Friday, August 15, 1986, Miami, Florida.
Emily Calder, AKA K.C. Harrow, best-selling author of the novel After Massaqua Falls, collected her leather suitcase from the carousel. As Emily stepped into Miami International, she left K.C. Harrow behind on a forty-city tour. Twenty weeks that had worn K.C. to the core.
Now Emily was tired. She was ready to recharge, needing space from the pressures of being K.C. Harrow. On her flight, she caught looks, but no one asked if she was famous. Face freshly scrubbed, hair in a ponytail. She had worn heavy designer jeans, a cotton long-sleeved blouse, and thick-rimmed glasses with clear lenses that disguised her. Escaping recognition allowed her to reclaim her own identity, not the face of K.C. Harrow.
Outside the terminal, Emily flagged a cab. The heat drained her energy as she leaned back, relaxing in the Chevy Caprice’s V8 thrum, while soft Cuban music played.
“¿Dónde, Señorita?”
It took Emily a minute to recall the hotel. “The Bal Harbour.”
“Si, si,” the driver said, voice low as she closed her eyes.
In the bar of the Bal Harbour Hotel, Elena sat sipping white wine, hoping to relax after a long week.
She noticed Emily, a tall woman with blonde hair in a ponytail, struggling with Harttman leather luggage. Watching her check in, Elena studied her, trying to remember where they might have met before.
Emily rolled her suitcase to her room. Everything was dark, rich, yet functional: cream walls, crisp white linens. It was unpretentious and a perfect place to lie low yet stay close to her purpose, to relax, and begin to take notes and write her next novel. She was still not sure whether she wanted to uncover the Miami that was portrayed on Miami Vice. Surely there was more to the city than Ferraris, cocaine, and gunfights.
She had reserved a top-floor room with a beach view. From where she stood, the beach below was tranquil.
“Later,” she told her bags, deciding packing could wait. She returned to the lobby cafe. A hostess seated her and offered Emily a menu, which Emily declined. She ordered salad, soup of the day, and Chardonnay.
Em looked around discreetly. A woman with short, dirty-blond hair in a linen shift, drinking wine, watched her.
Please, God, don’t let her be a fan.
The woman with the white wine stood, signaled the hostess, and ordered another glass. She approached Emily’s table, pausing.
“You will die in this heat dressed like that.”
Emily looked up, appraising Elena.
She had watched her come over… No, she had glided over.
Not a fan, then. She smiled and gestured for Elena to sit. Elena slid catlike into the chair as two fresh wines arrived with Emily’s meal. Emily sipped hers, rolling it on her tongue.
“California girl,” Elena stated, not a question, a fact.
Emily gave the slightest nod and put the wine down. “What gave it away?”
Elena smiled. “Your fashion sense stands out. The way you tasted the wine. You’re not a sommelier, so you must be from wine country—Sonoma, maybe, Miss Harrow,” she said.
Emily’s eyes narrowed slightly. The woman noticed and brushed Emily’s hand.
“Your secret is safe. I recognized you because I just finished your book, and I have an eye for faces.”
She softened it with a smile, hoping to put Emily at ease and show she wasn’t a fan—Elena wanted a genuine conversation, not an autograph. She offered her hand. “Elena Kessler.”
Emily automatically squeezed her hand. “K.C. Har–” she smiled, sheepishly. “Emily Calder.”
Elena gave her a dazzling, genuine smile. “I am so very pleased to meet you, Emily Calder.”
Emily smiled. “Friends call me Em. I hope you will, too.”
Elena stood and offered her hand again. In her best Kevyn Aucoin imitation, she said, “Those clothes will never do. Come with me, I will change your life.”
Smiling, Elena led Emily to the elevator.
“Let’s see what you are working with,” she said. They entered Emily’s room, and she dropped her suitcase on the bed. With almost girlish delight, both women sorted through the sparse collection.
