Hotel Liasion

by JLee Meyer

  After locking her door, she walked to the service elevator, deciding at the last minute to ignore it and take the stairs instead. Running up seven flights seemed like nothing, and she propelled herself into the room Jock and crew would start demolishing in the morning.

  She plugged in one of the portable lights and found the sledgehammer Jock liked to use. Without hesitation, she hefted it as though it were a baseball bat and started swinging, all the while screaming at Rochelle Jacobs, her brother George, her family, the Bohos, and anyone else she could think of. The plaster was reluctant to give at first but the rotten backing and boards didn’t last long against the onslaught. Again and again she swung, until her arms hung unresponsive at her sides. Then she kicked the wall repeatedly and when one foot ceased cooperating, she tried the other one, ending up in a heap on the floor, almost howling in frustration that she couldn’t force her body to work well enough to keep attacking the wall.

  Then she listed onto her side and lay in the midst of her destruction, chest heaving.

  “Having fun, Squirt?”

  Jock’s voice made her start. The gentle tease was at least better than “Stump,” and her tone bore no trace of mockery. She hauled Stef to a sitting position and supported her while she righted herself.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “You mean aside from the yelling and crashing?”

  “I guess I got a little…absorbed in what I was doing.” Stef couldn’t quite hide her embarrassment.

  Shaking her head, Jock said, “Poor Ember left her backpack up here and came to retrieve it. She got about ten feet from the door and came running back to tell us.”

  “Oh.” Stef was lucky to give that much of a response. She was spent.

  “I have to admire your work. Took a sizeable chunk out of the wall. Always looking for ways to cut costs, eh?”

  The gentle teasing paid off. Stef had to laugh at the comment. Jock was turning out to be a good person, nothing like the woman who tormented her in college. “Got to save those pennies. Wouldn’t want to mess up George’s new hotel. Prick.”

  Sitting back on her heels, Jock said, “I presume that’s George’s nickname and not mine.”

  Stef regarded her for a moment. “It used to be yours. You’re so different than the sports star I remember from school. What happened?”

  “That woman was an ass,” Jock said with a thoughtful expression. “I guess I realized it was time to grow up. I may have realized it too late to save you from my thoughtless words, but at least you had the good sense not to date me.”

  “I don’t recall being asked.”

  Giving her a look full of contrition, Jock quietly said, “Denny made it clear that she’d shoot me if I hurt you. I would never go against Den. Anyway, count yourself lucky.”

  “Why?”

  “I think we both know I’m not good partner material.”

  “Is that what you really think?”

  Jock reacted to Stef’s soft challenge with an offhand shrug and an evasive half-smile. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. I’m sure Laurel won’t want to wake up alone, and you’re covered in plaster and sweat. You need a shower.”

  “I need a few aspirin, too.” More like a bottle. Stef was beginning to hurt.

  Jock picked up Ember’s backpack and they strolled to the elevator.

  As they rode down, Stef said, “Would you handle the explanations to the troops? I don’t feel like facing them right now.”

  “No problem. And any time you need help kicking her partner, pardon me, her ex-partner’s ass, don’t leave me out of the fun.” Jock walked her to her door, adding, “I’m not kidding. I don’t like bullies.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” Stef touched her arm. “Thank you. For everything. You’re really a friend.”

  Jock smiled. “Glad you noticed.”

  Before the elevator door closed on her floor, leaving Jock to return to the dining room, Stef faced Jock and said, “Maybe the college kid wasn’t good partner material, but you would make any woman proud.”

  A few minutes later, as the warm water sluiced over her aching muscles, Stef found her thoughts wandering to Laurel and the magic of being with her. Although theirs seemed to be a shared attraction, she wondered if Laurel was just reacting to the events of the past few days.

