Chapter 11

11

E sme had never felt so alone in her own bar.

In the three days since Sasha had caught her with Nora, they hadn’t spoken. Sasha refused to talk to her. She hadn’t told anyone else about what she’d seen as far as Esme could tell, but she hadn’t been willing to sit down with Esme and have a talk. It was starting to get awkward; Ruby and Cam were noticing the frigid chill coming from Sasha, and Esme felt the weight of Sasha’s disapproval more heavily by the moment.

She was probably going to have to explain things to Ruby and Cam, whether she liked it or not. Ruby, writer that she was, would probably have some level of sorrowful understanding of the situation. Feckless Cam with her string of conquests would also get it on some level. But overall, they, too, would probably be at least a little bit dismayed that Esme had gotten involved with the woman whose primary current goal was to crush all of their dreams.

The crazy thing was that Esme had sat with herself for two long nights trying to find the shame and regret that Sasha seemed to think she should be feeling. All she could find was an ache of longing for Nora, and sorrow that she’d inadvertently hurt her feelings with her panicked words.

It’s nothing! It’s just sex!

Of course it wasn’t. It never had been, and Esme could fully, openly acknowledge that to herself now. It was why she had always found an excuse to snap at Nora and push her away whenever something happened that got Esme a little too close to making herself aware of the deep truth of it all. It had never once been nothing, never only been sex. Their connection the first time they met had been immediate and strong. It was just amazing that Nora hadn’t run away when Esme had been so entirely unpredictable, time and again.

Until now. The nothing comment, made in a moment of fright when Esme just wanted to defuse Sasha’s anger, had apparently been Nora’s last straw. Esme couldn’t blame her for that.

She did wish, however, that Nora would give her a chance to apologize. For three days now she’d tried to text and to call, begging for a minute of time. Just a chance to explain how sorry she was. She was fairly certain she hadn’t been blocked, but she wasn’t being answered. Which meant that Nora was seeing her attempts at outreach and was actively deciding to not respond. She was making a conscious choice.

That hurt, but Esme knew she deserved it and more. So, she’d been sitting with the pain, letting herself feel it completely, a bit masochistically.

It was harder to sit with Sasha’s disapproval. But she didn’t know how to explain things to Sasha in a way that would make her understand. Mostly because she herself didn’t understand. Acknowledging the depth of her attraction to Nora didn’t magically make her able to understand it. Sasha was right, Nora wanted to take away the most important thing in Esme’s life. So how could Esme still miss her so badly, want her so much? She should be furious with Nora, she thought. Or even happy that Nora seemed to be done with her and would no longer be emotionally complicating her life. Because ever since Esme had met that impossible, gorgeous, magnetic woman, her life had been upended. She was going to lose the one thing she’d ever believed in with a deep and abiding passion, the thing to which she had devoted half her life, because of this woman. So why was she almost just as sad about Nora ignoring her as she was about losing the Lounge?

The long and short of it was that Esme just didn’t know. Which meant she couldn’t talk to Sasha about it. That, she just had to deal with. Esme was coping by making sure she was always at the opposite end of the bar from Sasha, or avoiding the kitchen, or holing herself up in her office, as she was now. The time alone was giving her a lot of room to think about whether or not she could figure out a way to save the Lounge.

At this point, there was no way Nora wouldn’t kick her out. Esme was sure of that. She was either going to have to find a new space somewhere else or… hell. Buy the Fairchild. Esme lifted her head up to look at the photos on her office walls. It felt like they were all staring back at her, their smiles mocking. Buy the Fairchild? You? You barely have a dollar in change in your wallet.

No. That was impossible. Esme rested her chin in her hand and sighed.

There was a tap at her office door. Surprised, Esme turned in her chair and opened the door. It further surprised her to see Oliver Fairchild standing there, an anxious expression on his face. “Esme?”

“Ollie. Long time no see.” The Fairchilds she did like seemed to have been avoiding her since the sale news broke, when usually they were in at least once every couple of weeks to have lunch. But she was glad to see Oliver despite everything. “What’s up?”

“I’m uncomfortable even bringing this up,” Oliver said, and he looked it. “But we haven’t heard from Nora Hartley in a few days. Since the building sale affects you, I was wondering if… maybe she’d talked to you lately?”