Elena shook her head. “Not much to work with. Up for a shopping spree?”
Emily’s eyes lit up. “I haven’t gone clothes shopping in MONTHS.”
Elena picked up a pair of Bongo jeans and a pair of cuticle scissors. “How attached are you to these? And toss
the underwear—too heavy for Miami.” Minutes later, Emily ducked behind a slatted screen, unaware Elena could glimpse her. She emerged, buttoning new cutoffs and struggling into a heavy satin blouse.
“Lose the bra. Your tits will broil in that heavy thing.”
Emily narrowed her eyes at the request. She shrugged, took off both blouse and bra, and turned her back. Elena glimpsed the curve of her breast. Desire flickered, but Elena kept her focus. At the shops, Emily chose three outfits; Elena rejected them, then led her outside by the hand.
“You want Miami. Observe, don’t look.”
Emily watched for a few minutes, then they went into the shop. Once inside, Emily went for a red midi dress, But before she could find her size, Elena guided her to a pastel pink wrap dress.
She shoved Emily into a changing booth and chatted to the woman behind the counter.
Emily stepped out of the booth, adjusting the pastel wrap dress. “I feel exposed.”
They headed to Saks Fifth Avenue. She gravitated toward a Seafoam crepe shell. Elena has moved away. She looked for Elena, having picked out a linen blouse with matching trousers that flared down the legs. Emily found Elena near some dresses. Without speaking, Elena’s eyes went from the shell in Em’s hand to a chic cream-colored crop jacket and high-waisted matching trousers. Emily was becoming adept at reading Elena’s verbal communication. Observing details was a handy trait for being an author.
Emily said, “Might want to get comfortable. This may take a minute.”
She noted Elena was staying vigilant, eyes constantly roaming, watching the visible exits. In the changing room, Emily basked in the sensuous fabrics as she tried each one on. Decided the wrap dress was too revealing for now, she picked up the crepe shell and a nude bra. They fit nearly perfectly. She then tried on the linen blouse and pants. She removed the tags in order to buy them.
Stepping out of the booth, Emily saw Elena give a small nod of approval. I’m going to break that façade, my friend, Em thought.
As they left Saks, Elena noticed a subtle sway in Emily’s hips and a more relaxed posture. After a short taxi ride to the heart of Collins Street, they walked, window-shopping. Emily’s fingers clasped Elena’s as she eagerly pulled her into the shop. The sunglasses captured Emily’s attention, not the easily reachable ones on the rack, but the ones kept safely in a case, behind the counter. She selected an oval pair of tortoiseshell glasses; their gray lenses offered a clear view without obscuring her eyes. In Emily’s opinion, the outfit gave her a distinctly European appearance.
In the mirror, she adjusted the stylish glasses, checking out her new look. She bought the glasses, and the couple stepped into the bright Miami sun. Elena leaned into Emily.
“That doesn’t quite work together.” Elena slowly reached for the hair tie in Emily’s hair and pulled it free. Emily bent over, shook out her hair, then gathered it behind her shoulders, letting it fall naturally. Emily felt her new clothes were redefining her, and her hair seemed to agree.
A few stores down, the smell of leather drifted out. Emily entered and, fifteen minutes later, left with new flats and sandals—and a set of heels paired with her linen. Emily didn’t realize she was changing, not just her clothes, but inside, too.
Their next destination was a lingerie shop on Lincoln Road. Lightweight bras, sensible hot-weather panties, and a crimson bias-cut camisole.
“One last shop,” Elena said, pulling Emily across the street. She went to a rack and pulled a silk blouse off the rack. It was champagne-colored and plunged front and back. Emily bought two more things: taupe pants and a lavender men’s-style shirt that reached mid-thigh. She also bought belts for her outfits.
There was a charge in the taxi’s air as it returned to the hotel. They stood in the elevator, exchanging glances, when it stopped on Elena’s floor. Elena brushed her lips against Emily’s.