  Jock’s comment about Laurel’s ex played in her mind. She seemed to assume Laurel was actually going to follow through and leave Rochelle permanently. Only time would tell if Laurel had broken free. The thought made her try to shutter her heart to protect herself, and that hurt her soul. It was no use, she’d fallen for the beautiful professor, and she was willing to wait for Laurel to make the decisions she would have to make. But if she returned to Rochelle, Stef would not, could not, stand by and repeatedly pick up the pieces.

  *

  The next morning Laurel awoke with a clear head and a body that, although painful, was on the road to healing. As she looked around the dingy room, she was content. Hearing a soft snore to her right, she realized that Stefanie was asleep beside her. Against the tightness of her lip, she smiled, inordinately pleased. Then, despite her better judgment, she reached over and gently brushed Stef’s hair from her face, so she could gaze at her.

  She studied the rich brown hair, the soft sensuous mouth she kept wanting to kiss, the pale flawless complexion, the slightly crooked nose. Imagining exploring Stef’s beautiful body, tracing her ears with her tongue and touching her spectacular breasts, made her wet, aroused. The reaction was almost foreign to her, it had been so long. Had she ever felt that way?

  Her face tingled with a blush as she tried not to react to her thoughts. Her struggle was interrupted by a deep, gravelly, voice.

  “Mornin’.” Stef stretched, and the covers came down low enough to show that she was wearing a loose-fitting tank that revealed the curve of a breast and the border of a pink nipple.

  Laurel’s body paid no attention to her mind’s desperate plea to stop reacting. She was so wet now that she was uncomfortable. She fought for control. Her own nipples were getting harder by the second, so she pulled her covers up to under her arms.

  “You’re red. Are you okay?” Stef’s voice seemed more like a croak.

  When she laid a hand on Laurel’s forehead, the warmth of it was almost Laurel’s undoing. She stayed perfectly still and tried to relax.

  “I don’t think you have a fever.” Stef had raised up to support herself on one elbow, revealing even more cleavage.

  It took a monumental effort for Laurel to tear her eyes away, since they seemed to be locked on Stef’s body. She managed, “A fever? I…don’t know.”

  “You’re blushing.”

  Laurel met the chocolate brown eyes she had been fantasizing about since the first day they met. “Yes.” She could not deny the truth.

  “Why?”

  The question was so innocent, the answer so simple. “Would you mind, please, covering your breasts? They’re… distracting.”

  Laurel desperately wished she could have made something up, but her brain had finally disconnected completely from her body. It was receiving signals farther south. Loud and clear. The realization of what she’d confessed must have sunk in, because Stef complied, at first rather shyly, but then a sly grin spread over her face.

  “Do you like them?” Now the gravel tone, though still there, had been replaced by a husky quality that only made Laurel’s resolve more precarious.

  “Oh, for God’s sake. Yes, yes, yes. They’re magnificent, beautiful, I could never imagine anything so lovely as your breasts.” Her exasperation must have been evident, because the grin was replaced by something more somber.

  “I don’t mean to tease you. If it helps, everything about you feels that way to me.”

  Laurel bolted upright and just as quickly fell back, pain stabbing her into stillness. Once her breath came back to her she said, “God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that I only admired your breasts, as…special as they a
re.” She hesitated. “Don’t you see? I’m completely entranced by everything about you. I have been since we first met. I have no right, no right at all. I should have left Rochelle long ago, but I didn’t. I should have stayed with Sika and Denny, but I didn’t. I wanted to be with you because I feel safe with you. Damn, even that is a lie.” She searched the room for the door, the urge to escape almost overwhelming her.

  Stef gently squeezed her arm, bringing Laurel’s attention back to her. “Why is it a lie?”

  Unable to skirt the truth any longer, Laurel sank back on the bed. “That isn’t why I wanted to stay with you.” Rolling carefully to face Stef, she said, “I think I’ve fallen in love with you. Bad timing, unrequited and all.” Tears seeped out of her eyes at the truth of her confession, the final nail in the coffin.

  After a moment, Stef asked, “What makes you think it’s unrequited?”

