by JLee Meyer
Michael sighed and propped himself against the building, the cameras that hung around his neck weighing him down. He was tired of watching the hotel, spying on Kate Hoffman, too. “How are we supposed to get into a ‘women only’ hotel? That doorwoman could play pro football. Did you see the stinkeye she gave us when we tried to follow Kate into the lobby?”
Chuckling, Chaz started removing cameras from his own neck and loading the equipment into their various bags and cases. “Nothing we haven’t seen before. Besides, we’ll figure out how to get in. Isn’t it discrimination to allow only women?”
Michael admired Chaz’s short curly brown hair, which framed unusually large blue eyes and perfect teeth. Not only was he handsome, but he could usually sweet-talk his way into most situations.
Michael couldn’t wait to order a cosmo somewhere, so he had begun to help Chaz with the equipment. “Not if it’s a private club. I think they have some sort of membership thing happening. If it’s by invitation only, we’re screwed. We can’t pass the physical.”
“Well, maybe we’ll let Mei-Lee do the work.” Chaz gave Michael a suggestive look, and Michael knew he was focusing on his slight build and delicately beautiful Asian features.
“No way! If they found out I was in drag I could be in a bunch of trouble. Besides, Mei-Lee’s very honest. She doesn’t do this stuff. And she likes Kate Hoffman. Kate saved some of our friends’ butts when they needed a beard to make them look straight. She’s been nothing but supportive. I don’t like this.”
“Look, Hoffman’s sister is with one of the owners of this place. Our job is to get a look at all of them and try to capture as many juicy shots of lesbians as we can. Frankly, we don’t have a lot and we can’t get inside. But with Hoffman being there so much, we may have found a way in. Besides, she and her sister look alike. Maybe we can doctor a photo to at least make people think she’s gay. Or get a shot of her and her girlfriend making out. I only know the money’s good.”
Zipping the last case closed, Chaz stood and they started hurrying to the parking garage. “You don’t have to like it. We’ll just snag a few good shots. I wonder why Mr. Moneybags is so interested in trying to get something on Hoffman?”
“And why’s he so interested in this hotel? Who cares if it’s just for women?”
Chaz shook his head. “Probably because Hoffman comes here a lot. Well, we have enough for today. Let’s drive over to the Castro. I do love to visit our home planet.”
Michael sighed and hefted the duffel onto his shoulder while Chaz led the way toward the garage. How long would it take him to grow up and stop chasing the easy buck at the expense of others? More than that, what would it take to finally convince himself that following Chaz around and participating in these shady deals wasn’t bringing them any closer? Chaz had only one man in his life: Chaz. Michael needed to stop dreaming that situation would change.
Chapter Three
Shades of gray blanketed the room and everything in it. Only the light from the windows made the machines and equipment in the workout facility visible. Dasher needed to do at least a light exercise routine, to counteract her sleeplessness of the night before. Besides, she preferred getting here before dawn so she could have the place to herself.
The night before, Stefanie gave her a tour of the gym with its impressive array of mats, mirrors, free weights, and machines. The tinted windows overlooked downtown San Francisco’s Union Square, so the guests could enjoy the view without others watching them.
Tossing one of the soft white towels that were stacked in a row by the reception desk over her shoulder, Dasher walked to a section of mats where she could stretch and then quietly run through various forms of Tai Chi.
This type of exercise always relaxed and invigorated her at the same time. She usually did the routines on the beach behind her bungalow in Malibu, then ran for several miles. But she planned to forgo the run this morning because of the Elysium meeting at nine. She needed to work on the phone and computer for a few hours before the meeting. While normally she wore loose clothing for Tai Chi, today she had pulled on only a sports bra and workout tights, thinking she might try some of the other equipment.
After several minutes she became completely absorbed in the routines, her breath deepening with exercise, her blood humming with energy. She was vaguely aware that another early riser had entered the room, but since it was difficult to see, she assumed the other person either hadn’t spotted her or was politely ignoring her.
