by Jessica Pots
“Do you think you can fix it?” Gemma’s expression is one of pure hope.
The woman in the uniform shrugs. “We can try.” She grins. “But it’s going to cost ya’.”
I nod slowly, realizing that its official…
Our lives have just become one-big-scary-bill.
love
THE RING IS IN MY pocket, just sitting at the bottom of it.
It’s mayhem around here and it isn’t even 9:00 a.m. yet.
A team of plumbers have flooded Crush and are currently attending to our busted plumbing.
Other assorted people are here to who are assisting with the preparation for tonight.
All I could think about when I first saw the plumbing squad when I arrived is how much it was going to cost us to have it all fixed. I have no doubt they gave Gemma their emergency rate. And knowing that we are in no position to refuse considering the timeline we’re on only gave me heartburn about what the plumbing receipt will undoubtedly look like.
A breath of air drifts from my mouth.
I’ve spent the last hour going over the guest list which surprisingly is quite impressive. We’ve even managed to get just one semi-celebrity in here and the woman performing tonight on stage when the clock strikes twelve is popular with the college crowd.
Three hundred people will crowd this place soon and something inside me feels so warm and giddy that they’ve decided to bring in the new year here, with us, tonight.
“Um, Honey.” I peek over her shoulder where she’s perched in front of the desktop, glaring at the screen like it’s done something to her. “Do you remember when we first met?”
“Yes, of course.” With a little giggle she spins around in the chair.
“Well…”
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
I exhale long and loud, smile then spin around.
Gemma is standing in the doorway. A whole lot of trepidation mars her features and she most definitely looks as if she needs to run a brush or three through her hair and run face-first into a bag of cosmetics.
“Did the plumbers say how much more time they’ll need?” Honey directs the question at Gemma.
Gemma shakes her head from side to side slowly.
Honey groans.
I breathe.
Gemma frowns. “I’m hoping not much longer but it’s a really big job.”
Honey shoves her fingers into her hair. “I just don’t get it. Of all the nights. Of all the times in the world this could happen. How on earth could this go wrong to-night?”
Gemma lifts a shoulder. “Murphy’s Law…you know whatever can go wrong will.”
I plop down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk and stretch my legs out.
“Aside from this massive incident, is everything else good?” Honey gestures with a hand.
“Yes, I-I-I think so.” She pulls a notepad from her back pocket and shoves a pencil in her mouth, gnawing on it. “The decorators should be here to put the finishing touches on this place in a few hours. The chefs will be here around the same time. The menu is set for the hors d’oeuvres. They’ll be serving onion quiche and crab wontons.”
Honey grimaces. “I thought we said no onions…”
Gemma freezes. “Did you?”
“Yessss.” Honey exhales. “Why is no one listennnnning to me?”
“Um, yeah, okay, no onions. I’ll let them know that.” Gemma scribbles notes.
“I mean, do you really want your New Year’s Eve date breathing dragon onion breath in your face all night?” Honey stands and piles some papers high.
Gemma shakes her head. “Um, yeah, gross. I guess not. Onion quiche is a bad idea.” She shows us the notepad. “You see. I wrote it down. Bad. Bad. Bad. It’s gone.” She scratches through the words violently. “See, gone.”
Honey piles up more pages and I have no doubt that they’re receipts and schedules and plans for the next coming week which we’ll spend endless hours going through together.
“What time will the bartenders be here?” I glance over at Gemma.
“They’ll be here exactly at 4:30 p.m. But one will be a little late…” Her voice lowers.
“Why?” Honey slaps a stack of pages on the desk.
“Well.” Gemma rocks her head from right to left. “She’s a single mom.” She refers to a young woman we’ve just hired. “Couldn’t find a sitter for tonight. As you can image it’s tough!” She chokes out a laugh. “Then she found one, but the sitter can’t take the kid until a certain hour…”
“Oh.” Nothing but sympathy rises inside of me.
“I see.” Honey softens.
Gemma checks her watch. “I have like a billion things to do and then I need to go home and get dolled-up just like the two of you must.” Her shoulders fall dramatically as she sighs. “Do you think I’ll find love tonight?”
The question throws the room into complete silence.
I meet Gemma’s worried eyes, so does Honey.
Gemma squirms, tidies her hair. “I don’t know. I guess I’m kind of excited that it’s New Year’s Eve even though technically, I’m working.” She smiles. “I get to start over. Maybe, just maybe some lovely, hot, sexy, sweet woman will stroll in here tonight, and in some way, somehow, I’ll find out she’s my forever.”
“That’s sweet,” Honey whispers.
I glance over at her and I’m reminded why she’s my forever.
“I think you’ll find her.” Honey smiles.
Gemma laughs softly then perks way up. “Well, then. I guess that’s it for my moment today.” She blinks rapidly as if pushing away tears. “New Year’s Eve is not the time to be miserable and to be worrying about the past and all the things that didn’t go right and what you couldn’t fix.” She stares at the floor for a moment. “So, I’ll try my very best not to think about the extra ten pounds I promised I wouldn’t gain this year but did and about how I still haven’t lost it yet.” She huffs.