“Dinner? Sevenish?”
Emily smiled. “Love to!”
Em hung her purchases and placed the lingerie in the drawer. She stripped off her clothes and slipped into the
bath, melting into the bubbles and hot water. She was just beginning to doze when there was a knock at the door. Grumbling, Emily quickly belted on a robe and left wet footprints crossing the floor to answer. She opened the door to
find a bellboy standing with a box.
“Hi, um, Miss Calder?” Em nodded.
She accepted the package and slowly closed the door. She read the note. Change of plans. Drinks. Pool. Now. signed with a capital E.
Opening the box, the neon lime green bikini barely filled her hand. Sighing, Emily slipped the bottoms on and neatly shaved her bikini line.
The pool area was smaller, more intimate than the hotel pools in South Beach, yet Emily felt as if every head
turned to look as she walked out onto the deck. She wore the bikini, and in a nod to modesty, one item she had bought, a satin long men’s style shirt, worn loose around her shoulders. Behind her sunglasses, she looked for Elena, who reclined on a chaise in a white one-piece. She sat up and swung long, silky legs so she could greet Emily as she approached. They held hands and kissed, Euro-style, on each cheek.
“The shirt is a nice touch.”
“The bikini makes me feel indecent.”
Elena smiled. “That’s the point, just like this one.” Elena stood, walked to the edge of the pool, and dove in, swimming two laps and stepping back out on the stairs in the pool’s corner. Her suit had become sheer, almost transparent. Emily could see the darker circles of Elena’s nipples and the dark stripe of hair above her visible slit. She was pure sex as she came back to her chaise and reclined. The entire performance was a display of conserved energy and sex. A man in his late teens or early twenties approached.
Before he could speak, Emily interjected, “While we appreciate the thought, we’re just looking for a simple, hassle-free afternoon.”
A blush spread across Emily’s cheeks as a wave of confidence surged through her. Her voice was sweet yet firm. She took off her shirt, reveling in the looks the bikini drew. Elena asked about Emily’s life, how she came to write, and got more intimate details, while giving Emily little in return.
“So why K.C. and not E.C.?” Elena asked, referring to Emily’s pen name.
“I thought that E.C., Emily Calder, would be easier to figure out. Katherine, however, is my middle name, and it’s special since my father always called me Kat or Katie.”
Drinks came and went, and the sun moved across the sky. Despite the sunscreen, Emily felt her skin burn. She stood.
“I’m burning,” examining her reddened skin. They collected their belongings and detoured past the concierge. Elena pressed $50 into his hand.
“We will need some Noxema, Solarcaine, and a pitcher of margaritas delivered to Miss Calder’s room,” Elena instructed.
She led Emily to her room and slowly pressed wet, cold washcloths onto Emily’s burned skin. A knock on the door, and a bellhop delivered a tray of glasses, a pitcher of margaritas, a carafe of ice water, and the sunburn remedies. Elena tipped her $5.
“Strip, Emily.” It was not a question; it was a command. Fortunately, her back was not as burned as her front. Elena touched Em’s shoulders and back.
“Hurt?” Emily shook her head.
“I think it will be okay,” she replied.
Elena sprayed Solarcaine on her back, planting light kisses on her shoulders before spraying. The feel of
Elena’s lips on her skin sent shivers down Emily’s back.
“I don’t think I saw kissing the skin before spraying on the label, but I approve.”
Elena sprayed, giving it a minute to numb the tender skin.
Em turned, facing Elena, her eyes challenging. The kiss was soft and perfect. Elena kissed the burned areas just before the cooling spray. Her tongue, moving to Emily’s breasts, traced the boundary marked by the burn line. Elena flicked her tongue against Emily’s nipples, sending shivers through her body. Once the Solarcaine had had time to work, Elena dabbed a thick layer of Noxema onto the burned areas. Elena smoothed the thick skin cream on Emily’s face, placing another soft kiss before playfully dabbing a glob of the cream on Emily’s nose.
