One Little Letter: A Bad Boy, Second Chance Romance (Office Escapades Book 1)

by Robin Edwards

  Sipping her tea, Ginevra tamped down her desire to check her messages and make sure everything was still running smoothly in Washington. She knew that if anything major had happened Sam would have called, but the urge was nearly instinctual. Finish your food, she told herself, and then you can check your messages.

  Luckily for her resolve, another woman soon arrived and completely monopolized Ginevra’s attention. She was a little shorter than Ginevra, but very slender, with large black almond-shaped eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across a narrow nose. Her luxurious black hair was cut in a highly angled bob that began at the base of her skull and ended at her collarbone, finished off by short, straight bangs. But the harsh lines of her hair only accentuated her delicate features and exposed the stem-like curve of her neck. She was wearing tight black jeans and yellow scoop-necked shirt and carrying a clipboard. She did not look like a guest.

  As Ginevra watched, trying to be surreptitious, the woman snagged a banana from the fruit bowl and poured herself an enormous coffee, which she began drinking before even getting to a table. Sprawling in a chair with a sigh, the woman tossed her banana, coffee, and clipboard on the table in front of her and dredged a phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. She didn’t even glance at the view – or Ginevra – and, instead, focussed on her phone, scrolling through whatever she was reading with a frown.

  Ginevra thought she was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.

  After a moment the woman threw her phone down on the table with a disgusted sound.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Ginevra asked.

  The woman jumped. She hadn’t even realized Ginevra was there. She smiled wryly. “Yeah, can you believe it?” Glancing out at the ocean, she pulled a face.

  “Everywhere has its underbelly,” Ginevra smiled. “You want to talk about it?”

  The other woman looked tempted, but then she shook her head. “You’re a guest,” she said. “You’re here to relax, not listen to the staff’s problems. It would be pretty unprofessional. Sorry to bother you.”

  “Not at all,” said Ginevra. “I work in politics. There are days when I can’t even remember the word professionalism.”

  This drew a chuckle from the other woman, but she stayed firm and gathered up her things. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be okay. I should let you get back to the view. I’m Helen, by the way. And thanks. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.”

  “Ginevra. Gina,” Ginevra smiled. “And I’d like that.” She didn’t mention that she found the view greatly improved with this woman in it.

  “Nice to meet you, Gina,” the woman smiled and left. Ginevra watched her walk away, enjoying her pert bum swish in its tight black jeans.

  That night, after a long, jasmine-scented soak, Ginevra crawled into her massive bed and lay on her back, enjoying the novel sensation of being completely unneeded. She knew she would be chomping at the bit for a few days but, for the moment, she would enjoy this while it lasted. Idly, she wondered if Helen lived in the resort complex or if she went home every night. She hadn’t seen a wedding ring.

  It was probably thanks to these last, drifting thoughts that Ginevra woke up gasping later that night, smooth thighs rubbing together as her body searched for release. She’d been dreaming about Helen. They’d been in her bathtub together, the other woman straddling Ginevra, her bird-like torso arching back across Ginevra’s knees as Ginevra slid her fingers deeper and deeper into her. Her angular haircut had been wet, and tendrils had stuck to her glistening neck and breastbone as she moaned around Ginevra’s fingers in her mouth. Lying in bed, chest heaving, Ginevra could still feel the pulse of Helen’s hips bucking against hers and groaned. She didn’t just need a vacation – she needed to get laid.

  It took a long time for Ginevra to get back to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Despite her interrupted sleep, the next day was a blissful haze. Ginevra wandered from early morning yoga to a delicious breakfast, to the hot springs, and then to lunch on the patio in the sun, where she sent Sam a selfie to prove that she really was relaxing. Sam replied with a jumble of indecipherable emojis that Ginevra took to be supportive. By the time her afternoon acupuncture appointment rolled around, she felt about as tense as wet wool.