  “Because who could love a pathetic, miserable… Wait.” Studying the warm inviting eyes and the shy smile, she said, “What did you say?”

  “I said, ‘what makes you think it’s unrequited?’”

  Laurel started to reply only to find those fantastic lips meeting hers. Stef confirmed what had only been a wish, a whisper, and probably a prayer. She pulled Stef on top of her and they both yelped in pain and flew apart.

  “God, my ribs.” Laurel tried to calm her panting, because it hurt, then noticed that Stef was grimacing, too. “What’s wrong?”

  With a huff, Stef sat up. “I was working in one of the upstairs rooms last night and I’m sore today, that’s all.”

  Thinking about that, Laurel said, “I’ve been leaning on you a lot, too. I’m sorry.”

  Placing a hand on her shoulder, Stef smiled sweetly. “I went up to the remodel last night after you were asleep. I pretty much took down a wall. I’m sore, that’s all. It’s nothing.”

  Looking deeply into her eyes, Laurel understood. “Did the wall have a name?”

  “Yes. Fuckface.”

  A chuckle started deep in her belly but mushroomed into full guffaws. At the same time, Stef collapsed back on the bed and they both alternated between wheezes and groans because of all the sore and damaged muscles they were using. When they calmed down, they lay side by side on their backs, staring at the stained ceiling.

  Laurel asked, “Is it unrequited?”

  “What?”

  “You know what.”

  “Do you love me?” Stef’s voice shook slightly.

  Sighing, Laurel said, “Yes. I tried to be honorable, to control myself, to ignore my emotions, but I lost. I’ve fallen in love with you. I should apologize, but I won’t. But I hope for the courtesy of your honesty when you tell me if you return my love. I hope not to lose your friendship. That means so much to me.” Talking to the ceiling was so much easier than face-to-face. Almost like rehearsing her rather long speech.

  “Well, you’re no longer my friend, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Laurel’s heart stood still, she was sure of it. She’d blown it and didn’t know how to recover.

  “Because now you’ll be my lover.”

  Laurel could barely hear what Stef had said, her own recriminations were so loud in her head. “What?” She sat up abruptly, ignoring her protesting ribs.

  “I said, now you’ll be my lover. I’m in love with you, Laurel. Bad timing and all.”

  Gazing into the brown eyes that revealed the truth of Stef’s words, Laurel asked, “Now what?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Irina Castic was poring over papers spread on the kitchen table. When the nice young man from the delivery service had knocked on her door the other day, she was surprised to see him. It had been such a long time since anyone had needed to see her identification and passport, and he was evidently quite taken with the importance of his task. It was probably a novelty to him.

  She was uneasy, though, because her memories of producing passports and proof of identity were many times filled with dread. She was often amazed at how cavalier Americans were about the freedoms they possessed. As though they would have them forever. She’d read a quote once from an American statesman, she couldn’t remember who it was. “The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.” How true that was. If people only knew how much their lives were controlled and decided upon by a few powerful men, they might understand that they could take nothing for granted.

  The Elysium Society had learned that lesson brutally. But arrogance might just get their enemies yet. Irina couldn’t help but laugh to herself at the irony. It would be wonderful if a group of women could teach those Bohos a lesson.

  “What’s so funny, Mrs. C?” Ember was busy loading her pack and tidying up her sleeping area, which doubled as the living room sofa, so she could take the train to school. Irina had never been on it, this Bay Area Rapid Transit train. She wouldn’t go under the bay to get to Berkeley. A tube underwater! There was no way, even with Ember’s gentle teasing and offer to hold her hand.

  She regarded her young friend. Ember was a beautiful woman by any measure. She never spoke of her past, but Irina knew she came from a life of privilege. It took one to know one. Slowly she’d come to think of Ember as the grandchild she’d never had. She was a special child, intelligent, strong, and brave, and full of compassion. And she needed to attend university as a full-time student. If filling out all of these papers from hell could assist, Irina would gladly do it. After all, Ember had done all of the research and kept the matter alive. Now it looked like something might actually come of it. Irina hoped the desired resolution would come about sooner than later. Ember needed to get on with her life. She shouldn’t be stuck in a cheap set of rooms with one old lady.

