by A. L. Brooks
“You don’t think it’s a bit odd? Me having an attraction to a woman this late in life? Don’t most people realise they’re gay or bi or whatever when they’re much younger?”
“Sexuality doesn’t come with a timetable.” Maggie tilted her head. “Just because the likes of me and Tamsyn realised ours thirty years ago is irrelevant.” Her eyes narrowed. “And just because you are attracted to Ash doesn’t mean you have to slap a new label on yourself that quickly if it doesn’t make you comfortable.”
“Okay.” Carmen exhaled and eased back in her seat.
Maggie put her tea mug down. “There are many people who discover much later in life that they’re attracted to someone of the same sex. Funnily enough, I read a couple of articles about this recently. Women who had always been with men, but then in their late thirties, early forties, and even later, they find themselves attracted to a woman.” She paused. “For some it’s hard to face up to. But just because we’re not teenagers anymore doesn’t mean we can’t go through big changes in our lives and our relationships with others. Sexuality is an evolving concept for many women.” She shrugged. “So you’re not alone, if that’s any consolation.”
Carmen swallowed. Hearing that did make a huge difference. “It is. Thanks.”
“I can send you links to these articles. It might help.”
“Yes, please.” Carmen took a deep breath. “So, um, what do I do about it all? About how I feel about her.”
Maggie twisted in her seat to face Carmen. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, okay?”
Carmen’s shoulders tensed. “Say whatever you need to, please. I’ll take all the advice or thoughts I can get.”
“Okay. Well, if your attraction is purely physical and you just want a quick roll in the hay to see what it’s like, then you need to make that crystal clear to her. And if she’s up for it, she’ll—”
“No!” Carmen said the word so loudly Gizmo leaped up from his slumber and stood in full alert mode, looking out for danger. She reached over to him and rubbed his head. “Sorry, little guy. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
The dog huffed, snuffled at her fingers, then lay down.
When Carmen turned back to Maggie, there was a wry grin on her friend’s face. “Okay, so it’s emphatically more than a one-night-stand thing, yes?” Maggie asked.
Carmen’s face warmed, and she nodded. “If I tell you sex is the last thing on my mind, I don’t mean that to sound like I’m not physically attracted to her. Because I am.” Her face burned hotter. “But right now it’s more about just wanting to be with her. I mean, spend time with her. Not anything else. Not yet.” Her cheeks were burning now.
Maggie patted her hand. “I knew what you meant.”
Carmen exhaled, trying to calm her swirling thoughts. “I can’t get her out of my head. How interesting she is. How when I’m with her, I feel so relaxed and happy. I know I could talk about anything with her and she’d never judge, even if she disagreed. I know that she’s interested in my life and who I am as a person, not my status or what I can do for her career.”
Maggie smiled. “Then you got it bad.”
“I think I have,” Carmen whispered. She placed her hands on her warm cheeks. “It’s all a little overwhelming.”
Maggie sat quietly beside her, simply giving her time.
“Thank you. For listening and for advising and…” Carmen’s throat closed up, and no more words would come.
“You’re welcome. Hey, come here.” Maggie held out her arms.
Carmen slipped into the hug.
Maggie held her close, rocking her gently.
Carmen didn’t cry, even though she thought tears were close, but simply allowed herself to be comforted.
“It’s a big thing, this discovery,” Maggie said into her hair, “and there’s no rush to do anything about it, okay?”
Carmen nodded and pulled away slightly so that she could look at Maggie. “I know. I’ve managed to work myself into a bit of a state the last few days. First, to accept that’s how I feel about her, and second, to wonder what to do about it all. The number of times I’ve just sat at my desk and stared off into space is embarrassing. God knows what Monica and Beverley must think.”
“Oh yeah, tell me about it. My God, the first time I realised I was attracted to women, I thought I must be wearing some enormous neon sign that announced it to the whole world every time I left the house. It feels like it’s so big it can’t possibly be kept inside.”
“It really does.” Carmen sat back and shook out her arms and shoulders. “God, I don’t think I realised how much tension I’ve been carrying around since I blurted it out to Felicity on Thursday.”
“How did she take it?”
“Oh, she was fine, of course. Well, once we got past the awkward moment of her thinking she was the object of my affections.”
Maggie guffawed. “Oh my God, I would have paid good money to see that unfold.”
“It was pretty priceless, yes.” Carmen chuckled. “Thankfully, she wasn’t offended when she discovered she was out of the picture.”
Maggie grinned.
“Then bumping into Ash again on Friday had me all twitchy. I couldn’t relax around her, just knowing I knew this big thing about myself now. I dread to think what she thought of me.” Carmen cringed.
“I doubt she noticed. You’re hyperaware of everything to do with her because it’s all so new to you and seems so enormous.”
“I suppose so.” Carmen licked her lips. “She, um, messaged me later that day. To ask how I was. I’m ashamed to say I haven’t replied yet.”
“But why not?”
“I honestly didn’t know what to say. I could hardly tell her the truth, and answering with a bland ‘I’m fine’ seemed ridiculous given the circumstances.”