  Acupuncture was done in a simple, two-room cabin at the far end of the English garden. The main room had an enormous skylight looking up at the redwoods that lined the far edge of the property. As Ginevra craned her neck to get a better view, the door to the back room opened, and Helen appeared.

  “Oh,” she said, startled. She smiled. “Hello again.”

  “Hi,” said Ginevra as she tried not to think about last night’s dream. “I take it you’re Dr. Cho?”

  “And you’re G. Sachs?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Well, it’s great to see you again. Let’s get you comfortable on the table. If you want to just take your top off and lie on your stomach, I’ll be right back.” Helen smiled again and disappeared back into the other room.

  Ginevra did as she was told and lay down on the padded massage table, her head resting on her crossed arms. She heard rather than saw Helen come back in – the door opened and closed, and then there was silence for a moment. Curious, Ginevra tilted her head ever so slightly so that she could see over her shoulder. Helen was looking at her in a way that made Ginevra tingle.

  “Okay, let’s get down to business,” said Helen, pulling herself together. “Is there anything, in particular, you’d like me to treat?”

  Ginevra propped herself up on her elbows, letting her back arch and exposing the voluptuous curve of her breasts. It wasn’t really appropriate doctor’s office behavior, but Ginevra was feeling provocative. “No,” Ginevra said, using the soft purr that she used whenever she really wanted to get her way. It knocked men out on the spot. “I just want to relax a bit.”

  Helen cleared her throat, making an apparent effort to keep her eyes on Ginevra’s face. “Right,” she said. “Well, would you like me to start with some reflexology? It’s like a massage but hitting specific pressure points. A lot of our clients love it.”

  “I’m all yours,” said Ginevra.

  “Lucky me,” said Helen. The two women caught each other’s eye, and Helen gave that same wry smile Ginevra had seen the night before. “Sorry,” she said. “You seem to have a very damaging effect on my professionalism.”

  Ginevra laughed low and throaty. “I really don’t mind,” she said.

  Helen bit her lip and turned away, opening a pot of oil that smelled of cinnamon and cloves. “Just try to relax,” she said, scooping a fair amount of oil into her palm.

  Ginevra smiled and laid her head back in her arms.

  Slowly, Helen worked the warm oil along Ginevra’s neck and the base of her skull, her fingertips briefly running through Ginevra’s thick hair in a way that made her shiver with delight. Helen’s hands were small but strong and well trained and, as she worked her way down Ginevra’s spine, she found knots of muscle that Ginevra hadn’t even known she’d had. Ginevra could have stayed like that forever, her skin hyper sensitive, her muscles melting under Helen’s touch, her pussy warm and pulsing. Helen used her thumbs to massage along the sides of her ribcage, their tips momentarily brushing the sensitive skin of her breasts. Forgetting herself, Ginevra moaned into her arms, her breath growing ragged.

  “Let’s get the needles in you,” said Helen softly, trying to regain control of the situation. Her hands left Ginevra’s skin, and Ginevra wanted to cry at a loss. She heard Helen washing her hands and the crinkle of plastic as she opened the first thin needle. Ginevra pouted.

  With practiced ease, Helen swabbed the insertion sites and flicked the needles into Ginevra’s muscles so deftly that the other woman didn’t even realize she had needles in her until Helen said, “Okay, all done. Now just lay back and try not to move. We’ll leave them in for half an hour. Most people find they fall asleep right away. Would you like me to put on some music?”

>   Ginevra was silent for a minute and then said, “Would you stay with me?”

  “I…”

  “I’m used to having people around me all the time. I like being with people. Just…would you stay and talk to me?”

  She heard Helen sigh. “Of course,” said the acupuncturist. “What would you like to talk about?”

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  Helen gave a dry laugh. “There’s not much to tell. Grew up here on the coast. The usually driven family. All the classic immigrant clichés: I did very well in school, my family wanted me to be a doctor, marry a lawyer, the usual.”

  “Aren’t you a doctor?”