  “Mrs. C?” Ember was still waiting for her answer.

  “My dear, do you have a moment before you leave?”

  Smiling, Ember said, “Sure.” She sat in a chair across from Irina. “What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if your family knows where you are. If they know you are safe.”

  From the look on Ember’s face, Irina had caught her off of her guard.

  “I…wrote a note to say I was okay. You won’t call them, though, right?”

  “Goodness, no. I wouldn’t know how and I wouldn’t betray you like that. We are friends. But…” Irina didn’t know how to ask.

  “Why did I run away?” Ember did her the favor of reading her mind. Lovely child.

  “Yes. I don’t believe you were abused, you seem to have too much self-confidence for that. But something pushed you out that door. What was it?”

  Ember studied Irina’s face for a moment, perhaps deciding whether to trust her with her secret. “My mom died when I was ten. My father always plied me with everything I could ever want. It wasn’t anything more than all of my friends had, we were spoiled brats. He was gone all the time. That’s pretty normal. Their parents were never there, either. I had a series of nannies. Not just one nanny at a time, I mean, they took shifts. I could literally drop a soda in the middle of the living room at two a.m. and someone would be there to clean it up. It was pathetic.”

  Nodding, Irina said, “Yes, I understand. But if you knew no differently, and you weren’t beaten or molested, how did you come to run away?”

  “Heather.”

  “Ah. The famous Heather. You’ve mentioned her before. You fell in love and your father forbade it?”

  Shaking her head, Ember said, “Well, I fell in love, but I don’t think Heather noticed. She was a sophomore in college and became one of my many nannies. The pay was good and the hours could work with her classes. She talked to me like I was human, she actually liked me.” Giving Irina a sad smile, she added, “And she worried about me.”

  “Why, my dear? You had your life before you with no financial worries.”

  “I was surprised, too. She worried because of that. I didn’t know how to take care of myself, I was lucky I could get dressed without help. Talk about shallow. I had no idea about poverty, about human suffering, abou
t kindness. That’s what worried Heather.”

  Sitting back in her chair, Ember stared at the ceiling. “She became my friend. I was only fourteen when she started working for us. I looked forward to every minute with her. She taught me to at least not treat my other nannies like slaves, she demanded that I make really good grades, even though I could have skated.”

  “What did your friends think of her?”

  “They ignored her. She was ‘the help.’ It kind of became Heather’s and my private joke, with lots of eye rolls when they did some vacuous thing and expected Heather to wait on them. I got so that I didn’t have anyone over if she was going to be there. Then they accused me of having an affair with her. Bitches.” The hurt in Ember’s voice was raw.

  “You said you were in love with her. Did you have an affair?”

  “No. I mean, I would have, in a second, but Heather would never betray my trust like that. She told me she loved me like a sister, and maybe someday we might be more, but we both had growing up to do. She quit as my nanny after she graduated from college.”

  Irina was struck by the pain so evident in Ember’s eyes. “What happened then? You must have missed her terribly.” She wanted to reached across the papers scattered on the table and take Ember’s hand, but she resisted. Ember was talking and she didn’t want to interrupt.

  Tears rolled down the planes of Ember’s face. “She was determined to do some good in the world. She was a teacher and got a job in New York City, working with inner-city youth. We e-mailed every day and she was full of stories about how the kids were responding, how great they were. She was really happy and I was happy for her.”

  Sniffing loudly, her voice was halting as she spoke. “I promised her I’d keep up my grades and I did. I kind of fell back into my old ways, though. It was easy enough to do. I could never talk Dad into just getting rid of the damned nannies, so, what the hell?” She hugged herself, perhaps against the memory.

  “What happened, Ember? Please, tell me.” She braced for the answer.