Going on Red

by Lyn Gardner

  Sunlight streamed in through a sizable glass block window on the far wall, and below it was a whirlpool tub spacious enough to hold two people or possibly three. To Kate’s left was a long black marble countertop, the veins of white in the stone matching perfectly with the two white porcelain drop-in sinks. A mirror ran the length of the wall behind the vanities, and avoiding it at all costs, Kate went over to a doorway next to the wash station. Looking around the corner, she found a toilet tucked into the alcove, a much-needed convenience after all the drinking she had done the night before.

  It wasn’t until Kate returned to wash her hands when she noticed something else on the vanity. Between the two sinks was a pile of clothes along with some towels and a toothbrush still in its packaging.

  A few minutes later, with the taste of tequila replaced by minty freshness, Kate was about to get undressed to take a shower, except when she turned to face the room, something was missing. Kate looked right. Kate looked left, and then Kate scratched her head. “Okaaay?”

  Kate walked from the bathroom only to come to a stop when she saw Brodie sitting on the edge of the bed. “Um…”

  “Let me guess,” Brodie said, humor dancing in her eyes. “You can’t find the shower?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “It’s happened before,” Brodie said, getting to her feet. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  As soon as they walked into the bathroom, Brodie pointed to the far corner of the room. “It’s right there, and now I’d best get back to the kitchen before I burn the bacon. Enjoy.”

  Kate went over to where Brodie had indicated, wondering how she could possibly miss a door, and then the penny dropped. The shower was the corner of the room, and what she had thought was a large square vent in the ceiling was actually the showerhead, its polished surface covered in a hundred tiny holes. A long L-shaped bench wrapped the corner, its surface covered in the same gray and black tile of the floor, and because of the design, Kate hadn’t noticed that quite a substantial section of the floor was four inches lower than the rest of the room.

  It was easy to see why the shower didn’t need walls; however, Kate did. The idea of being naked and completely exposed to whoever walked into the room was far outside her comfort zone. It would have been doable if a door existed she could lock, but it now seemed, at least in this area of Brodie’s flat, the woman didn’t believe in doors.

  Kate sighed and returning to the mirror, she tried her best to straighten her rumpled clothing before leaving the room in search of her host.

  The only thing separating the bedroom from the rest of the flat was a series of floor-to-ceiling room dividing panels. The inserts held black rice paper with an understated white bamboo design painted on the surface, and Kate’s admiration for the simplicity showed on her face as she walked from the room. On the other side of the panels was the dining area, and Kate’s smile grew broader. A bowed-front china cabinet filled the wall to her right, its shelves holding an eclectic collection of dinnerware in varying shades of black, blue, and white, and the rest of the space was taken up by a long, oval glass table. Six chairs stood at the ready around it, and in front of two, Brodie had arranged place settings, complete with cutlery, dishes, cups, and glasses filled with orange juice.

  Kate heard a noise, and taking another few steps, she turned the corner and saw Brodie, standing in a lengthy, galley-style kitchen, placing a platter of sausage and bacon into the oven. “This is quite a place.”

  “Thanks.” Brodie gave Kate a side-eyed glance as she shut the oven door and saw the woman had yet to get cleaned up. “What? You don’t like my shower?”

  “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just—”

  “You don’t feel you need one?”

  “No. It’s just a bit…a bit—”

  “Open?” Brodie said, picking up her coffee mug.

  “Yes.”

  “You should try it. You might like it. Cassidy does.”

  “My sister takes showers here?” Kate said, cocking her head to the side.

  “Yes. On the days we’re working together, Cassidy schedules her morning run so she ends up here. She says she loves the freedom my shower gives her, whatever that means.”

  “Do you have an aversion to doors?”

  Brodie snorted. “No, but most of the time, they aren’t really necessary. It’s just our own insecurities that make us think we need them.”

  Kate folded her arms. “So, you’re saying I’m insecure?”

  Brodie took a quick sip of her coffee, using her mug to conceal her amusement. It was rare she purposely tried to antagonize, but it seemed Kate’s fuse was almost non-existent, and Brodie enjoyed the spark in Kate’s eyes when it was lit. “Well,” she said, placing the mug on the counter. “When it comes to showers without walls and bathrooms without doors, then yeah, I guess I am.”

  “We’ll see about that!” Kate turned on her heel and marched back the way she came. Out of habit, as she stepped into the bathroom, Kate went to close the door that should have been there and then hung her head when she realized her mistake. "Shit.”

  Kate padded to the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her hair was a mess. Her makeup was smudged, and her clothes were hopeless. She took a deep breath, and grabbing the towels Brodie had set on the sink, Kate went over and turned on the tap for the shower. Piece by piece, her clothing dropped to the floor, and even though she doubted Brodie would intrude on her privacy, Kate couldn’t help but keep one eye on the doorway. With only her underwear remaining, Kate unclasped her bra, and as she stepped out of her knickers, she made a mental note to explain the importance of doors to her sister the next time she saw her.

  ***

  “Someone was hungry,” Brodie said as she gathered the plates.

  “Someone makes a great omelet.”

