of their marathon sex sessions which at one point featured the vibrator-that-could-be-mistaken-for-a-pipe-bomb.

  When they had finally stopped at god-knows-what-time o’clock, Amy had slept the sleep of a carnally satisfied woman who also had another great blog entry idea: Fear and Your Libido: How Surviving Can Lead to a Night of Great Passion.

  And unlike most nights, Amy had managed to turn her brain completely off. There had been no waking up in the dark room, ideas for her blog or podcast running rampant in her skull and forcing her to toss off the covers, get out of bed and spend the pre-dawn hours tapping away on her laptop. No. This time, Amy had slept soundly until the stirring of her fabulous girlfriend next to her woke her up sometime near ten o’clock. Amy had been amazed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept that late. On weekends, on holidays, it just didn’t happen. It couldn’t have just been because her and Sally had stayed up until the wee hours having sex—that happened a lot and each time it did, Amy still would often awaken early.

  No, Amy had determined, lying there in bed, watching Sally slowly awaken. No, she had slept late because somehow during her slumber her subconscious had told her brain that when you have a second chance at life, sometimes it’s okay if you just remain in bed, sleeping next to the woman you love.

  Because Amy was in love with Sally. She had known it since surviving the Event, when she had felt an overwhelming relief not only at being alive but at knowing she now had a chance at a long life with one Sally Lassiter.

  And she was certain Sally was in love with her as well. Amy’s soul told her that. But they hadn’t said the words to each other yet.

  Why? Amy had wondered as she had watched Sally’s eyelids begin to flutter open before deciding it didn’t matter. It would happen and it would happen soon.

  Now, it was late Saturday morning and her and Sally had just finished brunch at what could only be described as a boîte. They had had the most delicious lobster omelets ever, washed down with superb mimosas and were now walking off all the calories by strolling along the Waterfront Trail.

  “Hey!” Amy said as they walked past a shop selling crystals and gems just before turning onto Alaskan Way. “We’ve been together a month now.”

  Sally smiled.

  “Really?”

  “Four weeks ago yesterday we had our first date,” Amy informed her.

  “Oh my god, you’re right!” Sally said. “Fuck, we packed a lot into one month.”

  “Our first and second trips together,” Amy said.

  “Our first and only fight,” Sally added.

  “No, no, no! That was our second fight!”

  Sally stopped and looked at Amy, frowning.

  “What was our first?” she asked.

  “When you told me you weren’t Jillian Ashley,” Amy said.

  “Oh, right.”

  They continued walking.

  “Lots of incredible sex,” Sally went on.

  “Oh my god, soooooo much incredible sex!” Amy concurred. “God, when you took me on the beach like that!”

  “After our first fight, no less,” Sally reminded her.

  “Oh, so that means it was our first make-up sex!”

  “You’re right again!”

  “Not going to lie,” Amy began, “but when I realized that you could make me come like that when I’m fully clothed…I started getting a little obsessed with you.”

  She decided to leave out the fact that her clit was pulsing even now remembering that night on the beach.

  Sally laughed.

  “What else?” she asked.

  “I got one!” Amy enthused. “We both got recognized like superstar celebrities in that bookstore.”

  “That’s right,” Sally agreed. “And let’s not forget the big one, baby. Almost dying in a fiery plane crash!”

  “Definitely! Ooh! If we do this eleven more times we’ll have a year together.” Amy put her arm around Sally’s waist and rested her head against Sally’s shoulder as they walked. “Imagine…a whole year.”

  Sally put her own arm around Amy.

  “I love that idea,” she said.

  They walked in silence for a bit and Amy could think of no time when she was happier.

  After a moment, she said, “Well, let’s see…two fights a month make twenty-four for the year. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

  Sally scoffed.

  “My parents used to fight a lot more than that in a month before they got divorced. I think we’ll be okay as long as you always admit I’m right.”

  Amy poked her girlfriend in the ribs.

  “Or,” she began, “we just agree right now that I’m always right.” She stopped, turned Sally to face her and gave her a quick kiss. “I won’t care who’s right; just as long as we promise not to sleep apart again.”

  “Deal,” Sally said and this time it was she who claimed Amy’s lips for a kiss.

  They treated themselves to ice cream cones bought from a vendor with a little cart in Waterfront Park and then they walked through the park looking at the sculptures and admiring the views across the bay.

  When they were done there, Sally suggested they be rebels and have cocktails, even though it had only just turned eleven a.m. Amy used her phone to find the name and location of what looked to be a hipster rum bar on Seneca Street, which was just a couple of blocks ahead. Just as they turned onto that street, something caught Amy’s eye.

  “Oh, look! How gorgeous!”