“Yeah, me too.” Honey chuckles.
“Me three.” I grin.
We laugh.
“Okay, well, I should get going, lots to do around here.” Gemma heads for the door and pulls it shut behind her.
I scan this messy office.
In here are now three desks—mine, Honey’s and Gemma’s.
Each one of them is strewn with papers and comes complete with a computer screen which is covered in yellow Post-It notes. It’s crammed in here. Smiling, I realize this is the way it will stay until we can knock out the wall to the next room which will enable us to expand it. And with everything else going on right now here at Crush that likely won’t happen for months.
Honey plops down in a chair. “That’s exactly why we hired her.” She thumbs toward the door. “She sweet and introspective. I like that about her. You won’t believe how many problems in the world could be solved if people just took a good look at themselves every now and again.” She laughs. “Do you know some people like never self-reflect?” Her brows crash together.
“Yeah.” I laugh. “I know that.” Standing, I stroll toward her and sit on the edge of the desk, perching right in front of her.
“Dear, god. It’s unthinkable honestly. I’m always looking deep within myself, attempting to find all the answers, often wondering where I went wrong, often thinking of how I can improve and become a better person. Making sure there’s more of me to offer the world.”
Reaching for her hand, I take it in mine and kiss the top of it. “Yeah, and that’s what I’ve always loved about you, Honey, truly.”
A soft blush rolls across her cheeks and pinkens the apples of them. “You always say the right things, Love. I don’t know how you do that. God, each time I have something important to say, often I can’t get it out or it doesn’t come out right.” She lowers her head.
I kiss the top of her hand once more, savoring the softness, inhaling the unique scent of her skin that’s only hers. “What is it that you need to say?” I prepare to drift down to my knees.
&n
bsp; Blue eyes go big, really big. “I-I-I don’t know…nothing.” She exhales. “I don’t think.” With effort, she clears her throat. “No, I mean, nothing I need to say right now or right this moment. I always think there’s a perfect time for things to be said, Love.”
I freeze.
“And this isn’t it.” With a groan, she makes her hair messy and looks around.
“Oh.”
Honey gets back to work.
I sit and think, think, think.
She taps out emails. “Do you think the color pink is too ‘feminine’?” She glances over her shoulder at me then points at the email on the screen. “Can you believe that is exactly what this guy has said?” She squints at the revamped cocktail napkin designs for Crush. “He said the motif—pink—is too feminine.”
I shrug. “Well, Crush is a nightclub dedicated solely to us… to women…and if they just happen to be lesbians then all the better.”
“You say to ‘women’.” Honey’s brows arch.
“Yes, wasn’t that always our intent, Honey?”
“Yes, but Crush is for lesbians, dedicated to us....”
I nod. “Yes, but it’s for all women too.”
“Well, if a few of the women who decide to pay this nightclub a visit don’t come here already loving women, when they leave, they’ll certainly find they do.” Honey giggles.
I laugh.
“So, to ‘women’ then?” I lift a brow.
“Yes.” She does a fist-pump. “Girl power!” Giggling, she rises from her chair and shoves the keyboard aside in an angry sort of move when she does. “I’m tired of working, Love.” She slides her curvy frame into my arms. “I realize it’s all we’re ever going to be doing for as long as we own this place.” She buries her mouth into the crook of my neck and her hand glides down, down, down, and almost skitters over my bulging pocket.
I dodge her detective work and press a kiss to her skin, nibbling there softly.
And soon we sink into a kiss that grows ravenous.
We forget all about Niagara Falls which is currently happening in Crush’s bathrooms. We forget about Gemma and the very long ‘to do’ list which currently rests on the desk—each task highlighted in orange and neon green. We forget about tonight and how nervous I know we collectively are.
We simply kiss.
My fingers glide into Honey’s hair. My lips find hers over and over. And when they make contact with her pouty ones, my tongue seeks as if it’s lost. Our tongues tangle in a perfect synchronized dance. Each one of us pushing and pulling, pulling and pushing. It’s gentle yet commanding. They’re the hallmark of our relationship. After all the years of being together, it’s still this way…
We are equals.
No dominant.
No submissive.
We are two women of equal measure.
And that’s what I’ve always loved about us.
Honey’s body bows when my fingers crawl down her midsection and disappear into her raggedy sweatpants. She pants out words. “Love.” Her exhales are rapid. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you.”
I still mid nibble on her neck and gaze into her blues. “Yes, what is it?”
She blinks about a billion times. “Um, nothing.” She shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”
Adorable.
Cute.
Liar.
My brows knot and I wonder just for a beat what exactly she’s hiding behind her remarkable eyes. I can see something there but it’s blurry. It’s concealed. Locked away from me like some super top secret. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, um, yeah. I’m sure.” Grinning, her pouty lips seek out mine once more.
I kiss her back hard, pulse ratcheting up the longer my fingers crawl along the soft skin on her thighs and the sweet scent of her skin hits my nostrils. It’s an aroma that’s buried in my memory—uniquely her and always has been.
