Chapter 8

8

“ N ot again,” Sasha snarled, slamming Ruby’s Green Goddess Smoked Tofu Panini down by the writer’s laptop so hard that a few of the homemade fried sweet potato chips Sasha only ever made for Ruby tumbled off the edge of the plate and onto the tiled bar top. Ruby jumped, eyes wide, and spun on her barstool to follow Sasha’s angry gaze. Esme, equally as startled at Sasha’s outburst, also looked up from where she was checking on the bar’s supply of cold beers and ciders. When her inquisitive eyes landed on the Lounge door, she immediately understood what had ignited Sasha’s fury.

And she blushed up to the roots of her hair because it was Nora. Esme knew she would have to encounter the woman again sometime, but four days after their Friday night tête-à-tête, in Esme’s eyes, seemed a little bit too soon. She swallowed hard. Oh, I don’t have the capacity to deal with… everything she represents. Not right now. Tuesday nights were a surprisingly big draw for the Indigo Lounge, because they had a Diversity Drag night each week. But tonight would be kicking off a month-long weekly diverse drag pageant, with kings and queens of all genders coming to compete for a crown. It had been in the works for months, lots of publicity had been put into it, and after the Chappell Roan Tribute Night last week, interest had only spiked. Esme remained up to her ears in phone calls and last-minute scheduling changes.

It was too much. She could not face Nora at this moment. Getting her out of here was the only solution. Striding over to the entrance, Esme blocked Nora’s path into the Lounge. “What are you doing here?”

To her surprise, Nora held her hands up. “Peace. I came for an early dinner.”

“You came for dinner. Here.” Esme scoffed and shook her head. “It is literally insane that you expect me to believe that.”

“Okay, I also hoped we might be able to talk. Calmly.” Nora kept her hands up. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Es… Ms. Bloom.”

“We don’t have to fight.” Esme tossed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled winningly. “All you have to do is give up your selfish quest to buy this building and throw me out.” And go very far away so I don’t have to think about what happened between us anymore…

“If I don’t buy the Fairchild, someone else will,” Nora snapped, dropping her hands. “And they may not be as inclined to help you successfully relocate as I am.”

As painful as her actual words were, Esme was pleased that she’d gotten a rise out of the real estate tycoon. She was usually so calm and poised, it annoyed Esme no end. This kind of reaction was like catnip. She tilted her head and broadened her smile. “But those are my terms.”

Nora looked down at her shoes and took a deep breath. Then another. Esme got the feeling that she was trying to keep her temper under control, and her delight increased. She also wondered what it might be like if Nora actually lost control of that temper. And if she dared to provoke her…

“It doesn’t have to be like this.” Nora’s soft words interrupted Esme’s wandering thoughts. “I feel like we don’t have to be at odds all the time. It’s the same argument going in circles.” Her blue eyes were clear and steady when her gaze met Esme’s. “Can we talk? Try to get on some kind of less antagonistic footing?”

Her apparent sincerity and—dared Esme even think it—something akin to vulnerability softened the edges of her sharp, polished beauty. And in turn, this softened Esme’s protect and attack instincts. “I…”

“If you have time now, I’d like it if you can join me for dinner.” Nora looked around at the Lounge, at the parade of drag performers that was beginning to trickle through the door and past her. “We can eat here, or we can go somewhere.”

Esme shook her head. “I can’t. We have a big weekly event starting tonight. There’s no way I can leave. You see how people are already arriving, and it doesn’t start for another hour.”

Nora nodded. “I do see. But Esme…” Her voice dropped, and Esme couldn’t find it in her to protest the familiarity. “I think we do need to talk.”

Nervously, Esme glanced around. Sasha and Ruby were watching them closely, along with Cam who’d just arrived to help out at the bar for the night. They all looked curious but were too far away to have overheard Nora. Esme cleared her throat. “Can you come back around 4 AM? At the back entrance.”

Hesitation crossed Nora’s face, but after a moment, she nodded. “I can make that work.”

“Bring Chinese food. There’s an all-night takeout kitchen a couple blocks over.” Esme stuck her hands into the pockets of her long, dark red skirt. “I get hungry after big nights like this one’s going to be, and Sasha closes the kitchen at midnight. The takeout kitchen knows me. Tell them you want an Esme special.”

“An Esme special. Got it.” Nora smiled softly. “Well, I’ll go find myself something for dinner and get some work done. See you at 4 AM.”

“See you,” Esme replied as Nora left. She walked back over to the bar, chewing on her bottom lip.

“What was that about?” Sasha was almost belligerent, her chin up as Esme slid behind the bar. “What did she want?”

