by Terri Lane
The sun wasn't the only thing causing her to heat up. Her face was an intense shade of red, covering her cheeks and crossing the bridge of her nose to connect the two sides. At least the heat could be a nifty excuse for her appearance.
“So soon?” Cora inquired. “We were hoping you could perhaps join us for dinner.”
“I'm afraid I already have plans today,” Jordan lamented while holding up her cup. “But thank you for this. I'll get back to you soon with more details.”
As she shakily attempted to collect the photographs from the table, Cora rested a hand over hers.
“It would be lovely to keep your company for just a moment longer. I'm sure you're always working and need a rest,” Cora considered.
“Oh, well...” Jordan trailed off.
Without knowing what else to do, she sat herself back down in the seat and readjusted her blouse. It was getting hotter out here. There was shade in the corner of the patio, but she was afraid to suggest it; afraid to move. This heat was unbearable, yet also exciting.
The tingle grew in her legs. It traveled up through her pelvis, into her solar plexus, and erupted from her throat as a slight cough. She held her hand over her lips and then rested it against the table, hoping that Cora wouldn't repeat the gesture from before.
But the top of Jordan's hand tickled. Part of her wanted Cora to repeat it, to be affectionate. She found herself imagining what that would even entail. Was it the same as being with a man? As her face flushed again, she fanned herself and offered another small smile to the two women.
“So, are you a model in your spare time?” Sierra asked.
Jordan chuckled. “You're kidding.”
“No, not at all. You definitely have the face of a model, especially your lips,” Sierra insisted.
“My lips?” Jordan blushed.
Cora nodded in agreement.
“Absolutely. You have full lips. They would be perfect for a make-up ad,” she added. “Don't we know a photographer in the upstate area?”
“I believe so, Ronnie Goode,” Sierra replied.
“I'm afraid modeling would conflict with my job,” Jordan chuckled.
“You wouldn't even need your job if you were to become a model. Have you ever thought about it before?” Cora inquired.
“I mean, I did some portraits in college for friends, but that was it,” Jordan replied.
“Could we see them?”
Wordlessly, Jordan pulled her phone from her pocket and opened up her photo gallery. She pulled up a few photos she had saved from her younger years and held up the phone to the women in front of her. Cora took the phone reverently.
“My goodness, you could be a regular Bettie Day!” she exclaimed.
“A striking resemblance to Ann Corringer, don't you think?”
“And a marvelous figure, especially with that sleek, black dress. Very chic.”
Jordan looked curiously between Cora and Sierra.
“Bettie Day? Ann Corringer?” She smiled politely. “Who are they?”
The women across the table looked shocked for a moment, but gave her a sympathetic look.
“They're famous models, of course. I'm sure they would love to meet you with these photos in your pocket. It's like you're talent just waiting to happen,” Cora said. “A butterfly in waiting.”
“I'm not sure modeling would be for me. I love serving the public,” Jordan admitted. “I just couldn't leave my job.”
Cora rested the phone on the table between them with a wide grin.
“Well, should you ever change your mind, the offer is definitely on the table,” she beamed.
“And that offer won't expire either,” Sierra added.
“I appreciate it. I really do. I'm just not cut out for that sort of lavish living.”
The women smiled and each took a sip from their coffee cups, clearly not fazed by the heat of the sun shining down upon them. Jordan returned the smile and lifted her cup to steady her shaking hands. There was that intimidating glance again, the one that challenged every fiber of her being. She shifted nervously in her chair while cupping her coffee between two shaky hands.
Was this what it felt like to be attracted to women?
***
Jordan clapped her hands together and strongly planted them on her hips. She looked through the bars of the jail cell with a smug look, eyeing the man sitting on the other side.
“Good thing you didn't put up a fight, Phil. You would have lost,” she claimed.
“Well, there's no use fighting when I've been caught,” he considered.
“You're learning.”
Still smiling, she turned around and went back to her office. Captain Roy walked in as she was sitting behind her desk.
“Good work, Young,” he congratulated. “You should take the night off and relax.”
“I have some paperwork to finish up. I'm about to call Miss Henderson about the case,” Jordan said.
“Nonsense. Send the paperwork to me and I'll handle it,” the captain commanded.
Jordan looked slightly confused. Her fingers were perched over her keyboard in preparation to type, remaining frozen as she implored the captain with brown eyes.
“Are you sure, sir?” she requested.
“Absolutely. You're my best officer and I need you to get your beauty sleep,” he replied.
She smiled and nodded.
“Well, alright. If you insist.”
Captain Roy smiled and left the office. When he was gone, Jordan stared at her computer screen with a grim expression. The night off? What was she going to do with her time?
I want to call Miss Henderson to let her know the culprit has been caught, she thought. Then, I can really relax.
As she reached for the phone, her hand trembled slightly. It was the same hand Cora had touched a few days prior at the cafe. She could still feel the soft skin running over hers. She shivered as this memory pressed into her mind, causing her nails to linger around the plastic receiver. After shaking her head, she lifted the phone and looked through her notepad to find Cora's number.
The line rang a few times before Cora picked up:
“Hello?”