  “Thanks,” Brodie said, heading to the kitchen. “I’m going to get some more coffee. Would you like some?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Feeling as if she needed to loosen the borrowed track pants she was wearing, Kate leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. Even though she’d had time to get used to her surroundings, she couldn’t help but continue to admire Brodie’s home.

  Brodie’s condo filled the top floor of the last of the warehouses she’d inherited from her grandfather, and it was roomy and stylish. The lounge was unlike any Kate had seen before, for other than in a ski lodge, she had never seen a fireplace staged in the middle of a room. The circular stone hearth was complete with a stainless-steel hood overhead and noticing a small pile of wood stacked neatly on a rack in the corner, Kate guessed everything was in working order. The sofas and chairs circling the hearth were covered in gray faux suede, and pillows of all shapes and sizes were scattered about. Although the furthest wall had been painted black, a color Kate would never have chosen to use in a house, with the addition of a mixture of black-and-white photographs and charcoal sketches all framed in white, it acted as a perfect accent. Natural light flooded the room courtesy of the windows filling the wall to the right, and even though the sunlight was tempered by white sheers framed in smoky gray drapes, it was more than enough brightness for the space.

  Getting up from the table, Kate headed to the kitchen to see if Brodie needed a hand. Like everything else, the kitchen was modern and high-end. A galley design, one wall held both upper and lower black laminate cabinets while the other had only bases, allowing the countertop to overhang the six stools running down its length. The granite countertop was a blend of white, gray, and blue, and the stainless steel appliances were all state-of-the-art, as was the tiny wine refrigerator tucked under the counter.

  “This place really is amazing,” Kate said, watching as Brodie finished filling their mugs.

  “Thanks,” Brodie said, handing her the coffee. “It took me over a year of nights and weekends to get the design just the way I wanted it.”

  “Wait. You designed this place?”

  “Yep. Right down to the
lack of doors.”

  Kate laughed, and after taking a sip of her coffee, she looked past Brodie. “So, what’s on that side?”

  “Oh. That’s where I play. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  The door leading into Brodie’s flat was directly opposite the kitchen, and if Kate had been able to pay attention when Brodie brought her home the night before, she would have easily seen both sides of the condo. But Kate hadn’t been sober. She had barely been conscious, so when she followed Brodie through the kitchen and into the next room, Kate almost dropped her coffee cup.

  “Wow,” Kate said, looking from one end of the room to the other.

  While Brodie had designed the lounge and dining areas for intimate dinners and conversation, the other side of the condo was designed for partying and games. One wall was covered in black and gray cabinetry with the highest units having glass doors to protect the knickknacks displayed, while the next row was open and filled with dozens of books. Below that was a sizable flat-screen television, and under it were cubicles filled with stereo equipment, gaming consoles, and more books. A semi-circular sofa in the color of ash was sitting in front of the entertainment center, and instead of having a coffee table, huge pillows were stacked on the floor atop a white, fluffy, fake-fur rug.

  At the opposite end of the room was an octagonal card table surrounded by four chairs, and an electronic dartboard hung on the wall, but what really caught Kate’s attention was in the middle of the room. Under a rectangular stained glass light was a regulation size pool table.

  Kate went over and ran her hand over the dark blue felt. “You don’t do things half-arse, do you?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Brodie said, walking past. “Would you like to see the rest?”

  “There’s more?”

  “Just a bit. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  Kate followed Brodie past the card table to an arched opening leading to a small hallway. The first thing Kate noticed was a wrought iron circular stairway winding upward, and the second was a door off to her right. “Wait. I thought you didn’t believe in doors?”

  “No. I said that most of the time they aren’t necessary, but if friends or family stay over, I offer them some privacy,” Brodie said, opening the door.

  Kate stepped into a room equally as large as the master suite, but instead of using modern furniture, Brodie had chosen traditional. All the furnishings were dark cherry, and the four-poster bed was covered in a blue and white patchwork quilt. Noticing another doorway, Kate went over and peered into the guest bathroom. It held all the amenities, including a slightly smaller whirlpool bath.

  “It’s lovely,” Kate said, turning back to Brodie. “But I have to ask a question.”

  “Okay?”

  “How come I didn’t sleep in here last night?”

  “Because I had to practically carry you into the flat. It was late, and I was tired, and when you veered left, I veered left. I figured it was easier to pour you into my bed than try to maneuver you back here.”

  “That makes sense,” Kate said, walking out of the room. “So, what’s up those stairs?”

  “The roof.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  Brodie glanced at Kate’s socked feet and shook her head. “That’ll have to wait for another time if you don’t mind. It rained earlier this morning, and it’s cold. You’re not dressed for it.”

  “Okay,” Kate said, smiling. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to some more coffee. Shall we?”

  “Sure.”

  A few minutes later, the two women settled in the lounge, and setting her coffee to the side, Kate said, “So…um…did I do anything stupid last night?”

  “Define stupid.”

  Kate inwardly winced at the infinite possibilities of what she might have done. “Okay, how about…did I do anything I should regret?”

  Brodie’s face split into a grin. “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

  Kate’s cheeks flamed, and she shot Brodie a look. “Are you trying to wind me up?”

  “Is it working?”