Esme looked at him. Is he for real ? “Me? You really think she’d talk to me?”

He actually squirmed. “One of the last meetings we had with her, I spotted some notes on her desk. Listings for spaces that would be appropriate for a place like the Indigo Lounge. I thought she might be working with you on relocating.”

Esme felt her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “That’s interesting news, Oliver. But no, I haven’t been working with her on that; I’ve been working on my own to see what options I might have.” She looked at her desk and started to fidget with some of the paperwork there, unsure what to make of the info she’d just been given. She breathed in deep. “I haven’t heard from her.”

“Ah. Okay.” Oliver still stood in the doorway, and when Esme turned to focus on him again, he didn’t seem to know what to do. Finally, he just said, “Well, if you do hear from her, let her know we’re looking for her. Alexandra is actually furious… if she wants to just reach out to me directly, that’s okay.”

“Sure, Ollie. Okay. It was nice seeing you.” She sat in her desk chair and smiled until he went away. When his footsteps faded into the general noise of the Lounge and she couldn’t pick them out anymore, Esme grabbed her tote bag from under her desk and hustled out of her little office, taking swift steps to get to the bar.

Sasha glared at her, but Cam, in today to wait tables, looked her over with interest. “Where are you going, E?”

“Just… out. Got a meeting.” She avoided meeting Sasha’s increasingly thunderous gaze. “I’ll be back.”

With that, Esme turned and headed for the back entrance to retrieve her car.

She’d never made an effort to visit the building Nora’s firm called home. That seemed a little too much like personal involvement, and of course that was something she had been fighting against.

Now, Esme stood outside of the glass-coated high rise and felt like a gawking tourist as she stared up at it. She felt very, very small. No wonder Nora had felt like she could come in and just crush the Lounge under her exquisitely-shod foot. Swallowing, Esme stepped into the revolving door before she could lose her nerve.

It was so strange to be here. This building was only a mile away from the Fairchild, but the worlds couldn’t be more different. No ornate wrought iron here, no cascading plants. Here it was all glass and granite and chrome, carefully cultivated slender trees in pots, tasteful abstract watercolor art. It somehow was and wasn’t what she expected of Nora.

Twisting the raffia handles of her tote bag, Esme stepped over to the reception desk. Her mouth was dry and she rued leaving her water bottle behind. “I’d like,” she began, but had to pause and swallow. “I’d like to see Nora Hartley, please.”

The forbidding-looking receptionist, a young man with perfectly sculpted auburn hair, skin that spoke to an expensive nightly routine, and a sharply cut suit, raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have an appointment? People don’t just ‘see’ Ms. Hartley.”

“I’m aware.” This was starting to feel like a mistake. But she hadn’t gotten this far in life by backing down. “Please let her know that Esme Bloom is here to see her about the Fairchild Building.”

The young man didn’t roll his eyes at her, but Esme certainly got the feeling that he wanted to. Still, he picked up the receiver of a shiny black phone and pressed a button. “A Ms. Bloom is here to see Ms. Hartley. She says it’s about the Fairchild Building.” He paused, and then his eyes widened. “Really? I mean… yes, Ms. McIntire.”

Esme waited as he hung up. Looking like he thought this was all a bad idea, the receptionist shook his head and met her gaze. “Right. Well, you can go up. Not those elevators,” he said just as Esme was about to head to the bank of six elevators in the center of the atrium. He pointed to a far corner of the large room, to a trio of small, glass-enclosed elevators. “The express cars go to the private floors. Take the middle one and use this key card.” Passing her a heavy, metallic old-gold card with a simple script H engraved on it, he waved her off. “Return that when you come back down,” he called after her.

It felt like forever crossing the huge atrium over to the express elevator bank. And she was sure people were staring at her, the way she didn’t look like them, how she was in a long tank dress compared to their designer power suits, carrying a straw tote instead of a Birkin. Esme fought not to scurry onto the two-person elevator like some sort of furtive criminal. She held her head high and swiped the key card.

The ride up to the top floor was smooth, the music piping into the small space pleasant. Esme kept twisting the handles of her bag, the raffia rough against her palms.

