For Money or Love

by Heather Blackmore

  God, how to answer this simple question? Jess’s eyes wandered back to TJ and Muriel. Muriel said something that made TJ laugh, and Jess conjured another image of long tentacles reaching into the cabin to yank Muriel over the rails. Jess turned to Carmela. She could offer no reply but simply smiled.

  “If you’re looking for company, I’d be happy to make your acquaintance.”

  Was this woman flirting with her? How did women traverse this path? How could you tell if a woman was interested or merely being friendly? As flattered as Jess was to get Carmela’s attention, she wasn’t in the market. Not that it stopped her from slowly appraising Carmela’s incredible body. Carmela’s dress wasn’t leaving a lot to the imagination, and Jess could definitely appreciate the sight, but it was more as if she were viewing a work of fine art. It made her ask herself what it would be like to feel TJ’s skin against hers.

  Realizing she was staring, Jess raised her eyes. Carmela offered a smile. “I’m all set, thank you,” Jess said as she nodded and made her way over to TJ, who was watching her. Muriel was nowhere in sight.

  Handing the beverage to TJ, Jess was about to ask where Muriel went off to when TJ asked, “Who’s your friend?”

  Jess followed TJ’s gaze. “That’s Carmela.” She turned to TJ and asked cheerfully, “Would you like me to introduce you?” though she had no desire to initiate a meeting.

  “Did she hit on you?” TJ took a sip of her drink and kept her eyes on Carmela.

  “I’m not sure. I really don’t know how you tell, short of something concise and obvious such as, ‘Would you like to go out with me?’”

  “Did she ask to spend time with you?”

  Jess curled her lips with amusement. “Why? Are you jealous?”

  TJ rolled her eyes. “Please.”

  “You are. You’re jealous.”

  TJ slung her arm around Jess’s shoulders playfully and sized up Carmela. “Pfft. Of what, her Marilyn Monroe figure and a smile that could have started the Trojan War?”

  “Don’t forget the sexy accent.”

  “Seriously?”

  Jess held up two crossed fingers and bit her bottom lip in a failed attempt to keep a straight face. “Swear.”

  TJ removed her arm, much to Jess’s disappointment. “Details,” she said with a mock pout.

  “That’s okay, tiger. You can dance, and that’s what matters.”

  Meeting Jess’s eyes, TJ asked, “Yeah?” Gone was the kidding tone, as if TJ was really asking if she had something Jess liked.

  Jess nodded. “Yeah.”

  Their eyes met as they sipped their drinks. Jess felt something stirring between them and wanted to explore it. But she didn’t know how.

  At first it appeared as though TJ would make a move, perhaps ask Jess to dance or take her on deck to enjoy the view. The moment passed.

  “Where did you learn to dance, by the way?” Jess asked.

  “Library.”

  Jess stared at her. “Your library offered dance lessons?”

  TJ shook her head. “Video rentals. We couldn’t afford live dance lessons, so I found some instructional videos. Kara and I taught ourselves. It was a cheap form of entertainment and something we could do together. Those were the days before video games and cars commanded her attention.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Not as impressive as Car-mel-a.”

  Jess smacked TJ playfully on the arm. “Stop. You know I only have eyes for you, tiger.”

  The band changed from R&B covers to the classic swing-dance tune “Mack the Knife.”

  “Speaking of dancing, Muriel made me promise her one. I think that’s my cue.” TJ set her drink down and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Then she headed to the dance floor where Muriel waited with an outstretched hand.

  As TJ led Muriel around the dance floor, the pang in Jess’s stomach resurfaced. There was no doubt: she was jealous. She wanted TJ’s hands on her, not on Muriel. Watching the two move together adeptly was doing nothing to mitigate the feeling. Instead of stewing, Jess decided to head to the top deck and enjoy the city lights.