By the time she focused on the facility again, the sun was seeping through the buildings and throwing light on some parts of the gym. She turned to pick up her towel and pack, then stopped.
The glow of the early morning bathed Kate Hoffman, who was running through what was obviously a well-learned yoga routine. Her blond hair was tied back but still reflected rays of gold. The simple workout tights emphasized her toned figure but didn’t display it. She moved gracefully, fluidly. Dasher was spellbound.
She stood in the shadows, rooted to the mat. Kate was careful with her injured leg, taking time to stretch the knee gradually, breathing into the injury site, exhaling and allowing the probably tight muscles surrounding it to lengthen gradually. She was a vision.
She didn’t seem able to flex the knee fully, but she was at an advanced level in all other aspects of her routine. She easily moved to a headstand and Dasher was to able pull herself from her reverie long enough to realize that she needed to leave, hopefully without Kate catching her gawking. She was certain that’s how Kate would view her presence, even though Dasher was there first. Everyone else stared at her. Why would Dasher be different?
Silently moving toward the exit, she heard a squeak and then a thud come from Kate’s direction. When she whirled to see the problem Kate was hugging her knee, breathing rapidly. Dasher was instantly by her side.
“Kate! Are you okay?” She touched Kate, firmly grasped her upper arms, and made her look in her eyes. There she saw only pain and a weariness she’d never witnessed before. Without thinking she pulled Kate to her and rocked her gently, telling her it would pass, that she must have overdone it. Kate nestled into her arms, allowing the comfort.
The feeling of completeness lasted perhaps fifteen seconds before Kate stiffened and pushed Dasher away. “What are you doing? Spying on me? Get away.” Her face was contorted in pain and anger, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment.
“Spying? No, no…I was exercising and then trying to leav—”
“Forget it, Pate. I saw you sneaking out. Can’t I even have two minutes to myself to stretch? God!” She seemed to be warming up to a full tantrum.
“I wasn’t sneaking, Kate. I was here first. I only noticed you when I was through and was trying not to disturb you. Geez, why does everything have to be about you?”
Kate stared at her, then huffed and scooted farther away. “It doesn’t. It’s just that you…startled me. I didn’t know who you were and landed wrong when I came down too fast.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. Is there anything I can do?” Dasher reached to help her up but Kate turned away.
Dash couldn’t hold back the loud sigh of frustration that escaped her lips when she stood to leave. “Well, from now on I’ll make a lot of noise if I see you before you see me. Have a better day.” She left Kate on the mat, glaring after her.
*
Kate waited until the door to the room clicked shut before she tentatively tried her knee. She’d have to put ice on it as soon as she got back in her room. She scolded herself for overreacting to Dasher’s concern.
Truthfully, she’d come to the gym and instantly known it was Dasher across the room. Although she couldn’t see her facial features clearly, the gradual dawn revealed her to be sinew and muscle beautifully folded onto a perfectly proportioned frame. Kate observed every muscle group, every nuance of motion, hypnotized by Dasher’s grace and her quiet certainty.
When she was finally able to move to the farthest spot away from Dasher, she was u
nable to merely go through her yoga routines as best she could. She had to make them perfect, in case Dasher caught sight of her. She pushed too far, and when she fell from her headstand, the pain reminded her of the injury and how frightened she’d been at the time.
Then Dasher, damn her, had been there, and when Dasher held her, she made the pain bearable and the fear disappear. Of course Kate had to push her away and accuse her of being a rotten individual. She couldn’t just accept Dasher’s offer of compassion.
Sometimes she wondered about herself. What was it about Dasher Pate that didn’t allow her to be friendly? Or even neutral? Every nerve ending, every emotion she possessed was uniquely tuned to that woman. She had schooled herself to be on guard for the intentions of most others, which were usually self-serving. On the rare occasions she was willing to admit it, hers certainly were.