Emily sat on a towel draped over the chair, resembling a Ghostbuster from the ending scene. Elena handed Emily a margarita with a straw. Elena made sure that for every margarita Emily drank, Emily drank 8 ounces of water to prevent dehydration.
“You never said what you do, Elena.”
Elena thought for a moment. “I make things happen. I guess you could say I’m in logistics, sort of.”
“Married? Boyfriend?” A pause, and Emily’s voice lowered. “Girlfriend?”
A flash of pain crossed Elena’s face. “Boyfriend. Hoped it would be more, but he’s gone.”
“Sorry.”
Emily shifted, the drying Noxema beginning to look like cracked plaster. Elena ran a cool bath, and Emily
stepped in.
“Don’t rub; let it melt away.” Elena leaned in, kissing Emily. This one was firmer, her tongue flirting with Emily’s.
“Is there a Mr. Calder?”
Em shook her head. “No one. A few guys and a girl in college…”
Elena’s hand swirled in the water, cupped the unburned skin of Emily’s breast. Lightly, she traced down Em’s
stomach.
“Hurts?”
Em hissed negatively.
Elena’s fingers traced through the unruly curls of Emily’s bush. “Did you like what you did with
the girl?” Elena’s hand slid down, finger rubbing against Emily’s clit.
Emily arched. “Yesss!”
The kiss deepened. Emily’s hips bucked against Elena’s finger, driving toward release. Emily gasped, trembled,
and shivered, caught in la petite mort. With Elena’s help, a shivering Emily got out of the tub. They dried her, and Emily said the burn wasn’t that bad.
Em sat on the bed, and Elena stood between her legs. She slowly stripped the swimsuit down to her waist. She paused, eyes on Emily’s. “If only I had a fifty…” Emily smirked.
Elena turned and bent over, sliding the swimsuit off, her ass and pussy staring Emily in the face. Moaning, Emily took hold of Elena’s hips and planted her tongue in Elena’s pussy, licking as deeply as she could. Giggling, Elena turned, kicking the swimsuit away. She eased Emily onto her back and knelt. Emily’s skin tasted medicinal, the result of the Solarcaine and Noxema. As she licked higher, the taste was slightly chlorine from the bath. Her nose encountered soft curls inside Emily’s thigh. Her tongue traced the hairy lips, and Elena spread Emily’s legs open, savoring her taste as her tongue swept deeper. Emily squirmed as Elena loved her, heat blazing in every nerve.
“Don’t stop, please!” she begged.
Elena had no intention of doing so. She plunged two fingers as deep as she could. Emily’s moan was deep from her soul. Emily began to cum, trembling. Suddenly, Emily spasmed, her stomach muscles a knot.
“OH GOD!” It wasn’t a moan, nor a scream, but a child of both.
Elena stood, and Emily moved to the center of the bed, head on a pillow. She crawled over Emily, kissing her way to Emily’s trembling lips. Elena ground her pussy on Emily’s thigh. Emily returned Elena’s kiss; it was deep, hot, and loving. Elena’s grinding grew erratic as her clit scrubbed against Em’s smooth leg. She drove her tongue deep into Emily’s throat, stiffening as she came, hips bucking. Elena gave her another soft kiss. Elena got out of bed and put on a robe.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
Elena grabbed both room keys, her own and Emily’s, and slipped out the door. She returned 10 minutes later. Emily was still on the bed, basking in post-orgasmic bliss. Elena shed the robe, opening a white jar with Valmont in green printed on the side.
“It’s new out of Europe. Supposed to be a wonder for your skin. Very expensive,” Elena explained. “Flip.”
Emily rolled onto her stomach. Elena straddled her ass, her fingers cold with the skin cream. She spread it thinly.
“Okay?”