  The water was calm, the weather almost perfect. Now that the sun had set, there was a chill in the air, and Jess wished she’d brought a sweater. She turned slowly in a circle, taking in the views. Mindful of TJ’s earliest reprimand, she tried to appreciate a panorama she’d seen a thousand times. A number of couples were sharing some quality time on deck, and Jess found herself eyeing a pretty couple who were adorable together, kissing, nipping, laughing, snuggling. She didn’t usually stare, but something about these women made her gaze linger. What would TJ’s lips taste like, feel like? Having had TJ’s arms around her for part of the evening, she knew she enjoyed the closeness. She wished they were here as a real couple, not as colleagues trying to make an impression.

  “We meet again.” Jess turned to find Carmela approaching.

  “Hi, Carmela. It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?”

  “Lovely’s a perfect word for it,” Carmela said without taking her eyes off Jess.

  Okay. Jess was pretty sure Carmela wasn’t simply being friendly. She was being hit on. She smiled, silently congratulating herself for reaching that conclusion. She found something incredibly flattering about being the object of this Italian beauty’s attention and decided to let the situation run its course. TJ was otherwise occupied, and they’d come here in part to mingle.

  Conversation with Carmela was easy. She was a charmer and an undeniable head-turner. The faint Italian accent didn’t hurt matters. Muriel’s laughter shot out in the night sky, interrupting them, and both Jess and Carmela followed the sound with their eyes. On the other side of the deck, Jess spotted Muriel with TJ. They were standing close together—too close, in Jess’s opinion. Jess suddenly felt like a lobster in a heating pot. Then it was quiet, too quiet, and Jess realized Carmela had spoken. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “Those two.” Carmela inclined her head in Muriel and TJ’s direction. “You’re not happy about it.”

  Jess watched them while she decided how to respond. She saw no reason to lie. “Not particularly, no. But it’s none of my business.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Jess slid her eyes to Carmela. “What do you mean?”

  “You care about the younger brunette.”

  “Yes.”

  “But she doesn’t know.”

  “No,” Jess said.

  “Tell her.”

  Jess laughed mirthlessly. “Carmela, if I had half your charm and looks, I might have the confidence to do just that. As it stands, I don’t.”

  “You’re as beautiful and charming as they come, but the way she looks at you, you don’t need it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She has feelings for you. Explore it. Muriel will turn her attention elsewhere. And since I’m striking out tonight, who knows, maybe it will turn to me.” Carmela leaned in and spoke softly in Jess’s ear. “Bella, trust me. Go to her.” She kissed Jess on the cheek. “You can thank me later. Go.”

  Jess fixed her gaze on TJ, who gave her a beseeching glance before refocusing on Muriel. Steeling herself with a deep breath, Jess marched over to them and extended a hand to TJ. “Excuse us, Muriel.” She smiled to Muriel in part to soften the sting of the interruption and in part because it felt good to take charge.

  Jess tugged on TJ’s hand and led her to an empty section of the deck. Words poured out almost stream-of-consciousness. “I should say I’m sorry for interrupting. But I’m not. She’s wrong for you, TJ. Sure, she might be attractive. And confident. And clever. Not to mention charismatic and interesting. Pretty wonderful sounding, actually.” This was quickly spiraling off topic, and Jess felt heat in her cheeks. “Damn it. I’m not making sense. Shit. The thing is, I can’t stand seeing you together.”

  Confusion etched across TJ’s face like a cracked windshield. “You said you didn’t dislike her. I thought you wanted me to mingle wit
h her.”

  “I thought I did too.”

  “What’s changed?”

  Plan A wasn’t working, so Jess improvised with Plan B. “This,” she said as she slid her arms around TJ’s waist, rose onto her toes, and kissed her.

  Wide-eyed, TJ didn’t move. Deer-in-headlights was not the response Jess was looking for.

  Rapidly losing her nerve and thinking Plans A and B were falling into the Chevy Nova camp of bad ideas, Jess said, “Let’s try this again. Put your arms around me.” TJ complied. “Good.” Jess moved her hands behind TJ’s neck and pulled her close. “Now kiss me.”

  TJ’s expression morphed into understanding, then into—anticipation? Initially hesitant, TJ drew closer, never taking her eyes off Jess’s. The inches separating them dwindled slowly, slowly, and just before their lips touched, TJ closed her eyes.

