by Lynn Galli
“I’m so sorry.” I felt my heart clench for her. She hadn’t been much older than Caleb when he lost Megan. “Did you move in with one of her relatives afterward?”
“No, she didn’t have anyone.”
“Foster care?” I prodded when she didn’t continue.
“For a while.”
“After that?”
She looked back at me, a mixture of frustration, apprehension, and sadness tainting her expression. “Youth detention.”
“Oh, M.” I inched forward on the couch, but she pulled into the corner of her chair.
“I hurt someone when he tried to hurt someone else.”
“You were sentenced to Juvie for that?” I couldn’t get my brain to process that. As far as I knew, self-defense of others was a legitimate legal defense.
“No, but the foster system wasn’t set up for violent wards of the state. Only one place is.”
“You’re not violent.” I didn’t have any personal knowledge to make my declaration, only the certain belief that this woman could never hurt anyone unless she was protecting herself or someone she cared about.
She stared at me like I was crazy. “You can’t know that. I dislocated someone’s shoulder then broke his wrist and nose, easily and without conscious thought or regret.” As startling as that was to imagine, I knew there had to be a reason. “What was he doing?”
Again, she turned back to the fireplace. “He was trying to rape the girl who shared the room with me.” Jesus! “You stopped him?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not violent, M.” I wanted to reach out and pull on her chin to get her to face me, but she was too far away.
“Whenever Kathryn asked you what you wanted to do for the day, what did you say?”
Her head whipped back around as I’d intended with my non sequitur. A flicker of emotions glistened in her eyes. Surprise and gratitude added to the others I’d seen before. “Ice skating.”
“Really? We’ll have to go this winter with Caleb and Hank.” My suggestion prompted a raised eyebrow, telling me she’d like that. I was beginning to realize why it was easy for her to be so quiet. She had such an expressive face. For someone who got to know her, words were almost unnecessary. “You’re probably going to leave me in the dust when we bring out the rollerblades, aren’t you?”
She smiled tentatively. I’d stay just long enough to make sure she knew that I was okay with what she’d shared, but not long enough to make her regret asking me inside. I felt confident that we’d just crossed over from being friendly colleagues to genuine friends.
Chapter 19
"How’s the dating going?” Jessie stopped by the bicep curl machine where I was trying to keep from growling out loud.
I suppressed the urge to glare at her for buying this machine and putting it in her health club, but I couldn’t hold it against her. I’d chosen to use it, and she was my friend. “It’s like a train wreck, and although I may have the best car on the train, it doesn’t make the wreck any more enjoyable.” She laughed, causing others nearby to turn and stare. Jessie always posed quite a sight, drawing stares whether she was laughing or not. Especially since she was no longer in her workout clothes but dressed for a night out. Her long wavy mane was wrapped in a casual updo with tendrils framing her lightly made up face. It really should be illegal to be that gorgeous, not that I’d turn her in. “That bad, huh?”
“Does Caroline hate me or something?” I quipped.
“Maybe a little bit.” She held up two fingers spaced an inch apart. “They won’t tell me who they’re setting you up with.” She seemed saddened by this, probably because she might have firsthand knowledge of the women I’d dated.
“Erin, Cindy, Rachel, Vicki, Linda, and Polly,” I listed with as much enthusiasm as I gave to counting the reps on this machine.
“Goodnight nurse! Polly?” Lauren exclaimed incredulously as she snuck up on us. Equally dressed to kill, she slipped into her partner’s arms for a hello kiss then turned back to me. “Don’t tell me they set you up with Polly?”
“Last Saturday, two hours of my life that felt like two years.” My comment drew chuckles from both as they stole a glance that said how glad they were to be off the dating market. I knew just how they felt.
“I’m surprised it only lasted two hours. I can barely shake her loose after an hour at the courthouse. What is Caroline thinking?” Lauren looked the question at Jessie.
“They’re thinking they finally have another victim who’s too polite to do anything to stop them.” Jessie grinned. “Our friend Austy used to let them wrangle her into dates.”
