Chapter 12

12

E sme had been putting this team meeting off for the last two months, but it was time. She sat on the landing of the mezzanine stairs, a clipboard clutched in her hands, and stared sadly down at her employees.

Natalie, the best barista Downtown LA had ever seen. Cam, an amazing pinch-hitter who could fill almost any position in the Lounge. Gina, Charlotte, Steph, and Nichole, some of the most loyal wait staff in the entire city. Kaylee and Regina the bartenders, true mistresses of their craft who created delicious magical elixirs. Claire, Sophie, and Rebecca, the kitchen staff that helped keep things ticking over in the back. Shawna and Mel, the bouncers that kept them all safe.

Gathered together at the bottom of the stairs, they were all watching her, apprehension in their eyes and worry creasing their brows. All with their livelihoods in her hands, a heavy responsibility to bear.

And then there was Sasha, still angry, arms crossed over her chest, still not speaking to Esme unless she had to. Esme couldn’t even meet her challenging gaze.

For efficiency’s sake, she’d also invited Ruby, Mia, and Harper to this meeting, even though they didn’t work for her. They were dear friends, and regulars, and they deserved to hear this news directly from her. Esme took a deep breath. “Thank you all for coming today. I know everyone usually has plans on Sundays, so I appreciate you rearranging things for me.”

The room seemed to be one enormous held breath. Esme’s hands wrapped even more tightly around the clipboard, which she was really only holding to have something to do with her hands. The edges bit into her fingers. She didn’t even know where to begin.

“Esme?” Ruby asked, softly, her brow furrowed with concern.

Just dive in . Esme sat up straighter. “There’s no easy way to say this. I know most of you know that the Fairchild Building is being purchased by a major corporate real estate firm. And that they want to evict us. We’ve all been working flat out the last few weeks to get more people in, we’ve held fundraisers, we’ve done all we can to increase our profitability.” When she looked down at her clipboard, she was surprised to see teardrops falling onto it. “It hasn’t been enough, and I wanted to tell you that I’ve decided to let the eviction happen.”

Gasps and cries of shock echoed through the Lounge, followed by an immediate and increasingly loud wave of murmurings. Esme watched them talk amongst themselves, keeping an especially close eye on Sasha as Ruby tugged at her arm. Sasha’s gaze was still locked onto Esme, still angry. Esme was fairly certain that Sasha wouldn’t have some sort of revealing outburst, but the intensity of the staring made her squirm.

She cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention and went on. “Obviously, I don’t want to close down. You all know how important the Indigo Lounge is to me, and I know how important it is to you, too. I’ve been hoping a better solution to stay would present itself, but no luck so far. I don’t even know where to begin with relocating… or if I should.”

More mutters and mumblings filled the room. Harper waved to catch Esme’s attention. “You should have told us more, kept us updated,” she admonished. “You know Deb and I would have been willing to help you with an investment, financing.”

“That felt like too much to ask of you. If we were more financially healthy…” Esme brushed her hair back from her face and breathed in deep. “We’ve been on the razor’s edge for years. Honestly, this is all my fault. I knew we needed to expand, and I should have moved us years ago when it became clear the Fairchilds weren’t going to let me rent the space next door and expand into it.”

Mia had been holding Harper’s hand, but she let go and pushed her way forward to climb the stairs and sit next to Esme. She wrapped a warm arm around Esme’s shoulders. “Profitability doesn’t matter, mija , we would have helped… but I understand. And I know it couldn’t have been easy to even think about leaving here.” She looked around the room, and Esme lifted her head to follow her gaze, knowing they were both seeing the ghosts of performers and guests past leaning against railings and sitting at the bar. “All these memories. Half your life, sí ? No, no one can blame you for that.”

Esme smiled ruefully. “Well, you can blame me for getting involved with Nora Hartley.”

Total silence reigned. Mia’s arm fell away from her shoulder and she leaned back to look at her with incredulity written all over her face. “Say what, girl?”