  The kiss started gently, and Jess sank into it as if edging into a hot bath, so good it was almost painful. Yet it was over all too quickly. And far too chastely for Jess’s taste. Like Maria von Trapp, Jess was not cut out for the convent. She needed far more than TJ had offered. Her dismay at the prospect it had ended must have been conspicuous, quite possibly due to her vise grip around TJ’s shoulders. Or perhaps it was the whimper. Because TJ, who remained inches away, quirked a brow, dropped her gaze to Jess’s lips, and descended unhurriedly to capture them in a fiery kiss.

  Although Jess had previously liked TJ’s mouth for its expressiveness and shape, her appreciation of it was climbing precipitously. It was demanding, teasing, and marvelously skilled. She didn’t care that a soft moan escaped. It wasn’t as though TJ couldn’t tell she was enjoying this. Their tongues explored and tantalized while their hands leisurely wandered. Had they not been in a semi-public place, Jess wouldn’t have hesitated to slide a hand to one of TJ’s breasts and see what it was like to touch another woman that way. As the thought took shape, she became gradually aware of the lack of privacy and pulled out of the embrace. She cupped TJ’s cheek and offered another too-brief kiss.

  TJ took that hand and curled it in both of hers against her chest. Their eyes searched each other as if simultaneously processing what had just happened as well as lingering as long as possible in the intimacy of the moment. Jess broke the silence. “Roshambo for who speaks first?”

  The question made TJ smile, but after a quick brush of her lips to the back of Jess’s hand, TJ shook her head as if to say, “Not it.”

  “Is that how it always feels to kiss another woman?” Jess asked.

  Biting her lip as if uncertain how to respond, TJ shook her head again.

  “So that was just us?”

  TJ nodded.

  “Well, good. I’d hate to think I was missing out on that my entire adult life when I could have grabbed any one of my friends and gone to town.”

  TJ laughed. “You’re handling it well.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be up all night processing.”

  Stepping back as if to allow more space between them, TJ slid her hands into her pockets. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

  “True.”

  “At least now you can say you’ve kissed a woman.” TJ shrugged. “Cross it off the bucket list.”

  “You think that’s what I was doing? Ticking a box?” A prick of anger arose within Jess.

  “I’m not offended.” TJ appeared to take in the scenery, the twinkling city lights, and the couples dotting the perimeter, looking everywhere except at Jess. “If you ever wanted to try kissing a woman, you couldn’t have picked a better atmosphere.”

  “You’re going to go there? Completely downplay what just happened between us?” Jess was incredulous. TJ was usually the first to lose her cool whenever they argued, but Jess was doing nicely on her own, thank you very much.

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured into believing it was something special.”

  “I thought we established it was.”

  “It was,” TJ spoke softly, her attention on the ground between them. “It is.”

  The quiet admission caused Jess’s anger to dissipate like the air in a freshly untied balloon. She stepped toward TJ and took her hand. “Good. I want—no, I need your honesty. Is that something you can give me?”

  TJ nodded.

  Jess leaned close and whispered, “And something else.”

  “Name it.”

  “That mouth.” Jess first pointed to TJ’s lips and then her own. “Here. Now.”

  “Bossy,” TJ murmured before doing what she was told.

  *

  As expected, Jess couldn’t sleep. She felt good. She liked someone, and someone liked her. It was simple in a sixth-grade-crush kind of way, and she was okay with that. Simple lacked drama. All she could think of was reprising their roles from Hot Lesbian Kissing, Volume One.

  This should be harder, moving into the realm of girl-on-girl action. Girl-on-girl action? Was she suddenly a member of a fraternity? Whatever it was called, lesbian or bisexual or gay, she was game. TJ made her feel things she’d only ever had an inkling of. Dillon had been her first love, and their relationship held a special place in Jess’s heart. Attentive, fun, and faithful, he’d been her best friend first, lover second. Over time they’d learned how to please each other, Dillon an eager and giving partner, but something had eluded her.