  “Yes. But not the right kind of doctor. My parents were appalled when I finished med school and went back to China to study traditional medicine. But I like having that mix of knowledge. And besides, I needed to get out of here for a bit. I’d spent my whole life stagnating in California suburbs.”

  “And the lawyer?” Ginevra asked, fighting the wave of drowsiness that was threatening to overtake her.

  Helen laughed again. “I dated a law student during college for a few months. But I couldn’t exactly bring her home. My parents only recently found out about my…leanings. My father disowned me.”

  “Seriously?” Ginevra wanted to sit up, but Helen caught her in time, resting one hand on her hair to keep her from moving.

  “Yeah, seriously. And now my mom’s incurable – cancer - but my dad won’t let me see her, let alone help treat her. I mean, I’m not saying that acupuncture can cure cancer, but it can help manage the pain and alleviate a lot of the symptoms. But he won’t let me anywhere near her. My brothers have to send me updates. They try to implement whatever suggestions I make – if it comes from them my father listens – but they can only do so much. They’re both accountants. And so far my dad has refused to bring in another Chinese doctor. He came here because he believed in the American dream and now he refuses to have anything to do with China and our culture and traditions. It’s such a stupid waste. I mean, it’s not like I’m asking him to take her out of chemo…just to let me help!” Helen cried out, frustrated. Then she remembered who she was talking to. “Christ, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I swear I’m usually way more professional.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Ginevra mumbled, losing the battle with sleep. “Your mother’s got cancer. That’s an entirely good reason not to be professional.”

  Helen snorted. “Just let yourself go to sleep, Gina,” she said. “You don’t need to listen to my moaning.”

  “My mother died,” said Ginevra softly, “when I was a teenager. It destroyed my dad.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Helen.

  “It’s okay. It was years ago. She had cancer too. Who doesn’t these days? Breast cancer. Back then nobody did those self-exams and everything. It took her nearly a year to die.”

  “God,” Helen whispered.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to scare you.” It was getting harder and harder to form words. “But if you want to talk, I’m here all week. I mean it. I know you don’t know me from a hole in the wall, but I…I know how this feels.”

  “Thanks,” Helen whispered. Gently, she took Ginevra’s hand in her own, stroking the back with her thumb. “I could do with a friend right now,” she admitted.

  “My…pleasure…” said Ginevra as, finally, she fell asleep.

  When Ginevra came to, Helen was taking needles out of her back. “Nngh,” she mumbled. “How long was I out?”

  “Twenty minutes or so,” Helen smiled. “How do you feel?”

  “Amazing,” said Ginevra. “You really are good at this.”

  “Well,” Helen smiled self-deprecatingly, “I have been doing it for over a decade now.” She slid the last needle from Ginevra’s skin and patted the other woman’s back. “All done. You can sit up.”

  Without thinking, Ginevra did just that, stretching her arms above her head. Helen froze, holding the used needles in one hand. A faint blush rose in her cheeks as her eyes darted across Ginevra’s lean torso and generous breasts. She met Ginevra’s eyes, and Ginevra smiled predatorily. “Do you like what you see?” she asked coquettishly.

  “I think you already know the answer to that,” Helen replied drily, turning away to dispose of the needles in the hazardous waste receptacle.

  Ginevra chuckled and stood up, pulling on her bra.

  “So, are you taking advantage of a fellow lesbian’s family crisis to get laid or do you actually want to be friends?” Helen asked.

  “The latter,” Ginevra replied, correctly interpreting the question as the half-joke that it was. “But I wouldn’t say no to the former. It’s been a while if you want to the honest truth. And the way you go around in those skinny jeans is nearly criminal.”

  Helen’s lips twitched, and she eyed Ginevra appraisingly. “How long did you say you were here for?” she asked again.

  “A week. Then I’m touring around some vineyards. My assistant says I need to ‘go big or stay home’ because there’s no point in a one week vacation – it’s basically just a long weekend.”

  “Very wise,” said Helen.

  Ginevra chuckled. “Well, that’s certainly the first time I’ve heard Sam referred to as smart, but I’m sure she’d be pleased.”