Finally, the elevator glided to a stop and the mirrored brass doors slid open with a soft chiming bell. Esme stepped out into a bright and warm space, so well-lit from the sunlight streaming in through the large, tinted windows that there wasn’t a single overhead light turned on. The office was elegant and minimalist, in a way that reminded Esme of Nora herself.

It was an open sort of area, with a polished wood desk to her right, and a few wide doorways leading into different rooms; the one to her left was clearly a printer room, with a huge Xerox machine gleaming in the corner. To her right, she thought she saw a small kitchenette, with a very expensive-looking, professional-grade espresso maker near the door.

The center doorway wasn’t fully opened. Esme was fairly certain Nora wouldn’t be sitting at the nearby desk in this big open area, so this central doorway surely had to lead to her office. Was she in there now? Esme strained to see if she could hear anything, any typing or talking or even a chair wheeling over the pale wooden floors.

Silence.

She inched forward, extending her hand out to push the door open.

“She’s not there.”

Esme whirled around. A stunning redhead leaned in the doorway of the kitchenette, her arms crossed over her cream linen shirtwaist dress, a cup of yogurt in one hand. “Sorry,” she said, her red lips curving into a friendly smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you; I was just getting myself a snack.” She held up the yogurt.

“Oh,” Esme said.

“I’m Laurie McIntire, Nora’s assistant.” The woman stepped forward, hand extended. Esme took it, still a bit bemused. But after a moment, something occurred to her.

“I know that name,” Esme said, still holding Laurie’s hand. “You’ve been ordering from us like crazy for weeks.”

“Have I?” Laurie grinned as she tugged her hand free and walked over to sit on the edge of the nearby desk.

Esme thought, then nodded. “Nora has.”

“She thinks your chef doesn’t like her very much. It seemed safer to order under a different name.”

“Fair enough.” Esme chuckled. “She is correct, Sasha doesn’t like her at all. But she’d never tamper with anyone’s food, I promise.”

“Well, it was just a precaution. And I got a lot of excellent free lunches for my trouble.” Laurie pushed herself further back on the desktop and leaned back on her hands. Her crossed ankles swung back and forth as she observed Esme with a keen eye.

Esme looked around. “So… you said Nora isn’t here?”

“No. She’s out scouting out some properties, having a business dinner. I was just waiting for the cleaning staff to come do their thing so I could lock up and leave.” She cocked her head. “But I wanted to meet you, so I cleared you to come up.”

“Me?” Esme felt her hands go back to twisting up her bag handles.

“You,” Laurie confirmed. “You’re the first person I’ve ever seen rattle the Big Boss Lady. And when I was doing my research into the Indigo Lounge, you impressed me. So yes, I wanted to meet you.”

Esme let go of her bag and held her arms out wide. “Well, here I am. What you see is what you get.”

“You know, I believe that, I really do. And what I see, I like. What I’ve found out, I like.” But suddenly, her bright smile faded into something more serious, and her gray eyes narrowed. “I don’t like how you’ve upset my boss, though. Especially after she’s really compromised herself ethically over you.”

That got Esme to lift her chin high. “I never asked her to. I never asked her for any of this.”

“Didn’t exactly discourage it with your full chest though, eh?” Laurie waved a dismissive hand. “But it doesn’t matter. I know what an irresistible attraction feels like. The trouble it can cause.” Once again, she locked eyes with Esme. “I didn’t ask you up here to give you more grief. From what I know of this whole situation, you have enough on your plate. I just…” She inhaled and sat up straight, drawing her shoulders back. “I have a deep respect and even affection for my employer. Not like what you’re probably thinking. I’m married.” A quicksilver smile. “My spouse is amazing. As amazing as Ms. Hartley, and I know I’m lucky to be married to them, so in my opinion, it follows that anyone who connects with Ms. Hartley should be aware of just how lucky they are to have her.”

Esme raised an eyebrow. “I don’t exactly have her.”

“Oh, but you could. Even now, when she’s clearly hurt by whatever went wrong the other night—I sent her off to you happy, she came back the next day silent as the grave—even now, you could be with her, if you wanted. And you would be lucky.” Laurie’s gaze was challenging.