  In the window of a jewelry store was a stunning ruby and emerald necklace on display along with several other pieces including a couple of bracelets, a handful of engagement rings and three ladies watches. But the necklace was the star of the show.

  “Do you think that’s real?” Amy asked, in awe.

  “I bet it is. This looks like the kind of shop that sells the good stuff.”

  Amy nodded, wondering where she would wear such a necklace. It would have to be an amazing occasion. Lesbian Podcast of the Year Awards (once she invented that), or something similar. Or when her and Sally celebrated their 120th month together.

  Ten years.

  The thought made Amy smile. It also made her eyes wander down to where several engagements rings in black velvet boxes sho
ne like stars brought down from the firmament.

  Chapter 42

  God, that necklace is out of this world!

  Amy had good taste in jewelry, Sally considered, eyeing the ruby and emerald masterpiece in the window. She tried to imagine owning it, actually having it in her jewelry collection. Then, she tried imagining what kind of occasion would merit her taking it out of whatever biometrically-accessed, 25-digit PIN, laser-grid-protected safe she would keep the necklace in, and wear it.

  She had always thought that if she ever did start her own graphic design firm, that she would host a fabulous holiday party at the end of each year. That would be a good time to break out the necklace.

  Or winning an Indigo Award—that would certainly be another occasion; especially once the pandemic was good and over and things like in-person awards ceremonies became a reality again.

  Or maybe an anniversary. An anniversary with Amy.

  Five years. Ten…

  The thought caused a warm glow to bloom in her chest and a secret smile to play on her lips.

  Sally knew she was in love with Amy. Had known it for a while now. Ever since the Incident. Okay, she considered, maybe she had known it even before then. At the very least, she had known her feelings towards Amy were heading in that direction. But it was the Incident which really brought it home for her. Being able to walk away from the airplane on legs which had felt like jelly because she had been so scared had made Sally so appreciative of being alive and though it was now a week since that emergency landing, Sally knew she still wanted her second chance at life to be spent with this workaholic caffeine addict standing by her side now on a street in Seattle.

  And she knew Amy felt the same way; that Amy was in love with her also. It was in the way Amy looked at her; in the way Amy kissed her; in the way Amy refused to go to sleep each night unless some part of her body was touching Sally. They hadn’t said the words yet, though. Was Amy waiting for her to say them first? Sally had often wondered that. For her own part, Sally was waiting for the perfect moment. She had almost said it yesterday when they were in the airport waiting to board their flight here to Seattle, but who says “I love you” for the first time to someone in an airport? Might as well say it in a post office. And she had almost screamed it last night as she orgasmed for the fourth time, but she always thought that declarations of love made mid-orgasm were not to be trusted. Besides, that was a hell of an orgasm. The truth was, Sally loved everybody as she was rocked with that one.

  She mentally shrugged.

  They’d say it when they’d say it, she figured. In the end, they were just words. What mattered was how they felt and how they treated each other. If Amy never said it, Sally would still be content provided Amy continued looking at her the way she did, and kissed her the way she did, and insisted on drifting off to sleep while touching her.

  Sally’s eyes wandered around the jewelry store’s window at some of the other items. The watches caught her attention and she reminded herself that her meddling mother’s birthday was coming up. A watch would do nicely, even though what her mother really wanted was a doctor’s lesbian daughter as a future daughter-in-law; but Sally would insist she settle for the watch.

  Oh, how beautiful!

  Sally’s eyes had just alighted on the cluster of engagement rings in the window. There were seven of them and what Sally liked about them all was that even though they were clearly engagement rings, none of them were very traditional-looking. The jeweler had managed to craft diamond rings that had funky, contemporary designs that were still elegant and which used a variety of metals, sometimes in the same ring.

  “These are so cool!” she muttered. “I love it when jewelry designers push the envelope!”

  Amy nudged her.

  “Let’s go in! I really like their stuff and wouldn’t mind seeing more. Ooh, maybe we can try some pieces on!”

  “What? Really?”

  “I love trying on jewelry!” Amy pressed. “Come on!”

  But Sally hesitated.

  “I don’t want to waste their time, though,” she said. This place didn’t look like it was part of a chain, at least a chain she had ever heard of. And the pandemic had hit independent shops hard. Sally didn’t like the idea of getting a shopkeeper’s hopes up for a sale only to end up with nothing.

  She explained this to Amy who responded by giving her a quick kiss.

  “You are just soooooo fucking sweet!” she exclaimed. “So we’ll each buy something! Earrings or a bracelet or something. A memento from our trip to Seattle.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me I actually have to convince a woman to buy jewelry…”

  Amy’s plan made Sally feel better and she smiled.

  “Alright, fine.”