Emily moaned something that sounded like a yes. Elena worked the cream into Emily’s body, all the while rocking back and forth. She moved down, Emily’s heel against her rocking clit as she worked Emily’s legs. She finished Emily’s leg as she shuddered again, warm fluid covering Emily’s foot. Elena spanked Em’s tight ass.
“Done,”
Emily squirmed, working her way onto her back. Hooded eyes drank in Elena’s body.
“Did you cum?”
Elena bent over, kissing Emily.
“You excite me.”
Elena began with Emily’s face, kissing and applying the cream, which was absorbed by Emily’s skin like water
into sand. She spent time sucking on Emily’s nipples and even longer massaging the Valmont into them, tugging the nipples, and rolling them. Elena’s kisses stopped at Emily’s stomach, but she rubbed cream on her legs.
Elena put one leg over Emily’s and moved forward. She applied pressure with her hand, so Emily tilted her hips. She moved closer, making contact. An unfamiliar sensation filled Em as Elena rocked her hips, her pussy kissing Emily’s. The lovers moaned and gasped as they moved, finding the perfect rhythm, building them both to ecstasy. Emily grabbed Elena’s hand, fingers entwined. Their bodies covered in sweat, they came together, riding the crests higher and higher as both fed on the other. Through it all, their hands remained together, sharing a bond they were yet to realize.
They lay together, touching and talking. Emily sighed. “I could do this forever.”
Elena smirked. “Fucking? Or lying about being naked?”
“Both, but I mean being with you. You have changed me, and I love you for it.”
“You were ready, little dove. I just pushed you out of the nest.”
Emily’s stomach growled. She reached over Elena, grabbed the phone, and called room service to order dinner. Looking at Elena with the question in her eyes, Elena nodded.
“Make that two,” Emily said into the phone and hung up.
Emily rose and put on the satin shirt. She sat at the desk and opened a worn tote. Extracting a spiral notebook and a green Pilot pen, she opened the notebook and started to write. For several minutes, Elena lay in bed, watching, fascinated.
“Do you always do that?”
Emily looked up. “Huh? What?”
Elena’s voice was throaty. “Document your sexual conquests right after having them.”
Elena laughed as a stricken, panicked look froze on Emily’s face.
“I meant,” she said, sliding out of bed and moving behind the seated woman,
“Sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth.”
Em tilted her head to the side and back and stuck her tongue out defiantly. Elena leaned down and kissed her.
“Seriously, it’s very cute.”
Elena slid her hands inside Emily’s
shirt. “How’s the burn?”
“Might need another bout of Noxema and your wonder cream after dinner.” Emily moaned as Elena caressed her
nipples.
“Show me what you are doing.”
“It’s you doing the doing,” she gasped as Elena plucked at a nipple. “Oh, you mean my writing.”
Emily showed Elena the notebook. “I write everything in concept in green. After that, I use blue ink for drafts,
and as I get closer to a polish, it’s in black. The last thing I do is type it up, then go back over it with green to fix it. A second copy goes to Cheryl, my editor. Sometimes she’s like my mom with deadlines and stuff.”
Elena’s eyes glanced over the concept Emily was working on. Mostly, it was her description of Miami, the sexy fashion of Miami, and detailed insights into a woman.
Me. Elena thought. That’s how she sees me.
Room service disturbed the tranquil moment. As dinner was being set, Elena slipped into the bathroom. Emily reclaimed her desk and jotted away. When everything was ready, she pressed five dollars into the boy’s hand and thanked him. Elena appeared as the door closed, and Emily joined her for dinner. After eating, Emily stacked the tray and put it outside the door. Elena used the bathroom first, using the hotel-provided toothbrush. Emily joined her, using her own. They rinsed and kissed.
“Colgate should show us doing that in a commercial.” Emily giggled.
Still naked, Elena curled up on the bed.
“Hope you don’t mind. I need to get this stuff in my head onto paper.”
Elena smiled. “Not a problem, Em, as long as you are not kicking me out. I’ll just read this.”