“Dinner and a chat.” Esme thought it best to leave things as simple as possible. She was still trying to process the last few minutes, and she didn’t want to outright lie if she didn’t have to.

Cam was frowning. “What could she want to talk about?”

“I’m not sure.” That much was true. “I didn’t give her a chance to tell me.” Also, technically, true.

“You two looked almost friendly ,” Ruby noted sarcastically as she slid her laptop into her messenger bag. “Is that a good thing?”

Esme had tied her curls back into a low ponytail for the evening, and she pulled it over her shoulder now to fiddle with the end of it. “I don’t know. I really don’t know anything,” she admitted, and it was a statement that had never been truer in her life.

Sasha was still scowling. “Well, I don’t think you should get too friendly with her. Remember, E, she just wants to shut us down. Profits over sentiment, didn’t you say she said?”

“Something like that.” Esme felt her cheeks going pink again, because remembering the conversation on Friday evening only made her remember what else had happened Friday evening. Which she was pretty sure Nora wanted to talk about more than anything else.

And maybe do more than talk…

“I’ve got to go get payroll done,” Esme blurted, and scurried off to her office, trying to ignore the feeling of her friends’ stares on her back.

The takeout kitchen had indeed known what an “Esme special” was. And when they’d described the main dish of spicy garlic and green bean noodles to Nora, it had sounded so good, she ordered one for herself. Now she had a steamy plastic bag of Chinese food spreading delicious aromas all through her little Audi A3.

Nora didn’t often drive herself anywhere, but she didn’t want to involve any more people in her evening escapade than necessary. And it was good for her to keep her driving skills sharp, and to get the Audi out of her climate-controlled garage a couple of times a month. So, now here she was, driving up into the alleyway behind the Fairchild to park behind the Indigo Lounge and sneak in through the back door.

The back entrance was well lit, to her relief, and the back door had an intercom buzzer. Esme hadn’t given her instructions on whether to come right in or buzz. Nora jiggled the door handle experimentally—locked. Buzz it was. She pressed the red button.

“Hello?” Esme’s voice asked tinnily through the speaker box.

“It’s me.”

The door clicked and cracked open slightly. Nora let herself in, pulling the door firmly behind her. The back hallway of the Indigo Lounge was silent, dimly lit, and a bit creepier than the rest of the place had been. She began to tiptoe quietly towards the warm pink light of the main area of Lounge she could see ahead.

This back hallway was crowded with stacks of extra chairs and electrical equipment for the stage. It also seemed longer than it ought to be, but Nora figured that was just her nerves and the much-too-silent silence in the air. She desperately wanted to be in the main part of the Lounge but had to be careful in the darkness.

Suddenly, Esme appeared in the open doorway just as Nora reached it. Nora nearly jumped out of her skin in fright, and she heard Esme shriek at the sight of her. Stumbling backwards, Nora tripped and, thankfully, fell into the seat of a chair. The bag of Chinese food slipped from her hand and thumped onto the floor.

“You scared me,” both women exclaimed at the same time. Esme had her hand over her heart, and Nora was clutching her suddenly churning stomach.

In the next instant, they both dissolved into faintly hysterical giggles. The adrenaline that had flooded Nora faded to a more normal level. She reached down and picked up the intact bag of food before she got to her feet. “You’re lucky they knot these things up so tight,” she said, holding up the hot bag of food for Esme to see. “Otherwise, neither of us were getting fed tonight, and I bet you get real mean when you’re hungry.”

“I neither confirm nor deny the accusation.” Esme tilted her chin into the air. “But I am glad it’s safe. Follow me.”

They walked onto the little dance floor and then Esme took a right towards another hallway. A hallway Nora recognized. She realized that they were going to Esme’s office. The scene of the crime , she thought.

The office really was hardly more than a very tall closet, Nora observed. It was easier to look around it now that she wasn’t distracted by Esme dolled up like a naughty silver Tinkerbell. Esme’s paper-strewn desk was built into one wall, with three sturdy shelves full of binders and knickknacks secured into the wall above it. The chair Nora had sat in last Friday evening was a plain IKEA rolling one, plain black, with a colorful Indian sari silk pillow in the seat for extra cushioning. As working spaces went, it was functional but still with a bit of personality.

What was impressive about it was something she’d been too preoccupied to notice on Friday—the way every wall was almost tiled in neatly arranged framed, autographed photos of women, presumably ones who had performed at the Lounge. Since the room was far taller than it was wide, there were a lot of photos, stretching up the walls beyond Nora’s ability to see who might be in the ones on the top rows.