Once more, Esme’s bag handles had to bear the brunt of her nerves. “To be honest, Ms. McIntire, I really only came here to relay a message. I’m not comfortable continuing on with this conversation. It’s a bit personal.”

Laurie nodded. “I understand. Absolutely. The message?”

“Oliver Fairchild came to see me and said he’d been having trouble reaching Nora. They hadn’t heard from her in a few days.” Her mouth was dry. “I can only assume they want to finalize the building sale.”

Now Laurie’s eyes softened and there was something like… admiration? “You really are one hell of a woman. I know what this building sale means for you. Yet you came anyway.”

Esme hesitated. “Well. I did also hope to see Nora. She’s been ignoring me. Not that I blame her.”

“Even so.” Pushing herself off the desk, Laurie walked around to the chair and opened a drawer. She pulled out a cell phone and tapped a message into it, then looked up at Esme with a smile. “Message conveyed.”

It was a clear dismissal. But at least Nora surely knew now how far Esme was willing to go to get in touch with her. Maybe that would mean something. She ducked her head in a nod and stepped towards the elevator. “Thanks.”

“I’ll see you around, Ms. Bloom.” Laurie waved as Esme watched her through the closing elevator doors. She hadn’t gotten to apologize to Nora, but her spunky assistant had certainly given her a lot of food for thought in that brief conversation.

“No, no, no. I don’t think this will work. It’s hardly bigger than the space being vacated.” Nora’s footsteps echoed through the empty retail space, and she tapped thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “To say nothing of the kitchen. It’s miniscule, it would cost too much to overhaul it to a more suitable size.” She shook her head at the owner of the restaurant property. “Sorry. This isn’t going to work.”

She’d hit the ground running after that last disastrous night at the Indigo Lounge. Laurie had compiled a list of available stand-alone restaurant spaces for rent in various parts of LA, and Nora had visited each one personally.

Unfortunately, the hunt was not going well, because each one had fallen dramatically short.

Some were too big. Too small. The rent was higher than she estimated Esme would be able to afford. The number of repairs or renovations needed was too large. The location didn’t feel right. She’d been all over the city the last three days, her feet hurt, and her driver was on the verge of quitting, but she couldn’t stop.

If she’d had anyone close in her life, they’d call her insane for wanting to find a good landing space for the woman who had hurt her more times than she could count. Hell, Nora was calling herself crazy. She, who had put her career before anything else for more than a decade, who had closed deals and evicted tenants countless times without a second thought… for her, this was softness. Vulnerability.

But was it? Was it really? Nora lifted her head and shook her hair back from her face while the property owner babbled on about the better features of the abandoned Italian bistro. She wanted to be done with this entire emotional rollercoaster, that was all. To not have to deal with Esme or the Indigo Lounge again. Finding a place for the Lounge to go once she closed on the Fairchild and closed down the hangout spot was just the most logical way to guarantee the outcome she wanted.

And if I buy that , Nora thought ruefully as she paced back and forth, I have a bridge to sell myself.

Not very deep down, she knew that for the first time in her career, she was allowing herself to fully realize the consequences of the many evictions she’d been the instrument of in her business dealings. They’d all resulted in the dismantling of someone else’s dreams in the pursuit of her own. Falling for Esme had finally put a human face on the cost of her ruthlessness and efficiency.

This wasn’t actually about getting Esme out of her life. This was about mitigating the damage she’d caused, for once. Because she’d fallen in love, and that hadn’t made her soft, it had reminded her that she was a human being, and the choices she made affected other humans.

Nora stopped in her tracks and blinked. Love?

Oh, hell.

Before she could begin to process that, her phone buzzed in her suit pocket. With a brisk nod, she gestured to the building owner that she was stepping out to check her messages.

The LA sunshine made her blink as she hit the sidewalk, and she had to squint a bit to make out the message on her phone’s screen. It was from Laurie.

Esme came by. She had a message for you from the Fairchilds…

Nora groaned. She’d been dodging their outreach efforts even harder than she’d been dodging Esme’s.

…but I don’t think that was her main reason for coming to the office. I like her, Boss Lady. Consider giving her one more chance? At least hear her out, whatever she has to say.

Oh, unfair. Laurie knew full well that Nora was already struggling with sticking to her guns. She couldn’t know, of course, that Nora was also now struggling with feelings.