But Dasher, for some reason, always got in under her defenses. Every damned time Kate had to consciously do—well—what she just did: Realize what she was doing and with whom she was doing it. She was accepting comfort from the enemy, that’s what—comfort from someone who could have derailed her career before it even began, according to Joe Alder. Someone who could torpedo her even now.
It didn’t matter that Dasher had never done anything overtly to hurt her. Or that she couldn’t get Dasher’s face out of her head sometimes. Or that when she was in Dasher’s arms, being there felt the opposite of dangerous. It felt right. None of that mattered. All she saw was a big red warning sign.
She had to be constantly vigilant in order to head off any potential threats to her career, her image. However, she was tired and her image had begun to mean less to her, perhaps since her injury. Her defenses were probably just down because she’d overworked her knee. So naturally, when the pain hit, she was unable to push Dasher away before she…before she…allowed Dasher to care for her.
*
Kate limped to the common area that served as a meeting room for the society and found a comfortable chair with an ottoman on which to rest her now-swollen knee. She’d torn the medial meniscus and received a nice knock on the head while filming an escape scene in her latest thriller.
She chose a surgeon who would not only repair the knee and clean out all the other junk in there from years of athletics, but would leave barely a trace of a scar. As pretty as it was, it still hurt like hell and had only recently begun to feel better. Alder had pushed her to do some of her own stunts, and she willingly agreed. She was in good shape and figured she wouldn’t have any problems.
She hadn’t considered the time such stunts would require away from her actual acting responsibilities, or the athletic abilities needed. While physically she was capable, having to gut up to do the stunts took its toll and distracted her. She was now quite content to let the second-unit director and the stunt folks do their thing while she concentrated on her characters. No matter what Joe said, her fans did care if she could act, that rat bastard. She had the fan mail to prove it. Maybe most considered it a pleasant surprise, but she could act.
She looked around the tastefully furnished common area of the Elysium floors, which came complete with a beautiful young female attendant. Laurel said they employed a lot of college kids part-time, many that she had taught before she took her sabbatical. The young woman had brought her a pot of fresh Assam tea and a large cup that held more than two ounces.
Some of the members that Kate met at the first gathering of the Elysium Society began to arrive. They helped themselves to refreshments and found a spot to sit. Most waved or came by to say hello and reintroduce themselves, polite but not fawning. Kate was relieved and a bit disconcerted at the same time. She’d always been the center of attention, no matter where she went. Her physical beauty, and now her celebrity, almost guaranteed that.
As she looked around, she saw at least a half dozen women who could match her looks yet chose to avoid the limelight. She could practically tick them off on her fingers: a world-famous journalist who was Greek and beautiful, but seemed unaware of both her beauty and her status; senators; CEOs of large corporations. It was heady company—all looking fabulous but not preening. Kate decided she wanted to be that way. Next meeting, less makeup, maybe no makeup. The thought made her uneasy and she quickly shelved the idea.
She had to admit that she didn’t have much experience in the world of not being the star. But she needed to learn. Laurel did it so easily. Maybe she’d follow Laurel’s example. A familiar voice brought her out of her reverie.
“Hey, Kate, how’s the knee doing?” Stefanie Beresford settled gingerly on the ottoman, her warm chocolate brown eyes welcoming. Kate liked this woman more each time she saw her. She never uttered a smarmy double entendre like those Laurel’s ex had constantly come up with. Stef seemed to be madly in love with Laurel, which Kate admired. She felt like she could trust her.
“It’s better, but I like to elevate it when I can. Keeps any swelling down. I think I overdid it this morning in the workout facility. I’ll give up the ottoman if someone needs it, though. How are you? I’ll bet putting the finishing touches on the hotel has kept you busy.”
Kate surprised herself by caring about Stef’s reply, but then she attributed her interest to needing to know that the opening hadn’t been pushed back, thereby screwing up her schedule. She rarely thought about anyone else’s responsibilities.
Stef said, “It’s been hectic, but Laurel has been a huge help. She’s very organized, and she and Denny keep us all on track. To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I’d do without her. On every level.”