She held up a copy of After Massaqua Falls.
Em spent an hour on her notes. Elena was deep into the book when Emily slipped into bed.
“I thought you’d read that.”
Elena closed the book. “I fibbed. And I stole this from your bag.”
“Well, in that case-” Emily took the book and went to the desk. She scribbled on the inside cover and returned to bed, handing Elena the novel. “There. Inscribed.”
Elena opened the jacket.
To Elena, Emily’s handwriting was open and expressive.
*A very special woman who has opened my eyes and my heart.
I see clearly now. I love freely now.
I LIVE now, thanks to you.
Love, K.C. Harlow*
Elena’s eyes glanced at Emily. “Not Emily Calder?”
Em smiled. “Why would Emily Calder write in that book?” She kissed Elena. “I prefer to express myself more physically.”
Then she showed Elena how physical.
Saturday
They rose early and went down to
breakfast. As they ate, Emily tossed out ideas for the day.
“I’d like to get some sun.” Elena cooed.
Emily pouted. “You want me like this bacon, extra crispy,” she filched half a strip from Elena’s plate.
“They had tables with shades, remember. You can write, I can burn, best of all, you won’t be able to use
writing as an excuse when I decide to ravish you later.” She glared at Emily.
“And touch my bacon again, I’ll stab you with my fork.”
Emily smiled innocently. “Proves I love you more. You can eat ANYTHING I have.”
Elena’s eyes widened, and even she didn’t know whether it was from the “love you more” comment or the double entendre.
They retired to their rooms and changed, Elena opting for a black string bikini, the newest European fashion for South Beach. Elena carried a tote of lotions and a towel. She knocked as Emily was adjusting her wrap dress, too sexy yesterday, a godsend now. She carried her tote and a towel. Em drank in her lover; the black bikini hid everything and showed all. They were alone when they first got to the pool. Elena drew a chaise to the side of the table Emily chose.
She dug out the Valmont cream and smoothed it into Emily’s arms and shoulders, and then under the top of the dress. She repeated it with Em’s legs, hands well under the hem and up her thighs. Emily reciprocated, smoothing tanning oil on every inch of Elena’s long form, starting with her back, and having her flip. As she worked on Elena’s legs, she planted loving kisses.
Two boys, maybe seventeen, had come out and put their things on the other end of the pool. They watched Emily oil Elena. When Em finished Elena’s legs, she stood and started on her arms, face, and neck. Em then moved to Elena’s shoulders.
“We have an audience,” Elena murmured.
Emily’s fingers slipped under the bikini top, oiling Elena’s nipples, then slid down to smooth oil on her flat stomach. Elena was moaning softly. At her bikini line, Emily’s fingers went under, stroking her clit. A quick glance and Emily could see they were being watched, not only by the boys but by a server who had come on duty. Elena’s hips jerked.
Emily whispered, “You are going to cum for them. Feel them watching you.”
Elena suppressed a scream as she jerked uncontrollably.
“You CUNT.” Elena gasped.
Em kissed her gently and retreated to the table. She reached into her purse, withdrawing three bills. Em motioned to the server.
She put one in a folded note and handed the note and two twenties to the man.
“An orange juice, a Pina colada, and ice water. The change is for you and to get this to the concierge ten minutes ago.” Elena was still breathing hard, the occasional shiver turning her tan to gooseflesh.
“Are you okay, Sweetie?” Emily sang. Elena flipped the bird at her friend.
“And to think I just bought you a drink.” Em’s tone was snarky yet happy.
She had just gotten her notebook out when the drinks arrived. Em took the juice, and she gestured to Elena.
“Those are hers.“
He served and turned to Emily. “He said he would get you an answer as soon as he could,” he whispered.
Emily concentrated on her writing and only paused when Elena got up and dove, slicing into the water with barely a ripple. She watched the controlled power of her lover’s body cutting laps. She glanced at the clock above the server’s station: 10:45. One of the hotel staff approached and handed Emily a note. Shelly Lang, one PM, Elena came out of the water like Botticelli’s Venus. She kissed Emily. She saw the note.