“Hello, Miss Henderson. This is Officer Young,” Jordan announced.
“How many times must I insist that you call me Cora?” The words came through the line as a playful tease, tickling Jordan's ear as she blushed.
“I suppose I'm just very proper, ma'am,” she replied.
“Still, it's lovely to hear from you,” Cora cooed.
“I'm glad you think so because I'm calling with excellent news,” Jordan stated. “We have apprehended your dreadful stalker.”
A cheer erupted from the other end of the line and Jordan held the phone away from her ear to avoid the sound. She smiled timidly as she held the receiver back to her ear.
“That's fantastic!” Cora exclaimed. “We absolutely have to go out for dinner to celebrate!”
“I hope you enjoy yourself, ma'am. It was a pleasure working with you.”
“Oh, no! You should come with us,” Cora declared.
Jordan raised her eyebrows at the empty computer screen.
“With you?” she repeated. “I'm not sure that's appropriate.”
“Nonsense. The case is over and you deserve a night to celebrate your hard work. Don't you think so?” Cora posed.
Jordan traced the edge of her notepad longingly, wondering what exactly a night out would be like with two extraordinary women. As she smoothed her fingers over the page, she heard Cora making a clicking sound.
“Listen, I would love to buy you a dress as a token of my gratitude. Consider it a gift for helping stop a horrible person,” Cora offered.
“I'm afraid I can't accept any such gifts. I don't think it would be appropriate for someone in my position to welcome—”
“Hush! I won't hear another word of it! You deserve this, officer.”
A warm smile crossed Jordan's lips as she looked up at the computer scre
en again. She bit her lower lip.
“Please, call me Jordan,” she whispered.
“Oh, Jordan. That's such a lovely name. It's nice to meet you, Jordan. We can pick you up this evening around 5:30 PM for a dress fitting,” Cora proposed. “Could you send me your address?”
“Of course. Absolutely,” Jordan smiled.
“Glorious! Send me a text at this number with your address and we'll see you soon,” Cora beamed.
“I look forward to it.”
The line clicked. Jordan still held the phone to her ear even though the line had long been disconnected. The grin was still plastered to her lips as she lazily held out the receiver to hang up, missing the spot a few times before finally landing it. Her hand dragged across the desk and took a few pages with it. They fluttered listlessly to the floor.
I'm getting fitted for a dress, she reflected. How daunting and exhilarating all at the same time.
She imagined the shop where she would get fitted. Would it be like the bridal store she had visited as a teenager for her prom dress? A smirk and a shrug later, she was up and out of her office. Her feet hurriedly carried her to her car where she glanced nervously at the dashboard. It was only 3:01 PM. She had plenty of time to shower, but the anticipation was proving to be overwhelming.
As she pulled out of the NYPD parking lot, her mind filled with all sorts of fairy tale fantasies. The life of a billionaire was a mystery to her, especially the life of billionaire lesbians. They seemed like wonderful women. And they were. They were so kind. But they were so intimidating at the same time. She hoped she would be able to keep up with them.
***
When the black car pulled up to the curb, Jordan held her breath. She was in the more affluent side of town where the shops displayed dresses that cost no less than $500. Her eyes were wide as they stared at the porcelain-white shop. On the sidewalk, Cora and Sierra waited patiently for her arrival. Jordan stepped out of the car and waved timidly.
She wore a loose, red blouse that accentuated her movements over a pair of dark blue jeans with black heels. It was her nicest set of clothes. She wanted to at least appear to be on par with the other two women. When she approached Cora and Sierra, they smiled wide and embraced her. The hug caught her off guard and she teetered a bit in her heels while hanging on to the excited couple.
“We're so glad you could make it, darling! You look lovely,” Cora commented.
“Doris is the best seamstress in the city. She'll fix you up in a beautiful dress in less than an hour.”
“Simply the best.”
“Absolutely the best.”
“We're excited.”
The two tittered back and forth as Jordan stood bashfully on the sidewalk. Inside the window of the store stood a collection of elegant dresses. They looked incredibly silky, ranging from classic to modern sex appeal. The sight of them made her tingle with elation at the thought of having her very own formal dress.
“I haven't worn one of these since I was a kid,” she joked.
“Well, it's definitely something every woman needs at some point in her life,” Sierra suggested with a wink. “We'll be your fairy godmothers and you can be our princess, but you don't have to adhere to a curfew if you don't want to.”
Jordan giggled as Cora took her hand and pulled her inside. A tall woman with a bright smile approached and kissed Cora on the cheek. She greeted Sierra in the same fashion, but paused over Jordan.
“I'm afraid we haven't met,” the woman beamed. “I'm Doris. You must be Jordan. Your complexion is gorgeous. I know just the color!”
Without another word, Doris darted behind a set of racks and started digging through dresses. The sound of hangers scraping against metal filled the room that was ultimately silent while the three weren't speaking. She gasped and pulled something off the rack, then rounded the corner to reveal it to Jordan. The sight of the dress caused her eyes to widen.
