Dez looked at her mother, at the old teasing smile then the glint of silver from the ring on her toe. “Oh, please. If you looked this good you’d spread it around, too. Aunt Paul knew what she was doing. And so do I.”
“I’ll take your word on that one.”
Claudia finished the ritual with her toenails then held out the bottle of nail polish and an upraised hand, wordlessly asking Dez to paint her fingernails the same sparkling shade of green as her toes. Dez draped her offered fingers over her upraised knee and unscrewed the bottle.
“What was it like being in love with Warrick?” she asked.
The question came out of nowhere, catching them both by surprise. But Dez didn’t take it back.
Her mother looked at her quietly, as if gauging the sincerity of her question.
“Painful,” she said finally. “But in the beginning when he loved me too it was perfect. As clichéd as it may seem, we fit together like pieces of the same puzzle. Are you—?”
“No. She and I are just hanging out.” Dez looked at her mother and raised an eyebrow for emphasis. “Casually.”
Claudia gazed down at her nails, watching the color bleed from the tiny brush her daughter wielded. “I was actually going to ask you about Ruben. But that answered my question, too.”
Dez felt herself flush under her mother’s laughing gaze. She snapped the cap back on the bottle and gave the polish an unnecessary shake.
“Who is she? Someone you shouldn’t be messing with?”
“Mom, please.”
Claudia laughed again. “Fine. Just don’t smudge my nails. You’ll only have to redo them later.”
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen.” Dez finished up the second coat of polish and put the bottle away.
The soft, translucent ovals of her nails looked harder beneath their coat of war paint, their frailty brushed away by the green-tipped brush.
“Ruben did to me what Warrick did to you.” She took an experimental breath. “It was hard at first, but he doesn’t exist to me anymore.” The coldness of her voice surprised her. It seemed too final. But mentally probing the edges of her wound, she realized that it
was
final. It was over. Her Ruben pain had healed, leaving behind only a faint tenderness. She pushed it aside.
“You look all shiny and new with your polish.” Dez admired her handiwork in the light. “Come for a ride on the bike with me. You can’t keep all this loveliness to yourself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not getting on that thing.” But her voice lacked the same conviction it had two years, or even two months ago. She giggled, actually covering her mouth with her hands, as Dez waggled her eyebrows and grinned.
“Come on. Whatever happened to seize the carp and all that? Or was it just talk?”
“Of course it was.”
But she allowed Dez to drag her off the couch and upstairs to zip into something a little less comfortable. They left the house, breakfast uneaten and, after much laughter and “wait, I’m not ready” and “quit messing around” and other assorted teasing, they hopped on the black cherry Ducati and roared off into the city. Claudia’s surprised laughter fanned out behind them in the breeze.
Later that night, she sat with her foursome at Gillespie’s, letting the night’s goodwill put her nicely out of her head. Though Nuria’s smart-ass comments were starting to nudge her into the opposite of a good mood.
“So exactly who is this girl you’re fucking?” Nuria asked.
“She can’t be any better than me,” she added, ignoring the fact that she and Dez had never had sex.
Dez took a bite of her calamari and glanced around the bar, ignoring Rémi’s amused look. Nuria’s red mouth plumped into a pout when she murmured, “How can you be so sure?” in response to her comment.
“Dez, isn’t that your mother?” Phil asked.
Their whole table turned to see Claudia and Eden with a group of people that none of the girls had ever met. The three men in the group were Claudia’s age, well-groomed and successful-looking, while the other three women looked like real classy pieces, gorgeous and refined, if you liked that type.
Rémi looked across the room where her friend had discreetly nodded. “Yeah, that’s Claudia. I didn’t know that she was dating anyone.”
“Me neither,” Dez said.
Across the room, Claudia laughed and put her hand on the shoulder of the man closest to her. He looked familiar. Something Dez did must have drawn her mother’s attention, because in the next moment the older woman excused herself and made her way over to their table.
“Hello, darling.” She bent down to brush her cheek against Dez’s. “I didn’t know you liked jazz.”
The other women at the table quickly made room for Claudia, urging her to sit down. Sage held a chair for her.
“I didn’t know you liked that sort.” Dez nodded her head at the group her mother just left.
“Very funny. They’re more exciting than they look.” Then mother and daughter laughed, leaning in toward each other like young girls. “I know they seem boring, love. But they wanted to come here and see what all the buzz was about. You remember my friend Kincaid, don’t you?” Dez nodded, suddenly recalling their brief meeting at Novlette’s a few weeks ago. “Well, he said this place has been the
It
spot for the last year or so. I think he brought us here to show us that not all bankers were boring.”
Dez chuckled again. “Of course they aren’t.”
“So now that you’re here, what do you think of the place, Mrs. N?”
“It’s nice. Not bad. The crowd is fun and eclectic, not what I expected at all. And the music is wonderful.” The last notes of a moody guitar solo tapered off to the heartfelt applause of the audience. “Do you girls come here a lot?”
“We do, but we don’t really want to. Rémi forces us to come here at least twice a week and spend all our hard-earned money.”
“I’m sure you noticed how they’re all hurting for cash and a good time.” Rémi turned her crooked smile on Claudia.
Dez watched their byplay with amusement. If her mother wasn’t straight and didn’t know better, she’d worry about her falling for Rémi’s charm.
“Your little club is not all that,” Sage said. “I’m sure Miami dykes and their friends could find somewhere else in this town with hot women, strong-ass drinks, and a fuckable local celebrity for an owner.” She looked around the table. “And make sure you gals tell me when you find that place.” Her friends laughed.
“This place is yours, Rémi?”
“Yes, ma’am. With a little help from an investor or two.” Her gaze moved briefly to Dez.