Stef’s unabashed love for Laurel warmed Kate’s heart, but she quickly looked away, uncertain why. Was she jealous? She really liked Stef and was glad for Laurel. But seeing her sister so happy made her own miserable love life stand out in glaring relief.
While she made the obligatory rounds of parties and award shows, for the most part, that’s all they were: a to-do list. The public-relations machine constantly ground out rumor and innuendo about her being seen with her latest leading man, at least until the opening of the film, which was when they usually quietly parted ways. She’d always told herself this was simply the way the business was, but lately she’d begun to understand the toll that kind of lying and distortion could take on an individual.
She’d watched talented actors and actresses succumb to the drugs and alcohol that those who wished to control them so willingly provided. She’d seen women with their own distinct look submit to being cut and dyed, waxed and Botoxed into someone else’s vision of beauty. She wondered what price she would eventually be willing to pay. At the very least, she seemed willing to sacrifice the type of love Stefanie and Laurel enjoyed.
Stefanie’s voice broke up her pity party. “Kate? Hello?”
“Um, sorry, Stef. What were you saying?” She was surprised to see the concerned expression on Stef’s face.
“I wanted to tell you about a new member before she’s introduced. Laurel said you might want to know.”
Kate’s attention was drawn to the smiling woman behind Stef. Dasher Pate. Gray eyes, ringed with thick eyelashes, held hers for the second time that morning and wouldn’t let go.
Stef’s voice intruded. “Kate? What are you…oh.” Stef had followed Kate’s line of sight. Quickly standing, she gave Dasher a hug.
“Hey there, welcome. I gather you two have met.” Stef stood aside with a hopeful expression.
Kate didn’t intend to embarrass anyone by causing a scene, so she stayed where she was but offered her hand to Dasher. “Hello, again. Are you joining the Elysium Society?”
Dasher’s warm touch sent a current to every part of Kate’s body and she jerked her hand back. Alarmed and confused, she felt her cheeks begin to burn immediately. Damnit. She should have remembered that about Dasher. Never touch.
Kate could swear Dasher was smirking as she casually said, “I’m thinking about it. Does it mean I get to stay on these floors? I thought the lower floors were wonderful, but the
se are spectacular.” She looked around and waved to a few women she evidently knew.
Still flustered, Kate snapped, “It has a lot more to it than plush accommodations, so if that’s your only interest, stay at the Four Seasons.”
Dasher’s smile disappeared and her jaw muscles worked, but she didn’t speak. After a moment she quietly said, “Stef, talk to you later,” then walked to the other side of the room and found a chair. Several others quickly engaged her in conversation.
Stef hesitated, then said, “Kate, I didn’t know you disliked Dasher so much. Do you want me to ask her to leave?”
“What? No, of course not. I must be irritable because of my knee. It aches terribly today. We just seem to clash. I’m sure Dasher would be an asset to the society. Sorry, Stef.”
Giving her a relieved and likely grateful grin, Stef moved quickly off to greet others.
Kate surprised herself with her apology and suspected she owed one to Dasher, too. This whole weekend was turning out to be an emotional roller coaster for her, and that had not been the plan.
Damn that Dasher Pate anyway. This happened every time she ran into her and was a big reason she avoided her when possible, or at least tried to anticipate running into her. She needed to be prepared. She’d been blindsided just now, which was why she’d reacted so poorly. Working a confusing situation like this out in her head always made her feel better.
The room was completely full and buzzing in anticipation. Laurel had taken Stef’s vacated spot on the ottoman and patted Kate’s leg reassuringly, her attention on Irina Castic and Seraphina Drake.
The Elysium Society had been recently reborn, primarily because of Irina and Seraphina’s efforts to keep its flame alive through some hard times. Also, the tenacity of Stefanie Beresford to rehabilitate the hotel and the curiosity of Laurel, who kept digging into the hotel’s past, had made this new beginning possible.