It was a violet purple mermaid gown complete with teal accents trailing all the way down the length of the dress. Pearls decorated the waist and glittering sequins decorated the bosom. The silk material looked incredibly delicate and soft, just like Cora's hands. Jordan held out her arms to accept the dress as she bit back tears.
“It's phenomenal,” she whispered. “You want me to wear this?”
“Purple is your color. That red blouse accents your body well, but I know you have curves under there that would flourish in this dress,” Doris explained.
As Jordan held the dress, she ran her fingers over the smooth texture.
“But why purple?” she implored.
“It's a symbol of royalty. Cora said you should be treated like a princess, so I figured purple would be the best color.”
While biting her lower lip, Jordan held the dress up to her chest and wandered over towards a mirror at the far end of the shop. The three women behind her waited breathlessly as she admired the dress, turning this way and that in order to imagine it on her body. It was form-fitting, that was for sure, and something she never imagined wearing in her mid-thirties.
“It won't be too tight, will it?” she worried.
“Let's find out.”
Grinning, Doris took her hand and showed her to the dressing rooms. Jordan closed the curtain and turned around to find an extensive room covered in mirrors and more dresses. She stood in front of a mirror, peered around timidly, and began to peel away her regular clothes. They looked like tattered garments compared to the delectable gown hanging up on the wall. She unzipped the dress and carefully stepped into it, making sure not to stand on the edges of the dress so it wouldn't tear.
After pulling it up and zipping the back with some effort, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held her bosom while turning around to face the mirror. Joy filled her features as she admired the dress. It fit to near perfection around her waist. It was a bit loose in some areas, but Doris would likely fix that. While turning around, Doris called out from behind the curtain.
“Are you ready, dear?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Jordan beamed. “I'm more than ready.”
The curtain opened and the three women walked inside. Cora and Sierra marveled at the beautiful image of Jordan standing in the mirror. They stood on either side of her and stared for what felt like minutes, practically gawking at her body.
“What a difference a little silk can make!”
“And those curves!”
“I can't believe you don't want to model.”
“This is runway material. I'm telling you.”
Jordan flushed a rosy crimson in her cheeks and forehead that caught Cora's attention. A grin crossed the billionaire's lips that almost appeared sinister under the bright lights, but Jordan was convinced it was a trick of the mind.
“Darling, no need to be embarrassed. You're beautiful. Own it,” Cora declared.
“I'm not used to this attention,” Jordan admitted.
“Well, you'll have to get used to the gawking,” Sierra suggested. “You're a bomb shell and everyone is going to look at you tonight.”
“I'm not terribly fond of being the center of attention.”
Sierra wrapped a comforting arm around Jordan and rubbed her shoulder.
“Don't you worry. We'll keep you safe,” she soothed. “You just do your best to look wonderful. We'll take care of everything else.”
***
“I'd call that a success. Shall we?”
A smiling Jordan nodded excitedly as Cora held out an arm. The three women walked out of the store and stood patiently on the sidewalk as a black car pulled up. Sierra opened the door for Cora and Jordan.
“This is it?” Jordan asked while stepping in. “I thought you two would travel around in a limo.”
“We don't like attracting a great deal of attention. This is much more practical than a limo,” Cora replied.
“Practical,” Jordan repeated.
And much less intimidating. She had expected a limo to carry them around, but was pleas
ed that the unmarked black car was the main choice of travel. It meant less attention; less worry. She breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed into the cushions while Cora became comfortable next to her. Once the door was shut, the driver peeled away from the curb.
Traffic was light. The women in the back seat remained quiet for a moment, drinking in the sweet silence of the car. Though it wasn't loud inside the store, Jordan had become rather overwhelmed while being spun around and fitted. Make-up was applied to her face. Sierra did her hair. The usual drab locks of brown were now pulled up into an elegant bun with a few loose pieces framing her face. Little diamond clips decorated her hair. It had been a decided improvement to her after-work outfit.
Her eyes trailed over to the woman sitting next to her. Cora was occupied in her phone, likely replying to a few business emails. Her fingers twitched across the keyboard, but her eyes rose to meet Jordan's. A smile crept over her lips.
“What?”
Alarmed, Jordan quickly averted her gaze while replying, “Oh, nothing.”
A soft giggle erupted from Cora. She didn't say anything else. Instead, she merely set her phone into her pocket book and placed a cautious hand on Jordan's thigh. The tingling erupted again. This time, the sensation completely engulfed Jordan. Curious fingers were stroking her dress and she wasn't sure how to respond, eying them every so often through the dim light coming from the street lamps.
The car pulled up to a restaurant and the hand retreated, causing Jordan to sigh slightly out of relief and disappointment. A long line of people was waiting outside all dressed in their best. The women fit in quite nicely with the crowd. To her surprise, Cora and Sierra walked straight past the line and towards the doors where a server held the golden handles. Jordan held up the edge of her dress slightly to catch up with the two powerful women.
The inside was much more elegant than the people outside. Everything was covered in velvet white sheets and formal black attire. The napkins weren't paper. Each table held enough room in between for those in attendance to speak freely. This was unlike the cramped restaurants downtown that were frequently packed to the brim with people resembling sardines.