  The shop was small but well-appointed and designed in a bright, minimalist style that was simultaneously couture but welcoming. They were the only customers and were greeted by a thin and beautiful woman with exotic features—Sally guessed North African—and who was dressed entirely in black. She was even taller than Sally, a fact made even more remarkable by the fact that she was wearing flats. And as soon as this woman made eye contact with her, Sally’s gaydar started pinging.

  “Welcome in,” the woman said. “My name is Adilah; how can I help you?”

  “Oh my god, that’s such a pretty name!” Amy enthused.

  Adilah blushed.

  “Thank you; it’s Moroccan,” she said. Sally felt a little proud that her secret superpower of being able to correctly guess at least the geographic region of where a person was from was still working. “By the way, I’ve been vaccinated and so if you’re more comfortable with your masks off, feel free.”

  “I’m Sally and this is Amy,” Sally said, taking off her mask, feeling it was only fair to introduce themselves as well. “And we’ve both been vaccinated as well. We love that necklace in the window.”

  Adilah thanked them again and then said, “My wife designed it.”

  And score one for my gaydar!

  “We also love those rings in the window!” Amy said.

  “And I designed those,” Adilah said, with a laugh. “You two are making my day! I do all the rings and Ekaterina does most everything else. Would you care to look at some of the rings?”

  The rings…?

  Sally looked at Amy who smiled and shrugged playfully.

  “Why not?” Amy asked. “We’re here.” To Adilah, she said, “Yes, please.”

  “Water? Coffee? Champagne?” Adilah asked.

  “Ooh, I didn’t expect that!” Sally exclaimed. “I’d like some Champagne.” She pointed at Amy. “She, however, will probably want all of the coffee you’ve got, including the grounds and, if you have them, the beans too.”

  Laughing, Amy playfully smacked Sally’s arm.

  “Shut up!” she said. Looking up at Adilah, Amy then said, “But, she’s not entirely wrong…I actually will have coffee, please.”

  When Adilah shimmered away, Amy leaned closer to Sally.

  “This doesn’t weird you out, does it?” she asked.

  “What?”

  Amy sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and shrugged.

  “That I told her we’d like to see the rings,” she began.

  Sally shook her head.

  “No, not at all,” she said, hoping she sounded nonchalant. “We were admiring them, after all. It will be cool to see them up close.”

  Tell her now!

  She just wanted to blurt it all out. Not only that she was in love with Amy but that, no, it does not “weird her out” that they were about to look at engagement rings just for fun. In fact, Sally wanted to tell her, they might as well try on rings because…

  “I have coffee and Champagne?”

  This came from another woman with exotic features—Sally guessed eastern European, maybe; a former Soviet bloc country, perhaps—who emerged from a back room carrying a silver tray bearing a mug of coffee and a flute of Champagne.

  “Hi, I’m Ekat
erina. I don’t know how you take your coffee,” she said in accented English, “but we do have cream and sugar I can bring out as well.”

  “Black is fine,” Amy insisted.

  “Cream and sugar impede the delivery of caffeine to her veins,” Sally quipped.

  “Ignore her,” Amy said.

  Ekaterina laughed.

  “My wife told me that you were being teased about being a coffee addict and so I brought you these as well” she said, tapping a small packet on the tray. “From my own stash.”

  “Oh my god, Amy!” Sally said, eyeing the packet and laughing. “Those are perfect!”

  Even Amy had to laugh.

  It was a small packet of dark-chocolate-covered coffee beans. Amy thanked Ekaterina, picked up the candy and stuck her tongue out at Sally.

  “Just for being a smart-ass, I’m not sharing these with you,” she said, tearing open the small plastic bag and popping a bean into her mouth.

  “You look very familiar,” Ekaterina said, after eyeing Sally for a few moments. “Have you been in here before?”

  “This is Jillian Ashley, top lesbian author,” Amy hurriedly supplied and then gave Sally a snarky look. “Perhaps you’ve seen her interview on a podcast some caffeine-addicted woman did.”

  Sally couldn’t help but laugh at Amy’s particular form of revenge. However, she also resolved that tonight, in bed, she was going to tease Amy to within an inch of her life before letting her come.

  Ekaterina’s eyes bulged.

  “Oh my god, you’re right!” she exclaimed. “I love your books!” She then turned to Amy. “And you’re the one who interviewed her! I love your show!”

  Adilah returned then.

  “Honey,” Ekaterina said, turning to her, “this is that writer I’m always reading, Jillian Ashley!”

  “My real name is Sally, though,” Sally added.

  Adilah smiled.

  “Well!” she began. “I don’t read as much as my wife but let me thank you nonetheless. Whenever Ekaterina reads one of your books…let’s just say I end up getting entertained as well.”

  All four women laughed. A few moments later, Adilah arranged a collection of engagement rings on a small table, along with a handful of bracelets which both Sally and Amy also wanted to see.