  Or was that true? It had been ten years ago. She’d been young and, she thought, in love. Why question it? Comparisons weren’t helpful. They existed in romance novels with characters who never felt that way before. Yes, being with TJ felt wholly new and wonderful, but was part of her labeling TJ that way and telling herself she hadn’t been in love in order to justify the depthless choice she’d made at seventeen?

  Though she desperately wanted to be someone TJ could fall for, and all earlier signs tonight had been positive, it seemed a little too convenient to pretend TJ would overlook the kind of person Jess was. It had probably been an in-the-moment thing.

  And still, the cookie jar was too close. She was susceptible to its lure. Her happiness served as an amnesiac that allowed her to ignore the differences between them, the type of people they were.

  Tonight was about indulgence. It was about reaching for and drowning in the depths, breadths, and heights that poets wrote of. The heat between her and TJ had sizzled like oil in a hot pan, consuming her in the way of a wildfire through a drought-ravaged forest. She couldn’t wait to once again be set aflame. And TJ’s mouth. God, that mouth. She failed in her weak attempts not to let her mind wander to places that mouth could linger.

  She was being ridiculous, she knew, ascribing so much to a few kisses. Yet here she was thinking of sonnets, sizzle, and sex.

  Perhaps she’d have to rethink how little time she spent in the office.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Though thoughts of a certain blue-eyed blonde had completely dominated the rest of her weekend, TJ had awoken Monday with a clear objective: talk to Gary about being reassigned. She’d yet to get her hands on a single client record or any information related to the firm’s investments, and weeks were ticking by. Jess had kept her busy with projects, and in truth she was learning a lot. Jess had turned out to be a proficient teacher, managing to provide the right level of explanation without undermining her requirement that TJ think through issues on her own.

  Marketing, however, was merely a tangent of TJ’s assignment, and though she’d probably learned more about the field under Jess’s tutelage than during a semester in any classroom, TJ’s grade depended on writing about the thing that set Magnate apart: its investment strategy.

  Even if she took the tack that marketing was the thing that gave Magnate its edge, now that she was—what was the word? Involved with? No. Interested in?—Jess, someone could construe their relationship as giving TJ an unfair advantage over the other students, which was unacceptable. Regardless of whether TJ wrote the entire paper on her own, she was well aware of the power of perception. She would be solely responsible for what she turned in. But
would this action build trust in and credibility to the MBA program? If things between Jess and her progressed, anyone could point to their relationship and turn a skeptical eye as to whether TJ had received help with the case study. Her ethics demanded she either spin down what was starting to develop between them—which she had no desire to do—or move on to the investment side of the house.

  The latter was the only option. Her assignment was clear, and she was already woefully behind.

  Part of her did want to write a marketing case study to show to the world—to show her professors, at any rate—the infrastructure and processes Jess had built. TJ was proud of Jess’s work, which undeniably contributed to the success of Magnate. She wanted others to see how truly capable Jess was.

  But Jess didn’t want to let that secret out, and TJ wouldn’t be the one to out her. It had to be Jess’s decision.

  Everything kept coming back to TJ needing access to the investment records.

  The meeting with Gary hadn’t gone well. Either he didn’t understand the purpose of her internship or was refusing to grant her the access she needed to delve into the investments. In response to her request, he asked whether working with Jess was proving not to be valuable. TJ tried to explain that he misunderstood, but he didn’t budge. His take on it was that either she was learning how Magnate’s marketing machine ran, in which case there was no need to revise TJ’s reporting structure, or she wasn’t learning enough, in which case he would be discussing the matter with Jess.

  As had been their routine, TJ allowed Jess, ever the late arrival, to settle in before seeking a meeting. Then TJ would knock on Jess’s door frame and go over her questions or provide a status. Today, less than two minutes after Jess came in, TJ could hear her on speakerphone with Gary, who requested her in his office.

  Jess disappeared for a short time before returning and shutting the door. The only time TJ had seen Jess’s door closed was when the two of them met. Otherwise, Jess seemed to have an open-door policy because, in truth, no one else came to see her, so she rarely required privacy.