“Getting someone else’s number already?” she teased.
Em showed Elena her note. “I have a call at one. Publicist. Apparently, they are not happy I motored on the tour.”
Elena started toweling off. She gathered her things.
“In that case, meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.” She left the pool. Em stared at her, wondering if Elena was angry or not.
Emily packed her tote and went to the lobby. Elena appeared around the corner. Elena had put on a simple black-and-white dress, which seemed designed to blend in. They took each other’s hands, and Emily let slip a “wow.”
They walked out to the shops, and Elena stopped to look at a jewelry shop window. She drew Emily inside. Emily’s heart was hammering away. Elena bought a gold chain with a drop pendant and placed it around Emily’s neck.
“I can’t accept that,” Emily said. “Unless you wear one from me.” Emily looked over the cases, then noticed a worn display case behind the saleswoman. She pointed to it, and the woman opened it on the counter. Em heard Elena draw a deep breath as Emily chose a beautiful locket. The burnished gold gave away to a trained eye that it was old, Edwardian, perhaps even Victorian. Elena shook her head no, even as she held still so Emily could put it on her. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“It’s perfect,” Elena whispered. Smiling, they kissed one another. Lunch was intimate and quiet, mostly compliments and a lot of hand-holding. Time was growing short, and they went back to the hotel. Stopping on Elena’s floor, they kissed goodbye.
“Come get me once you are done with the phone call,” Elena said with a final peck on the lips. The elevator went to Emily’s floor, and she changed into the crepe shell jacket and slacks. Then she went down to the salon. Once she got the time down, she used the phone to call Elena.
“I need to take care of something personal. Meet me in the bar at four-ish?”
She settled in for the color change she desired. In Emily’s mind, it was the last act of separating Emily from K.C.
They finished Emily’s makeup in a remarkably short time, and she tipped all the women involved $30 each, except the stylist, whom she gave $40. All were very pleased by Emily’s generosity.
Putting on sunglasses, Emily went to the bar, arriving with ten minutes to spare. Elena was already there, at a table in the back. Emily walks slowly to the far wall, out of Elena’s vision. Elena finished a drink and signaled the server for another. The distraction allowed Emily to get to the table.
She took off the sunglasses and said in a sultry voice, “Care for some company?”
Elena glanced and said, “Sorry, I’m waiting for-”
She looked again, her eyes widening, then narrowing, focusing.
“You are late.”
“No, I’m not.” Emily replied. “May I?” she gestured to the chair.
“Please.” Elena’s voice shook. “You left without saying why.”
“I said it was personal.” She sighed. “I felt like a butterfly trapped in a chrysalis.”
They stared at each other, an uncomfortable silence between them.
You didn’t ask me to witness this change. That’s either very good… or very bad for me.
Emily stood. “It’s nice outside, walk with me?” She offered her hand. The server came over. She handed her the cash and tip silently. Elena rose. Together they walked out toward the beach. Walking slowly, aimlessly at first, they were apart, but as they meandered through the streets, they drew closer, hands brushing. They chatted about nothing, the architecture, the heat, how Miami had changed, mostly from Elena, since this was Emily’s first time. At some point, Elena’s hand touched Emily’s, and they clasped together.
Neither woman wanted to address how they were feeling; they both wanted to seal the rift between them, but neither knew how. They returned and had dinner, though neither ate that much; both were mired in their own thoughts.
I want to hold her, kiss her, Emily thought. That’s how it starts, the author’s voice in her head warned. It starts, and
then the crash and burn. Emily suppressed that thought and looked up, meeting Elena’s eyes.
Elena met Emily’s gaze and paused. She’s waiting. Elena felt a sense of disquiet within her. For me? Elena was not used to being the one lagging. She’s changed so much in just a day.