Well, that cat was well and truly out of the bag now. “Normally, I wouldn’t involve you all in my personal life, but this…” Casting her gaze heavenward, Esme blew a big clump of her bangs off of her forehead. “I don’t regret it, although it was crazy?—”

“An understatement, honey,” Harper chimed in. “You two were at loggerheads that one time I saw her come in and ask to talk to you. Sleeping together? How’d that even happen?”

“Yeah, Esme, how’d it happen?” Sasha asked with narrowed eyes.

Surveying the array of her employees and friends all focused on her, awaiting her response, Esme squirmed again. “It just did. And it didn’t end well, as you’d expect, since she wanted to close this place down and I didn’t… but I went too far, said one thing wrong one too many times. So even if we had a chance to stay in the Lounge, I don’t think she’d be interested in hearing me out after the way I’ve acted.” She picked at her cuticles. “Anyway. I think we have to close. I haven’t decided what to do next. I’m sorry, so sorry that I’ve caused all of this, that I don’t have any answers for you. But you did deserve to know about the mess I’ve dropped you in, and I promise I’ll try to figure things out so that?—”

A noisy pounding at the Lounge door interrupted her. Everyone craned their necks to see who it was. Esme stood and leaned over the stairway railing to catch a glimpse, and she gasped.

Nora.

Nora, and she wasn’t alone. Oliver and Matthew Fairchild were standing behind her, and all three of them looked excited. “Please, Esme. Let us in.”

Sasha had begun to walk to the door when Esme leaped down the stairs and pushed past her. Fumbling with the locks, she eventually got them all unlatched and yanked the door open. For a moment, she just stood there in the doorway, staring at Nora, and she knew she had a big dopey grin on her face.

Oliver waved a hand, peering over Nora’s shoulder. “Are you going to let us in?”

“Oh! Um. Yes. Sorry.” Esme stood back and gestured for them to come in. But as Nora passed, she grabbed her hand and held her in place. Their eyes met, and it made Esme’s heart hurt to see the shuttered, closed-off indifference in Nora’s. “I’m so sorry, Nora,” she said in a whisper, hoping Nora could see the sincerity in her face.

Perhaps she did. Nora’s face softened just a bit, and she squeezed Esme’s hand. “We can talk later.” She looked at everyone gathered there. “I’ve got something more important to discuss now. It’ll affect you all.”

“Jesus, not more,” Cam muttered, running a hand through her hair. “Esme’s already told us we’re gonna have to shut down, are you here to rub salt in that wound?”

Nora looked at Esme, startled. “You’re shutting down?”

“I’m not fighting you on the eviction, I won’t try to convince you to let us stay open.” Esme clarified. “And I told them about us.”

“Oh.” Nora blinked. Then she shook her head. “We’ll talk about the second half of that later, too. For now, let’s talk about not closing the Lounge.”

Chatter and babble erupted around them, but Esme just kept staring up at Nora, frowning in confusion. “We’re not profitable enough to stay here. You’ve said that. For you, it makes better business sense not to have a struggling café in this building.”

“I also said I didn’t think said café was a good fit for what this neighborhood is growing into.” Nora raised an eyebrow. “I’ve said a lot of surprisingly ill-thought-out things over the last couple of months.”

Esme’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t say that to me!”

“She said it to me.” Oliver stepped forward. “Esme, I want to apologize for telling you there was no hope or future for the Lounge. I’ve thought hard about it for the last few weeks.”

“I’ve been giving him hell about it myself,” Matt volunteered as he leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Asshole thing to say. The Lounge belongs here.”

Now Esme was more confused than ever. She looked at each of them, swiveling her head as she sought understanding. “Ollie, you said even expanding wouldn’t help us. And Nora, what even is this about us not fitting in?”

“I’m glad you put those two thoughts together.” Nora tugged her through the crowd of employees and friends and up the staircase to the mezzanine. Dropping Esme’s hand, she clapped for attention, three quick sharp rifle reports echoing through the nearly-empty cavern of a dance hall. “Folks, I’ve got some ideas to save the Indigo Lounge.”