  “Do you really want to find out?” Kate said, straightening her spine.

  “Relax,” Brodie said, holding up her hands. “All things considered, you were quite…um…quite behaved for a person who drank that much tequila.”

  “Define behaved,” Kate said, narrowing her eyes.

  “Well, you didn’t take off your clothes or try to dance on the tables, if that’s what you’re thinking. You just had a bit of fun with Harper, and then you insisted on dancing with me, and after that, I brought you here. End of story.”

  “I don’t remember dancing with you, and what kind of fun—exactly—did I have with Harper? It’s all just a blur.”

  With the amount of tequila Kate had consumed, Brodie wasn’t surprised. Once her dance with Harper ended, they returned to the table just as the second tray of shots was delivered. As soon as Harper picked up the first glass, she insisted that Texans could outdrink anyone, and a competition was born. Brodie watched as the two women drank shot after shot of the potent liquid, and in less than an hour, Harper and Kate were pissed to the gills. After Harper fell off her stool for the second time, Brodie asked a waitress to keep an eye on Kate while she put her old friend into a taxi, and when she returned a few minutes later to take Kate home, the woman refused.

  ***

  “I wanna dance with you.”

  “You’re drunk, and I need to take you home.”

  “You don’t like me!”

  Kate’s pout was the cutest Brodie had ever seen. “Yes, I do, and when you’re sober, ask me to dance, and I will. I promise.”

  “One dance. Pleeeeease.”

  “Kate, you’re totally pissed.”

  “Am not!” Kate said, stomping her foot.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Fine,” Kate said, and looking around, she spotted a man standing alone at the bar. “If you don’t wanna dance with me, maybe he will.”

  Kate listed to the right as she began weaving toward the bar, only to have her progress stopped when Brodie grabbed her hand. “Okay. One dance and then we go. All right?”

  “Yep.”

  At a snail’s pace, Brodie guided Kate to the dance floor, and it wasn’t until they stood under the flickering lights when Brodie realized she had made a mistake. In Kate’s alcohol-infused state, she was relaxed, almost fluid in her movements, and unabashedly she pulled Brodie close as they began to dance. Brodie inhaled the faint aroma of perfume, and closing her eyes, she allowed the woman in her arms to overpower her senses. Brodie’s body reacted instantly. Awakened by Kate’s curves pressed against her own, the surge of awareness heated her blood and moistened her knickers. Foreign as it was to Brodie, she knew that this was love. She had fancied others, but not like this. She had craved others, but not like this. Brodie had never wanted to die in someone’s arms…until now.

  The song ended, and another began, and its tempo was slow and sensual. The thump of the bass matched Brodie’s heartbeat, and when Kate melted into her, slipping one leg between Brodie’s, a low groan rose in Brodie’s throat. She stepped back to break the connection and glowered at the woman wearing a sloppy grin. “It’s time to take you home.”

  Kate gazed into Brodie’s eyes, and nodding her acknowledgment, she allowed Brodie to lead her to the door. She didn’t say a word as they made their way to the car. Her head was spinning, and her knees were weak, both easily explained by the amount of alcohol in her system, but that wasn’t the case…and the proof pulsed between Kate’s legs.

  Chapter Eight

  “Here you go,” Kate said, placing the tray over Devon’s lap. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

  As soon as Devon saw the bowl of soup in front of her, her eyes lit up. “Tell me that’s Mum’s recipe, and I’ll love you forever.”

  Kate smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I called her last night, and she e-mailed me the recipe, along with instructions
that you’re to stay in bed until you feel better.”

  “Trust me. I don’t plan on going anywhere feeling like this.”

  “Good,” Kate said, patting her sister’s leg.

  “Speaking of going places,” Devon said, picking up her spoon. “Brodie mentioned that you went to Outskirts last Friday.”

  “That’s right. I met her for a drink.”

  Devon stole a few glances of Kate while she slurped her soup. Like a dog with a bone, she had spent three days interrogating Brodie about that night until the woman finally caved. Devon knew her sister had gotten totally pissed when an old flame showed up, and she also knew the night had ended with a dance that Brodie refused to talk about.

  “You like her. Don’t you?”

  Kate drew back her head. “Of course, I like her. She’s a nice person.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  Kate played with a loose thread on the duvet for a few moments before raising her eyes. “With the way we were brought up, I honestly don’t think Mum could handle both of us dating women, so let’s just drop it. Shall we?”

  The only thing that dropped was the spoon Devon was holding, and clanking into the bowl, droplets of broth splattered over her pajamas. The color drained from Devon’s face. “What did you say?”

  Kate reached for the small glass tray on the nightstand and pulled out a pair of antique silver earrings. “I gave these to Gina last year for her birthday, and the leather jacket I gave her for Christmas a few years ago is hanging in your wardrobe.”

  Devon stared at the earrings as if they contained Ebola. Since her divorce, she had tried and failed to tell Kate the truth about herself, her fear based on so many stories from others who had lost families and friends. Devon took a deep breath. Even though she had joked about Gina telling Kate the truth, Devon knew it was on her…and the time had come. “Kate, you need to know that she wasn’t my first, so please don’t blame this on Gina.”