She slumps against me, whining softly. “We shouldn’t be doing this here, Love.”
I smile. “Why not?” I kiss her cheek. “It’s our place. We own it. We can do whatever we like.”
Honey laughs. “I suppose you’re right.” A sigh. “You’re always right about the best things, Love.”
Am I?
Is that why this grand opening is going oh so perfectly? And when we should be patrolling the rest of the building to thwart any other mishaps we’re tucked away in this office pawing at each other like horny teenagers?
Because my ideas are always sooooo great…
“So, you don’t regret me?” I smile against her lips, asking the question for kicks.
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.” I smile.
“And even though today isn’t going exactly as planned, still, I’m happy, Love.” She smiles. “Because this day is ours. Tonight is ours.” She shudders completely when my fingers slip into one of my most favorite spots in all the world!
Yes, this-is-ours…
honey
MY FINGERS WRAP AROUND edge of the desk.
It’s my attempt at steadying myself.
With a breath, I glare at the drawer handle thinking of what lurks behind it.
The ring…
The one I can’t stop thinking about.
The very thing I can’t seem to find the perfect moment to offer her.
A soft wail slips from me and then her eager lips are all over me again. Her fingers slip into my wetness rocking me hard and back against the desk. I’m locked in her grip. Nose in her strands. Tongue along her skin. Breathing her in. Her lashes flutter and soon I’m offered up the most alluring green eyes. The ones that took my breath away the very first time I saw her and continue to do so even until this day.
“You’re perfect.” She smiles.
It’s a compliment I need and one I know I don’t deserve since right now I undoubtedly look like I got hit by the L. My hair is a mess and now so is my head. And as for my heart, well, that’s been a fucking wreck ever since I met this woman.
She smiles, giving me straight pearly whites and that haunted look on her face which tells me that if we weren’t here, in this office, every single piece of her clothing would be off and on the floor in a pile as if it’s for trash collection.
My hands fumble over her breasts applying pressure softly, thinking of how they look bare.
So goddamn perfect.
I want to strip her…
Take off her clothes too…
But for now, I’ll take whatever I can…
A pathetic sigh escapes me when her thumb rubs over my clit.
Just the way I like.
My spine weakens and the rest of the bones in my body go on vacation. I slump, panting, bucking against her dangerous hand. My fingers dig into her shoulders, hanging on for dear life.
I yelp when the speed picks up.
Love’s nose is pressed to my cheek, forehead glued to mine like it can’t go anyplace else, eyes staring deep into the pits of me. I search for her lips, sucking the top one into mine, tasting her, consuming her like she’s consuming me.
My hips slam into the edge of the desk and the movement becomes vicious.
With each stroke, I fall apart even more.
Down, down, down…
So far deep I can no longer see through my watery vision.
Limbs weakening. Cries morphing into the ultimate euphoria. Brain a mess.
Burying my face in her shoulder, I pant through my orgasm. Each vicious wave crashes through me, ruining me from my nipples down to my knees.
I lean back and arch my neck to the ceiling.
Sweet kisses are rained along the smooth column of it, dousing my skin in nothing but Love.
“I love you.” I smile.
Red falls around me like the most dramatic curtain, closing this show.
Because in just a moment, we’ll need to go back to work.
I drag my fingers through her hair, allowing the soft strands to slip over my skin, admiring them.
“I
love you too.” Her emerald eyes dance over me, adoring me.
But still, I wonder what the heck they’ve been hiding.
I only kiss her lips and dare not ask.
three
honey
WITH MY EYES NARROWED, I peer at the photograph in my hands. “These are awful. Who approved these shots?” I look around, completely miffed. “Stevie Wonder must’ve reviewed this collection of photographs. What in the hell are they thinking?” I flip through the images which will run in Chi-Town Nights and nearly scream. Holding the very last photograph between my shaky fingers like it’s infected, I search for…
Gemma holds her hands up in front of her, surrender-style.
My mouth hangs open, partly in complete shock and half in blinding rage.
If this runs, Crush is finished before it even gets off the ground.
“Oh my god, Honey. I don’t know how, but the magazine got the launch packages that were approved mixed up. It’s an internal thing. A really bad mix up, Honey. I’ve already been on the phone with them…” She goes on and on and on. “They’ve promised to fix this. They’ve apologized. We’ve still beat the deadline. Thank goodness. But yes, we are super aware that the images are not the best…"
Love approaches, slips one of the photographs out of my hands and gasps. “This must be the first run, right?” Her greens douse me with annoyance. “They can’t run photographs of this nightclub taken before this place was even outfitted with tile and paint!” She sucks in harsh breaths. “We’re dressed in sweats for goodness sakes.” She peers closer at the photographs. “And my hair is a mess!” Her eyes bulge out of her head. “Honey, tell me they won’t be running these pictures for our launch?” She spins around to face Gemma. “Gemma…”
Gemma rests a pacifying hand on Love’s shoulder. “No, they won’t be running these photographs. I have it all-under-control…” She leads Love away.
They bicker about the drink of the night for a moment.