“Actually,” Lauren started with a raised brow, “I found out that she only let them set her up. She’d cancel then tell Car, Isa, and Des that the date didn’t work out. Sly girl.”
“Genius girl,” I muttered.
“We can talk to them for you.” Jessie offered to run interference. “You don’t have to let them set you up.”
“Yes, let us introduce you to some people. If you like them, you can take it from there. No pressure.” Lauren looked eager but without the devious glint of my two current pimps, Caroline and Isabel. “Jess, who would be good for Briony? What about Penelope?” She indicated the pretty trainer who was in the process of torturing some man with abdominal lifts.
“She’s nice, great work ethic, considerate of the members.
You might like her,” Jessie confirmed rather unenthusiastically.
“Or Kylie’s sweet and Jenna, you’ve always been friendly with her, Jess,” Lauren continued. “Nicole or Olympia, c’mon, help me think.” As each name rolled by, Jessie started looking a little pale.
Lauren paused when she noticed and slipped her arms around Jessie’s waist. “Darling, I told you that the person these women think they know is not the woman I married. They can think they know you, but they don’t. Only I do.”
Jessie’s smile brightened our little area. She leaned in and whispered something in her spouse’s ear, causing a matching smile to erupt on Lauren’s face. She tilted back and gave me a sheepish look. “Pardon me, Bri. Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am, and I just have to make sure she knows it.”
“I’d say you’re both pretty lucky.” I watched them with warm envy, not the jealous kind, just the wistful wish to have that again.
But I’d had it once, and that was one more time than a lot of people get.
“So, what do you think? Would you like us to introduce you around?” Lauren offered without making it sound like I was deficient for not having a girlfriend.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m ready to date, but God, it’s tedious. Why can’t you just meet someone and click? Get to know each other, become friends, and if something happens, it happens?” I mused not allowing myself to admit what I knew was becoming true for me.
Lauren bent her five-eleven frame to look me in the eye. “Do you have someone specific in mind?” Her blue eyes danced in delight before tapping a hand against her partner’s shoulder.
“Jessie, torture her. I want a name.”
We laughed at her demand. “No, it’s just, there’s this woman at work. She’s unusual, the really good kind, you know? I enjoy spending time with her. I enjoy her, but I don’t know if she’s gay, and we work together, and she hasn’t sent any signals that she’s interested in me, so it’s nothing.”
“Briony, that’s wonderful!” Lauren bounced excitedly, the silk of her green dress rippling with movement.
“Did you not hear what I said?” I kidded. “I don’t know her sexual preference, and even if I did, she’s shown nothing but professional courtesy while at work and guarded friendship away from work.”
“That’s only half a problem. We’re bound to figure out her preference. This isn’t that big of a lesbian community. Someone we know has got to have confirmation. As far as the guarded part, well, maybe she just takes a little while to warm up to people.” Lauren’s sunny outlook was almost catching. “Who is it? May
be we already know.”
I didn’t immediately respond. It felt like I was giving up someone’s secret, but of the friends, these two could keep it to themselves. “Her name is M Desiderius.” Lauren frowned in thought, but Jessie’s frown looked more like worry. “Hmm, no, sorry, I don’t know her. Darling?” She looked at her partner.
“She’s a member here,” I supplied when Jessie didn’t. “She’s also friends with Willa. Pretty good friends, I think.”
“Oh, well, Willa probably won’t know. She’s annoyingly respectful of people’s privacy,” Lauren scoffed humorously. “Is she just a member or do you know her, Jess?” Again, Jessie seemed to hesitate. “She’s quiet, dedicated, thoughtful but takes things pretty hard. I used to train her at the old gym She doesn’t like small talk, and she doesn’t answer personal questions, which made our training sessions pretty quiet. But I always liked her and still do.”
“Is she gay?” Lauren asked the pertinent question for me.
“I don’t know for sure.” Her response was a relief. Nothing like finding out the woman you’re interested in has already been with the most gorgeous woman in town.