“Well?” Emily’s voice drew her back to the moment.
“Sorry, I spaced out for a second.” Idiot Elena screamed at herself.
Emily pursed her lips. Is she ignoring me?
“I said, I think I want to walk some more tomorrow. Maybe I’ll find a Van Gogh in a trinket shop or something.”
“Miami is full of surprises. Some even hang on walls.”
She is still waiting. She doesn’t want to fill the space with herself. Elena noted.
“If you would like company,” she touched Emily’s hand lightly.
Electricity shot through Emily. Don’t rush this. Don’t be the scared schoolgirl. You are not like that anymore.
Elena picked up the check and rose to leave.
She could disappear if she wanted to. The thought unbidden came to Elena.
She came back. She would never leave without saying goodbye.
Elena shivered slightly at the thought.
If you don’t act, Emily may disappear back into herself. Elena had a flash of intuition. Back into the version of herself everyone recognizes.
Emily went with her to the elevator.
Something changed. I thought she might bolt, but she stayed. Suddenly, Emily realized it: We are not chasing, we are not running.
We just-Are.
Inside, Elena pushed the button for her floor. Then, after a moment, Emily’s. They felt the elevator lift as it hummed up the building. Emily watched the numbers climb and said softly, “You could come up.”
She’s letting me decide. Elena thought. Not asking me to stay, just giving me the choice.
Seconds ticked by, and the ding of the elevator announced the arrival at Elena’s floor. The doors opened, and Elena took a half-step. She turned and, for the first time, made eye contact.
“Alright.” She said, stepping back inside the elevator. They were silent as they walked down the hall. Emily was in front, not looking back; she knew Elena was behind her. I’m glad Elena is staying.
As Emily unlocked the door, Elena rested her hand on the small of Emily’s back.
I’m with you, Em. Emily took a deep breath at the touch. Good, she felt it. Elena thought.
Emily went into the bathroom, leaving the door partially open. She quickly removed her dress, brushed her teeth, and washed her face and hands. Naked, Emily left the bathroom and went to the dresser, picked up a sleep shirt, then put it back. Picking up a hairbrush, she sat next to Elena and started brushing her hair.
Elena slipped into the bathroom and brushed and washed. She considered taking a shower but rejected it. She took off her clothes, folding them neatly. With a deep breath, she stepped out of the bathroom and placed her clothes on the dresser.
Emily’s not showing off; she’s completely vulnerable. She could have covered up, but chose not to.
She stepped to the bed, and Emily lowered the brush, tilting it to Elena. Elena moved to be behind and to the side of Emily, one knee on the bed. She gently took Emily’s hand and slowly guided the brush through Emily’s hair. Elena kissed Emily on the crown of her head, lips barely touching. Emily almost missed the act and shivered as the second kiss, behind her ear, softly landed. Emily released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“Write something for me, Em. Not to keep, to hear.”
Emily went to the desk and opened her notebook.
Not from the book, dearest Elena.
Elena resisted the urge to sit where she might read over Emily’s shoulder; she reclined and shut her eyes.
Emily wrote, not in the usual ‘dump it all out of her head’ method she often used, but slowly, thinking about every word.
‘It’s weird how fast a place can feel temporary. How do you think you are just passing through, only to
realize you have left something behind, regardless?’
Close enough. It’s not meant to be exact, even if you had the words.
‘I felt staying too long meant giving something up when you finally leave.’
I love how she let me in, Elena thought.
“Thank you, Em.”
Emily looked at her beautiful companion… Hesitated, then closed the book.
“I didn’t finish it.”
“I know.”
Emily shut off the desk lamp, then got into bed. Elena turned off the remaining lamp, and moonlight flooded into
the room. Together, they lay on their sides, facing each other, drawing closer until their knees were inside their thighs, their bodies touching. They stared at each other, arms around each other’s waists. They slowly drifted off to sleep.