Nora reveled in the shock, cautious delight, and hopeful confusion on the faces around her. It wasn’t a series of reactions she’d had reason to cause before, and she rather liked it.

She didn’t revel for long. There was no time to. For her plans to work, they all had to hit the ground running tomorrow morning when the banks opened for the day. Nora clasped her hands and addressed the group, aware the whole time of Esme’s trembling presence beside her. “All right. I’ve been doing some research the last few days, trying to find a place for the Lounge to relocate to.” At the start of disgruntled mumbling, she held up a hand. “Hey, I don’t normally get involved with the post-eviction life of the businesses that were in my buildings. I did this time because of Esme.”

At the sound of a tiny gasp from Esme, Nora turned her head and smiled. “Your spirit and the clear love you have for the Lounge, the love everyone here has for it and for you… that got to me. You got to me in a way no one has in a long time, Esme. Even though you really have done a number on me emotionally these last few weeks.” She grinned at Esme’s blush, then turned back to the crowd. “It’s become clear to me that the Lounge really does belong here, where it is. It was founded on hopes and dreams and sheer good fortune thanks to Leonard Fairchild. Moving it to any other location would just… kill all of that. I don’t think it would recover. It certainly wouldn’t be the same.”

Next to her, Esme let out a tiny whimper before asking, “But how can we survive here?”

“You can’t, the way you are. But I think I need to take a leaf out of Leonard’s book. I remember the story you told me, Esme, about how he took a chance on you. It’s stuck with me.”

“Go on,” Esme breathed.

“I would like you to expand into the empty space next door. Oliver says you’ve been trying to get them to rent it to you for years. Take and make a new Indigo Lounge. Same heart and soul but bigger. Room for more clientele, a stage that can fit a goddamn symphony orchestra.” Nora nodded at the chef, who was glowering at the two of them. “The gourmet kitchen of your Michelin star dreams, Chef.”

Esme’s mouth was hanging open. “Oh, I… I can’t afford to expand and do a full overhaul at that level—I was going to DIY the new spaces.”

“That’s where we come in,” Matt volunteered. “We want to invest in the Lounge, Esme.”

It was gratifying to see Esme’s face in that moment, the blend of hope and shock. “Matty, no, I can’t…”

“Dad would want it if he were still here.” Matt pushed off of the wall and came to lean on the staircase railing. He stared up at Esme, his face earnest. “He believed in you. We’re going to carry on that legacy.”

“With one catch.” Oliver strolled up, hands in his jeans pockets and a grin on his face. “We want to dedicate Dad’s usual bar stool and spot at the bar to him. Get some plaques and everything to commemorate the way he came in here once a week to order one dirty gin martini and a basket of fries. The whole nine.”

Tears had begun to stream down Esme’s face. Nora reached for her hand and squeezed it in support. “How’s that sound to you, Esme? Can you make that deal?”

“I can,” Esme gasped between sobs. “I can. Oh, Matty, Ollie…”

A gorgeous, statuesque black woman bustled up, determination in her golden eyes. “I’m in, too, Esme. I wouldn’t have met Mia if it weren’t for this place.” She cast a brilliant smile back at her girlfriend, who was watching her with hearts in her big brown eyes. “She wouldn’t have her career if it weren’t for you. We want to help give the next generation of iconic queer women artists their big chance.”

“Harper,” Esme squeaked out, but fell silent as the woman waved a graceful hand.

“Deb’ll want to get involved, too,” Harper said. “You know she’s been wanting to do a documentary on this place for years? What a story you have to tell, and WebFlix is an amazing platform for it. More people will know about the incredible, inclusive sapphic space you’ve built here.”

“Wait,” Nora interjected. “Deb Morgan?” She’d thought she’d seen someone who resembled the CEO of one of the world’s biggest streaming services here a few weeks ago during that first non-starter of a meeting she’d had with Esme. But she had dismissed it as preposterous. Apparently, she’d been wrong. Nora shook her head in wonder.