“But you have an inkling?” I asked, fighting the impulse to cross my fingers.
She glanced away, checking the position of everyone in the room. Either she was concerned that her trainers weren’t doing their jobs correctly or she didn’t want anyone to overhear what she was about to say. “I thought I saw her once.”
“Where?” Lauren and I asked together.
“A club. If it was M, she’s gay.” Her brown eyes flipped back to mine with a hint of apology and concern. “But I didn’t get a good enough look to be sure, and the M I know doesn’t seem outgoing enough to enjoy the club scene.” While fleeting, it was still hope. I wasn’t sure if I was interpreting the caution in Jessie’s eyes correctly, but at least I had something to hang my hopes on.
* * *
My best and most annoying student, Avery, would be the death of me. He was currently leading the class down a path that had nothing to do with the topic I’d introduced. Several of the students groaned when he started on one of his rants and I wanted to join them. Instead, I glanced up at the third row and caught the curve of M’s lips as she reined in a smile. We shared a withering look, appreciating the student’s enthusiasm but knowing we couldn’t let it continue.
“Good point, Avery,” I cut him off. “But it’s not something that can be proven absolute during class. So, why don’t we get back on topic and discuss exit strategies? Anyone?”
“Leveraged buyout,” Cecily, the only female team leader—much to our chagrin—piped up from the second row.
“Did we see that on your plan?” I shot a worried glance at M, who shook her head. For Cecily’s type of business, it would be the least appropriate exit strategy.
“No, but I’m thinking about it. Janice brought up some good points in our last meeting and Eric and Andy agreed.” M leaned forward on the desk, ready to jump in if necessary.
We’d started coming to each other’s lectures after Willa appeared as a guest speaker. It wasn’t anything we’d discussed, but with the advisory meetings now overlapping with lecture topics, it seemed crucial that we not miss anything that might shape these fledgling ventures.
“It is an option, Dynasthai,” I addressed Cecily’s team by its business name. “However, there are others, which is why we spend time going through the options before deciding on your individual plans. So, pros and cons of each exit strategy?” That set off a rousing group discussion where I became only a minor participant to encourage students around the topic. I stepped up the stairs and sat in the seat next to M, smiling conspiratorially at her. She was the master at getting her students to interact and come to conclusions on their own with only gentle coaching from her. We both inserted comments throughout the discussion, and like every Tuesday or Thursday, the time passed in a blur. Soon the students wound down, sensing the bell before it rang.
Walking back up front, I gave my closing remarks for the class. “Great input, everyone. Dynasthai, I’m meeting with you tomorrow at ten, and, Selesia, at one o’clock. I want the five-year pro forma financials completed so we can focus on the marketing strategy. And remember, next week we start looking at commercial real estate. Start thinking about whatever requirements you’ll need for your business space.”
Dramatic sighs sounded from the eight students involved, but they grinned to let me know they didn’t see it as a problem. When the bell peeled, they all shuffled their laptops and books together, called out goodbyes, and funneled through the exit door.
“That went really well,” M spoke from her seat.
“Thanks to a little coaching from you, Mavis.” Her only reaction was to stand and move around the desk to collect her notes. “Moira? Margaux? Myrna?”
She ignored my playful taunts. “Do you think we need to worry about team Dynasthai?”
“I’ll know more after tomorrow. You’re welcome to sit in on the planning session with me.” Only partly because of how much better our lectures were when she did.
“I just might.”
“We could squeeze in lunch together before the one o’clock?” Her hesitation brought on another tease. “C’mon, Mertice, you gotta eat.”
She laughed out loud at that guess. “Mertice? Really? You’re just making up names now, aren’t you?”
“Well, if you’d tell me your name, I wouldn’t be stopping by my friend’s bookstore once a week to collect more guesses from a baby names book.” I stepped up to the ledge beside her desk.
“I told you my name already. I can even show you my license to prove that I had it legally changed. What’s so wrong with M?” she asked, suddenly serious.