“I kind of understand, but leaving her hanging like that…”
“I know.” Carmen sighed, then squared her shoulders. “Should I tell her how I feel about her?” It was the paramount question in her mind and had been all weekend.
“Do you have any inkling at all if she’s attracted to you?”
“Not really, no. She’s done a sketch of me, Felicity said. But I’d guess she sketches a lot of people.” Carmen rubbed at her chin as she thought back on all of her interactions with Ash. “There has been a couple of…looks, I suppose you’d call them, and they did make me wonder, but…” She huffed out a breath. “I feel like my usual gift for spotting if someone is interested in me has gone all wonky now I’m using it in a situation with a woman, not a man.”
“I understand.” Maggie tapped her chin with one fingertip. “For starters I guess all you can do is keep seeing her, keep checking in with your feelings. And see if you pick up any hint of the attraction being reciprocated.”
“She did tell me she only wanted to be friends.” Carmen tried not to let her sadness about that colour her tone.
Maggie’s eyebrows rose. “She did? In what context?”
Carmen told her about the awkward conversation at Alma’s.
“Hmm. Strange.” Maggie’s gaze drifted. “I suppose she may have said that because she is attracted to you but didn’t want her attraction to get in the way of what she thought was only ever going to be friendship. Because she assumes you’re straight and therefore nothing else is possible. Sort of nipping it all in the bud before it gets away from her. Or she’s not attracted to you, and friendship is really all she’s after. In which case, I’m sorry, but there’s not a lot you can do about that.”
Carmen’s mood fell. “Maybe I shouldn’t bother. If nothing else, I don’t want her thinking I’m only doing what Felicity did. Maybe it would be easier if I just walked away now.”
“Don’t be daft.” Maggie poked her in the arm. “Come on. It’s just an unknown quantity right now. There’s no harm in seeing her a few more times and figuring some things out.”
Carmen’s heart thudded. “It’s all a bit scary.”
Maggie’s
smile was sympathetic. “I know. It is scary. But sometimes it’s the scary things in life that get us what we want.”
Chapter 16
“Oh, I’m so glad you talked to Maggie last night!” Felicity’s voice was filled with excitement.
Carmen wedged the phone under her chin and began tidying her desk. For once she was leaving work at a reasonable time and didn’t want anything getting in the way of her escape. “I know. She really put my mind at ease. Not that you didn’t, but—”
“I understand; don’t worry. So,” Felicity continued, “what happens next?”
Carmen’s stomach completed a full roll. “Well, as soon as I get home, I am going to pluck up the courage to call her again. Ash, I mean.”
“Hurrah! This is so exciting.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re living vicariously through me at the moment?”
“Because I am. God knows there’s no one with any potential on my horizon.” Felicity laughed. “So, sorry, darling, but you’re going to have to keep me entertained.”
They’d known each other long enough for Carmen to know that Felicity was only teasing. “All right, I’ll see what I can do.” Carmen rolled her eyes. “Right, I’m going now. If I don’t just get home and do this, I probably never will.”
“Good for you. Let me know how it goes, okay?”
“I will.” She finished packing up her desk and locked up the office behind her. Her heart raced all the way home, and a multitude of what-ifs spun round her mind. What if she’s just not interested in me? What if she doesn’t answer? What if she’s got herself a girlfriend in the last week or so?
By the time she reached her street, she was practically hyperventilating and willed herself to take a few deep breaths.
For God’s sake, you’re forty-three years old! You sound like a bloody teenager. Get a grip.
Earlier in the day, when Monica had been out to lunch, Carmen had read the articles Maggie had sent her. It had been comforting to read about other women her age who had been through the same extraordinary realisation. And interesting that it was usually triggered by meeting someone amazing. Sometimes the feelings weren’t reciprocated, and the women had to deal with rejection while still working their way through understanding their new identity. For others, the object of their attraction became their long-time partner.
Would that happen to us? If I ever found the courage to act on this, would Ash be interested?
Carmen opened her front door, her breathing still laboured. This was worse than ending things with Gerald. God, was that only a month ago? She walked through the house to her office and deposited her laptop, then took a deep breath.
Yes, ending things with Gerald was only a month ago. So although her newly admitted attraction for Ash was strong, it had developed quickly and therefore needed to be treated with a little caution. This could just be some rebound thing. Maggie was right—I need to see Ash a few more times and test what I’m feeling. There is no need to rush anything.
With her breathing and pulse closer to normal levels, she took the time to change out of her office clothes and into some loose cotton shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt. It was a warm evening so she threw open the doors that led from the living room to the garden. With a glass of iced water in one hand and her phone in the other, she stepped out onto the small terrace and sat at the wrought-iron table.
After taking one last deep breath, she dialled Ash’s number.
Ash closed the door to the studio and flipped the sign to closed . It wasn’t quite eight in the evening, her official closing time, but she was done. It had been a long day—seven appointments, two of which had been nearly two hours each.
Her phone trilled from where she’d left it at the front desk, but by the time she got there, the caller had rung off. When she picked up the phone and saw who the missed call was from, her heart pounded.