And in admiration. Esme had clearly had no idea of the complete force of her impact on the sapphic community of Los Angeles, on the Fairchild brothers, on some of the most powerful women in the entertainment industry—Nora now realized that “Harper” was record-company owner and hotshot producer Harper Nightingale—but it was becoming more obvious by the second that she was bigger than she’d ever known.

Nora was so glad she’d been able to pull herself away from the edge of one of the biggest mistakes of her life and career.

Everyone swarmed Esme and began talking all at once, excitement and joy bubbling up and filling the air. Nora got hustled out of the way and found herself standing by the one person who didn’t seem carried away with happiness: the Lounge chef.

“So what’s this? Some new angle for you to fuck us over? And hurt Esme?” The woman’s arms were crossed firmly over her chest, and her stubborn chin was lifted in the air.

“No. No angles. This is...” Nora hesitated. “Sorry. I don’t know your name?”

“Sasha.”

“Sasha.” Nora nodded. “No, this is all real, Sasha. I’m buying this building, and I’m going to help Esme keep the Lounge in it.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “You don’t have to believe me or trust me. But I hope you’ll stay on even if you don’t like me. I meant it when I said we’d get you that big, new kitchen.”

“I can’t be bought,” Sasha scoffed.

“Wouldn’t dream of trying. Just making sure you’re fully informed.” She smiled. “Please excuse me. I’ll leave you to think about it. For the record, I’m sorry that my buying the building and getting involved with Esme caused so much tension. I hope you two can make up.”

With that, she made her way through the crowd to reach Esme and grabbed her hand. “Come with me,” she whispered, and pulled her down from the stairs. Esme’s happy laughter trailed behind them as Nora led her to her tiny, tiny office.

“This is definitely going to have to be included in the renovations,” Nora said, closing the door behind them. She scooped Esme up and deposited her on top of a scattered pile of paperwork on the desk, then dropped into the desk chair. With a couple of scoots, she was sitting between Esme’s knees, her arms crossed to make a bridge she could prop her chin on and stare happily up into the lovely brown eyes she adored so much.

Esme’s hands stroked over Nora’s hair, and the smile on her face matched how Nora felt. “I like my office,” she objected mildly. “It’s cozy.”

“It’s impossible,” Nora corrected, but she let it go. There’d be time to talk about the office later. She had still more important things to talk to Esme about. “Esme, I’m sorry I ran out the other night, that I ignored your calls and texts.”

“No. Shh.” Esme’s hands fluttered over her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Nora. For being so difficult and prickly, for saying that what we had was nothing… it was so much. It wasn’t nothing.”

“Thank you. Apology accepted.” Nora hesitated, gathering her thoughts. “Esme, can we start over? I want to try again. Do things right. I want to take you to dinner, have proper dates, go on bike rides together.”

“I want all that, too.” One delicate hand cupped Nora’s chin and lifted her to sit up taller. “I want to show you how you’re everything to me.”

Nora’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh.”

“I’ve been crazy and all kinds of up and down with you, but I care, Nora. I’ve missed you. And I hate that I hurt you. So yes. I want to start over and get things right from the beginning.”

Thrilled, Nora lunged up and took Esme’s face in her hands. In an instant, she was kissing the breath out of her, tasting coffee and chocolate, feeling electricity crackle down her spine as Esme kissed her back.

They were a wild, unlikely match, but nothing had ever made Nora feel more alive in her life. Her breath moved harshly through her nose as they kissed, and when Esme finally let her go, Nora dropped back into the desk chair like a lead weight. She grinned up at the impish pixie who had turned her life upside down.

“I do want you to know,” she said, “that I love you.”

Esme’s eyes went round. “That’s not exactly starting back at the beginning.”

“I feel like we can skip a few steps here and there.” Nora beamed.

Esme thought about it, then nodded, and when Esme spoke again, Nora had never been happier in her life.

“I love you, too,” she said. And in that instant, Nora felt a page in the book of her life turn, and the next chapter was ready to begin.