“It’s beautiful,” I responded immediately because of that serious tone and, before I could stop myself, added, “Like you.” Her eyes flared, and I felt my stomach react as if I were walking a high wire. I scolded myself for letting that slip while we were at work. It might have been easier to toss off as a mere compliment if we’d been outside of work.
“It’s just a name.” She turned away, rushing to collect her stuff.
Uh-oh. I had crossed the line. “Wait.” I reached to grasp her shoulder, but before I made contact, she swung around and stepped back out of reach. “Please.” She reluctantly met my eyes, but her hand reached for her backpack, ready to run off. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” Her expression remained inscrutable.
“I did. I’m sorry. I like your name, M. I’ll stop guessing if it makes you uncomfortable.”
She shook her head, a long moment passed where she seemed to be having a debate with herself. “It’s not that, I mean, it is, sort of. No one’s ever stayed this curious, but it wasn’t that.”
“What then? Tell me, please.” I edged closer, needing her to be open with me.
“You, you called me, no one’s ever called me…” She looked away without finishing.
“Beautiful?” How was that possible? Even if she wasn’t extremely attractive, she had the kind of tender, caring soul that defined beauty. “Oh, M, you’re very beautiful.” I reached out to touch her cheek. When my fingers first grazed her soft skin, I realized it was the first time we’d touched. Not even a nudge or an inadvertent arm brush. As I was marveling at that lack of contact and mapping the texture of her supple skin, I kept my eyes on my fingers. When I finally looked back up at hers, I saw fear. Actual fear, not the kind that might happen if I were making an unwelcome pass. This kind of fear forced my hand back to my side in a flash. “I keep doing the wrong thing. I’m sorry. I would never hurt you.”
“I believe you,” she whispered. Those guarded eyes still followed the movement of my offending hand. For a second, it looked like she wanted my hand back, but then her eyes snapped back to mine. They blinked until the expression showed tentative courage.
“Do you believe that you’re beautiful?” I insisted because no one had told this remarkable woman that she was beautifu
l. I didn’t care that this was a professional setting. She needed to hear it and know it.
“I’m not.” She twisted back to her desk and snatched the backpack up against her chest. “You’re the one who’s beautiful.” Her head jerked into a shake, eyes blinking in shock, obviously surprised she’d said that out loud. That made two of us. “I should go.”
My heart started thumping so fast I felt woozy from the rush of blood. “I won’t stop you, but thank you. And you are beautiful, M. If there’s one thing I plan to do as your friend, it’s to make sure you know that.”
She shook her head, trying to negate my words, but before she fled the room, she nodded once. It could have been a parting gesture, but I thought it might be her way of acknowledging my pronouncement that we were friends. At the very least, I hoped.
Chapter 20
The club was packed tonight. Saturdays in the summer appealed to the D/s crowd, especially since it was sweltering outside. She liked how she’d spent the Saturday before last better, but that wasn’t likely to happen again. Since that attempt at humanity hadn’t gone swimmingly, she was back here. Trying again, because she didn’t want to fail at this, too.
The trio of lace, leather, and skin loitered near the bar again.
She might try one of them; Leather looked good. In the same line of sight, Red Satin stood talking to a tall, excited looking woman.
Their conversation stopped as soon as R.S. caught her gaze and started over without a backward glance. A death glare came her way from Tall, Stocky, and Eager, but she knew nothing would come of it.
“I’ve been waiting for you. Want another round?” R.S. asked, raising a hand to cup her face.
“Don’t touch,” she reminded. The offending hand slammed back to her side in obedience.
“Yes, Mistress.” Her eyelids lowered briefly before stepping closer. “I’m dripping. I need you. Please, command me.” She hesitated because she didn’t repeat, but R.S. was a known commodity. Maybe that was what she needed tonight. “Wait in back. You’ll strip completely. We’re using the bench.” A wide smile was the only reply she received. Tonight’s mask covered only her eye sockets and the bridge of her nose, allowing a better look at her round face and the halo of black hair styled like that of a 40’s screen goddess. She watched Red Satin disappear through the crowd and went to arrange for a private room.