  “Well, do you want to grab a drink tomorrow night? Just a drink. I’m not going to sleep with a guest.”

  Ginevra nodded. “I would love that,” she replied. “And, just out of curiosity…do you like wine?”

  “Yes,” Helen replied, apparently trying to figure out where this was going.

  “I only ask because I don’t really know the area and I thought it might be fun to have a local show me around a bit between wine tastings. Next week, I mean. After I leave the resort.”

  Helen smiled. “I’m sure we could find someone to help you out,” she replied.

  “The staff at this place really do go above and beyond,” Ginevra said.

  “We aim to please,” Helen gave Ginevra a crooked smile. “Tomorrow night then?”

  “Tomorrow night,” Ginevra agreed. “And thanks – I really do feel great. That reflexology massage was fantastic.”

  “Anytime,” said Helen. “I’m here all week too.”

  Ginevra nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Chapter Four

  The next night, Ginevra waited on the patio for Helen to be done her shift. She was wearing her favorite summer dress. At first glance, it looked perfectly casual with its lace detailing, cute capped sleeves, and short-but-not-that-short skirt. But the keyhole neckline provided a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, and the thin fabric clung to her curves in all the right places. In celebration of her vacation, Ginevra hadn’t straightened her hair since arriving, and her curls made a dark, hazy halo around her head.

  “Hi, sorry, there’s always some last minute paper…work…” Helen paused in the middle of stuffing a binder into a cloth satchel. Judging by her expression, Ginevra looked as good as she felt. “You look…” Helen began. “I feel underdressed,” she finished, glancing down at her striped shirt, usual black jeans, and black lace-up boots.

  “I dunno,” said Ginevra. “I’ve always liked the androgynous look.”

  Helen laughed, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. “Well, I’ll go butch tonight then, shall I? My car’s just this way.”

  They drove into the next town, pulling up at an empty restaurant that, in any other circumstances, Ginevra would have driven right by.

  “It doesn’t look like much, but they do the best fish and chips on the West Coast,” Helen informed her, killing the engine. “And have an excellent selection of local craft beers. Plus, we won’t run into anyone from the resort here.”

  “Perfect,” said Ginevra.

  Helen led the way into the restaurant, choosing them a table on a large wooden balcony that jutted out over the dark water. It was strung with strings of warm, white lights, giving the place a festive ai
r, despite the quiet. There were only a few other couples on the balcony, and the only sounds other than their soft conversations were the far-off waves and the faint strains of Leonard Cohen’s Sisters of Mercy.

  “Very quaint,” Ginevra said.

  Helen smiled, settling herself across from Ginevra. “I guess it’s not much compared to what you’re used to in Washington. Sally told me you’re some kind of crazy PR spin wizard over there.”

  Ginevra laughed. “Well, I don’t know if I’d describe my job in exactly those terms, but yeah, something like that. And don’t worry. I like this. Like idyllic California, the glitzy political life has its downsides. It’s nice to try something different.”

  “Fair enough,” Helen allowed.

  They ordered quickly and settled back to watch each other and the ocean, making small talk as they skirted the bigger issues. It wasn’t until the last of their fish and chips had been carted off, and Helen was on her second beer that she asked, “What happened to your dad?”

  Ginevra sipped her gin and tonic thoughtfully. “He had a heart attack a few years after my mom died, in my first year of college. He went quickly, at least. But he never really recovered after she died. He tried. He knew I still needed a dad, but there was only so much he could do. My aunt took care of me for the most part.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Helen.

  Ginevra shrugged. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

  “Did they know you were gay?” Helen asked.

  Ginevra shook her head. “My aunt did. And I think my mother guessed. But I was still working up the courage to tell my father. I don’t think he would have taken it well. But that’s a moot point now, I guess.”

  “Do you regret not being able to tell him?”

  “I don’t really know,” said Ginevra. “Sometimes yes and sometimes – like when I think about how badly he could have taken it - no.”