Carmen.
Given the silence from her in the last week or so, Ash had pretty much given up on hearing from her again. She still didn’t know why Carmen hadn’t replied to her text message, but she wasn’t going to push. If Carmen didn’t feel the need to respond, that was her right, no matter how much it hurt. Ash flopped down in the chair behind the desk.
A moment later, her phone beeped with the notification of a voicemail.
Do I really want to listen to that? Now’s my chance to back away from whatever this is and save the risk of feeling more for her than I should. Before she could out-think herself, she listened to the message Carmen had left.
“Hi, Ash, it’s Carmen. I hope you’re well. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch for a while. I did get your message, but life, um, got in the way. So, I-I was wondering if you’d like to meet for coffee again one morning. Or catch up for a drink after work sometime. Whatever, you know, works best for you. Bye.”
Carmen’s voice trembled for the duration of the message. Why would that be? Ash’s urge to talk to Carmen, to comfort her and find out what was troubling her, warred with her own sense of self-preservation when it came to this attractive—and straight—woman. It would be far too easy to get close to Carmen, and that could only lead to trouble. Except, Ash was wiser from her experience with Vikki, so surely that would keep any untoward feelings in check, right?
Okay, one last chance to walk away. Ignore Carmen’s message and cut her out of your life.
No. I can do this. She’s a great person to hang out with, and it doesn’t have to mean anything more than that. I can do this.
Carmen answered on the third ring. “Ash! Hi!”
“Hi there. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine. And you?” Carmen’s voice croaked.
“All good.”
“You listened to my message?”
“I did.” Ash didn’t plan to play hardball, but she was hoping to pull a little more out of Carmen with her short answers. If nothing else, some hint as to what had led to the non-communication would be good to hear.
“Again, I’m so sorry for not contacting you earlier than now. Things have been a tad difficult.”
Ash’s armour cracked. “Are you really okay?”
“I am. I promise.” Carmen’s voice strengthened. “So what do you think about meeting up?”
Carmen almost sounded convincing with her answer, but Ash was well aware of the diversionary follow-up. She’d let it slide for now. It was obvious Carmen wanted them to meet up, and she’d focus on that positive element. She opened the calendar on her laptop. “Coffee or a drink sounds great, but I’m pretty booked up for the rest of this week. How about Saturday?”
“Ah, sorry, no can do. I have dinner with some clients on Saturday.”
“Monday?” Ash scrolled through the calendar. “My last client comes in at six, and we should be done by around seven thirty. Want to meet me here at the studio again, and we can go on from there?”
“That sounds great!” There was a catch in Carmen’s voice that Ash couldn’t interpret.
“Great. I’ll see you then.” After hanging up, Ash tapped the phone against her chin while her mind whirled. Is this a mistake? The last thing you need is another hot-and-cold friendship with a straight woman you find attractive. If Carmen was going to give her the runaround with a big push-pull thing, Ash would have to stop it in its tracks. And quickly. But equally, if she had any suspicion she herself was feeling more than she should, she would back away just as fast. She would know the signs, and she’d be able to act before it got out of hand.
So she’d give them this chance to see how things were between them and then take it from there. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that. At all.
She could just imagine Damian rolling his eyes at her.
Carmen sprayed some perfume on her wrists, then tugged her dress down. She took one step back from the mirror. Yes, that will do .
The dinner tonight was hugely important for Matthew Hemmings’s burgeoning acting career. At the moment he was in the lower ranks of B-list British actors, but
with the right exposure, the right deals, the right contacts, he could hit the A-list very quickly. She needed to bring her best game tonight to get him the big step forward he deserved. All her experience, honed over the last fifteen years of running her own agency, would come into play.
It was such a pity that she couldn’t find an ounce of motivation to make all that effort tonight.
Oh God . She breathed deeply, one hand pressed against her roiling stomach. What is wrong with me?
She’d been fine in the office the night before, fine-tuning her strategy and the plans she’d been thinking about for weeks now. The producer they would meet tonight was big-time Hollywood. Major blockbusters littered the man’s resume, and Carmen knew exactly what to say and how to say it to get Matthew through that door. But when her alarm had failed to go off this morning and she’d slept through until eleven, her first waking thought hadn’t been panic about the hours she’d missed. Instead she’d relished the feel of the cotton sheets on her naked skin and luxuriated in the sheer joy of having slept for ten blissful, uninterrupted hours.
She should have cared about how much work she could have completed between eight—her normal waking hour on a Saturday—and eleven. But no, she’d simply strolled downstairs at a languid pace and put the coffee machine on. She’d taken a large steaming mug of coffee out to the terrace and—almost beyond belief—read the newspaper for an hour. It was as if she’d been body-snatched. The part of her brain that would normally scream at her to keep going, get back on that treadmill and work, work, work had been silent.
Come on. This is what you do. It’s what you love, remember? The thrill of pushing someone up the ladder—and of earning herself a nice rate of return in the process—had propelled her on for so many years now, she was at a loss to figure out why it had deserted her tonight, of all nights.