Actually, she probably did. Laurie was astute like that. Nora scowled at her phone. She didn’t really want to keep putting Esme off, but she couldn’t face Esme without a plan. Why couldn’t she find the right home for the Lounge?

“Ms. Hartley?” The building owner had emerged from the battered old hulk of a restaurant and was standing near her on the sidewalk. “Did you need to see the building again?”

“No. Thank you, but no. It’s just not quite right.” Nora shook her head. She had too much on her mind and needed time and space to gather her thoughts together. Spotting a park across the street, Nora passed her phone to her driver through the car window, and then took off at a trot.

Under the shade of a large oak tree, she found a bench that, miraculously, no one else was occupying at the moment. She smoothed her skirt and sat down to get her thoughts in order for.

One: She was in love with Esme Bloom. Even though Esme drove her nuts and had hurt her badly, even though she’d long ago decided to put her future over her feelings, here she was.

Two: She was at the point of no return on the Fairchild Building purchase. She had to finish the deal and buy the building.

Three: Buying the building meant evicting all the existing tenants, because they were all either not profitable or dancing on a razor’s edge, and Nora wanted a fresh, profitable start.

Four: Since Esme Bloom was one of those tenants, how she felt about Esme was going to be moot as soon as she terminated Esme’s contract. Esme, very understandably, had been emotionally divided all through their affair, but this would absolutely drive her away from Nora for good.

Five: She wanted to find a space for Esme to go, so that there was a chance for Esme’s dream to live on. Nora was under no illusions that this would sway Esme back into her arms. She just wanted to do what she thought would be the right thing.

Nora picked at her cuticles. What would really be great, she thought wistfully, was a perfect solution. Like she’d find the perfect new home for the Lounge, one where it would thrive and Esme’s future would be secured. The conflict between them would be resolved as a result, and they could waltz off into the sunset together.

Ha. Nora snorted out loud, startling a squirrel on the trunk of the tree she was sitting under. She watched the fuzzy-tailed creature disappear up into the canopy and sighed. Even the wildlife didn’t want to be around her.

The fairytale sunset ending was so unlikely to happen… but as she thought about it, the more Nora wanted it. The more she desperately wanted to find the magical unicorn of a retail space that would be ideal for a café with a huge kitchen for Esme’s cranky genius chef, a wide central bar with space for any drink you could think of, a stage that could fit an entire band and a dance floor for half of LA to get down on.

Gears began to turn in her brain. Basically, what they needed was the Lounge, but… bigger. Right? Everything she’d been able to gather about the Lounge from her own observations and the data from the Fairchild file was that it was hugely popular, which was why it always at least broke even. It was just too small to be as profitable as its popularity indicated it should be.

Why hadn’t Esme ever expanded? There were four retail spaces on the ground floor, and only one other was taken up, the space across the way with the ailing accessories boutique. There should have been plenty of space for Esme to rent and expand into. Nora frowned. Esme wasn’t dumb, she would have known expansion would help her.

That meant that it had to be a Fairchild cockblock. How stupid of them! A larger, more profitable Indigo Lounge would have put more money into the Fairchilds’ pockets. But if Nora had learned anything about the three siblings over the last couple of months, it was that Alexandra was petty to the point of short-sightedness, and her brothers had licorice whips for spines.

What if … she tapped her chin and sank more deeply into thought. What if the Lounge could stay where it was, and she allowed it to expand? Without that roadblock, Esme and the Indigo Lounge could thrive. She wouldn’t have to move and worry that too much of her clientele wouldn’t follow her to the new location. The chef would get the kitchen of her gourmet dreams, actual full bands could come play shows and they’d have a backstage area to rest in, the increased action on the dance floor would be capable of triggering an earthquake. And Esme could have a nice big office, perfect for kissing and… and more than kissing. Nora blushed and shook her naughty thoughts away.

Esme’s dreams could live on, if she could expand the Lounge. Could the ideal solution really have been in front of Nora all along?

There was the matter of funding, of course. But… Nora stood up and began to head back towards her car. She had some ideas, they were coming in hand over fist, but she needed her phone immediately.

Because she was going to save the Indigo Lounge.