Claudia’s surprised smile widened. “I see.”
When the waitress bent over the table with her full tray, Sage switched her empty martini glass for a full one and slipped the D-cup server a twenty-dollar tip.
“You keep that up and you’ll buy
her
for the night,” Dez murmured, watching the girl walk off with a come-fuck-me sway to her hips. Then she remembered that her mother was there.
Claudia’s eyes twinkled. “Is that what you spend your money on?”
Dez shook her head. “I don’t have to pay for mine, Ma.” Her mother laughed outright then. “Let me go before you girls scandalize me any further.” She stood up. “By the way, Rémi, please pass on my compliments to your chef. The calamari is absolutely beyond compare. The best I’ve had in a long time, if not ever.”
“I’ll let Rochelle know, Mrs. N,” Rémi said. “Thanks.” They watched Claudia go in silence. Dez had told Rémi about the cancer a few weeks before during one of their quieter moments. She smiled at Dez. “Mrs. N looks great.”
“Of course, she’s my mother.”
Nuria made a laughing noise. “That’s our Dez, modest to a fault.” She sipped her margarita to hide the not-so-nice look she shot Dez. She was jealous. Maddeningly and incomprehensibly jealous, just because Dez wanted someone who was not her. It was driving them both crazy. Dez could count on all her digits and appendages the times she’d told Nuria that nothing would ever happen between them. They were friends. She did not fuck her friends, no matter how hot and willing they were. This “conversation” had been happening since college and things weren’t going to change now. Nuria liked her sex with a little spice, and if half the things she told them about her escapades were true, she and Dez would have gotten along very well together in bed. But it was never going to happen. Nuria, however, was persistent. For a cynic, she really was very hopeful.
Dez finished her scotch and signaled the waitress for another one. It was going to be a very long night.
Chapter 26
“I
’ve been thinking about you all day,” Dez whispered into the springy nest of Victoria’s hair.
She chuckled and slid her palms up under the back of Dez’s shirt. “It’s barely two o’clock. You’ve been up for what, an hour already?”
“But it’s been a very long hour.” On the way over to Victoriana’s she’d called herself all kinds of stupid for wanting to see the bookstore owner so badly, especially knowing that she probably wouldn’t be able to get anything more than a hug. But her body was glad she came, especially after the night spent in Nuria’s snarking company. Her friend’s comments—a constant reminder of how much Dez wanted Victoria and not her—released her from the self-imposed exile. She wanted to be with this woman, so why not?
Dez sniffed appreciatively in the front of her blouse, inhaling the subtle mixture of baby powder, tangerines, and sweat between her breasts. Beyond the closed office door, the bookstore buzzed on with its steady stream of Sunday customers.
“I know that I can’t have you for too long. I just wanted to give you this.” She pressed a package of still-warm zucchini muffins in her hand.
Victoria chuckled. “You’re going to make me fat.”
“I like to see you eat.” She nuzzled her throat and pressed her fingers into the curve of Victoria’s waist. When she pulled back, the other woman looked warm and bothered with her nipples rising up behind her cotton blouse and her eyes half-closed. Her mouth begged to be kissed. But she was wearing lipstick. So Dez settled for a few more seconds at her throat. She honestly just wanted to sink inside her and never move again.
“Meet me at my house tonight. I have a surprise for you.” Victoria purred and leaned even closer. “I like surprises.” “Good.” She palmed her ass through the skirt. “Now get back to work before I change my mind about being good.”
Laughter bubbled up in Victoria’s throat as she turned from Dez to open the door. “See you tonight.”
The woman behind the counter, Marta, Dez thought her name was, spared them a brief glance as they walked out of the office together. Dez waved good-bye to Victoria and dodged the bookstore full of women in various stages of browsing and headed for the stairs. She felt like whistling.
“Hey, Dez. Where you heading off to in such a hurry?” For a moment she froze, guilt making her go fifteen degrees colder. She faltered on the stairs with a hand on the banister. Then she chided herself for acting like the other woman in some trashy hetero drama. She’d been caught in worse situations than this and acted more innocent.
“Hey, Derrick. What’s going on?”
Her brother, who looked nothing like a lawyer today in his baggy jeans and a designer T-shirt, stood a couple of steps below her on the stairs. “Not much. Just coming by to see Tori. I didn’t know you knew about this place.”
“Well, you know, unlike your kind, dykes don’t have many places to go in this town.”
“Hey, calm down. We called a truce, remember?”
A woman slid between them on the stairs. “Excuse me,” she said, giving them a censuring eye.
“Sorry. Old bad habits and all that.”
He shook his head but didn’t seem offended. “I came to take Tori to lunch. Do you want to come with us? There’s always room for one more.”
Generous. Unexpected. “No.” Then she remembered herself. “After the way we acted when she saw us last together, I doubt she would appreciate my presence.”
“I know an excuse when I hear it. You don’t want to come and that’s cool.” He turned to walk up the stairs. “See you around.”
Shit.
“Then again, since you asked so nicely.” She jogged up behind him. He turned to her with a look of surprise and a smile.
“What?” she asked. “Changed your mind already?”
He chose to ignore that. Dez bounced up beside him as he approached Victoria, then waited respectfully while his friend helped a customer find a book. With the crisp smell of books and the prim way the blouse fit over her breasts before falling over the waistband of her skirt, Dez was reminded powerfully of that first fantasy of Victoria she’d had, of pushing her against the back wall of a library and fucking her until her hair flew out of its pins and her blouse drooped off her damp shoulders. She shifted in her jeans and turned to look elsewhere.
“Derrick. You’re just on time, as usual.” She brushed his cheek with a light kiss. “Let me get my bag.” Then she noticed Dez. Before she could speak, Derrick did.