Esme followed her gaze up. “Twenty years of Lounge history,” she whispered, smiling with pride. “Cam and Sasha helped me put these up a few years ago. They left plenty of room for new photos, but it’s almost filled up now.” She pointed to a photo of a young woman with pink and black hair singing behind a keyboard. “I just added this one yesterday. Chloe was here last week, and I’ve had a couple of music industry people ask me for her contact info. I hope that leads to something good for her.”

Nora looked at the array of photos again in awe. She knew this couldn’t even be all of the people who had performed here over the years. These were the ones Esme wanted to remember above all, the memories that kept her going. And for Nora, it was another reminder of the impact the Indigo Lounge had. She was admittedly disconnected from the lesbian community, but even she knew who Melissa Etheridge and k.d. lang were. That even icons like these two had played the Lounge spoke loudly to its place in the sapphic zeitgeist. Nora swallowed hard.

Esme squeezed past her to stack some papers out of the way, then sat on the desk, pushing herself back and then reaching a hand out to Nora, wiggling her fingers. “Give me. Give me, give me, give me.”

Nora handed the bag over and sat down in the desk chair. “They’re both the same thing. Take whichever one you want.”

Pulling at the stubborn knot made from the handles of the plastic bag, Esme looked at Nora and quirked up one dark eyebrow. “You got an Esme special?”

“It sounded good.” Nora accepted the chopsticks and cardboard container that Esme passed to her. “How long have you been going there that they named a dish after you?”

Esme looked up towards the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on her face as she tapped her chopsticks against her lips. “Let’s see… they opened about two years after I did. So that long.” She smiled and took a bite of her noodles. Swallowing, she went on. “I was broke back then. They were, too. But they always made sure to include extra rice for me when I could order from them, and I made sure to send everyone over to them when they got hungry after a long night of dancing here. We helped each other.”

“Ah.” Nora heard the explanation but didn’t really register it. On the desk, Esme was sitting with her legs crossed, and that made her long skirt ride up. It didn’t reveal nearly as much as the silver minidress had, but the glimpse of her bare calf distracted Nora all the same. Clearing her throat, she looked around the office. Next to Esme on the desk was another framed photo, but this one was smaller, and not autographed. It was Esme with a young blonde woman who had her curly hair and big brown eyes. Nora pointed with her chopsticks. “Is that your sister?”

Esme looked down at the photo. “No. My daughter. Holly.”

That revelation rocked Nora like a thunderbolt. “You have a daughter?”

Again, Esme raised an eyebrow. “Lesbians have children, you know.”

“I’m not that out of touch, thank you. I do know that.” She looked at the photo more closely. “She looks like you.”

“The resemblance ends there, I’m afraid.” Esme chuckled and bit off some more noodles. “She’s far braver and more adventurous than I am. That, she gets from her father.”

“You know who her father is?”

“It was the late 90s. I didn’t have health insurance. I really had no choice but to know who her father was.” Another chuckle. “Keith was just a friend I met while he was doing his PhD at UCLA, and I was working in a coffee shop on campus. I wanted a kid, and after we talked about it a few times, he volunteered.”

Nora felt her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “That sounds risky as hell.”

“Well, it would have been, except we were not at all each other’s types.” Esme gave her a significant look. “We got tested, and we managed to make it work enough times to produce Holly. Keith went back to Australia after his doctorate was done and I got my girl all to myself.”

“So he’s not involved.” Nora was amazed at how forthcoming and even friendly Esme was being, and she couldn’t resist being nosy. “A faraway gay Australian PhD father sounds like the perfect setup.”

“It really was. But he did meet Holly later, when she was a teenager, and helped her get her Australian passport. She moved there to stay with him in Brisbane after she graduated high school.”

“You must miss her,” Nora ventured.

Esme shrugged, but there was a faraway look in her eyes. “I do, of course. But she’s a very talented surfer, and Australia has some of the best surfing in the world. So she’s following her dreams. I’d be a terrible parent if I didn’t encourage that.”

That made sense. And was an admirable stance. Nora felt certain that Esme hadn’t told her daughter about her troubles, not wanting to make the girl feel like she had to come home and support her mother. But then, Esme had one hell of a support system here already. From her Lounge employees and her regulars, and even local businesses. Hell, even two of the Fairchilds were on her side.

Nora wondered what that kind of support felt like. She’d always had to claw her way through and up on her own. Her own family had been financially supportive up through college, but otherwise were a holidays-only kind of folks, so she rarely saw them. And they hadn’t exactly been the warm and cuddly parent type anyway. She’d bet anything Esme had been a very attached mother.

Suddenly, it occurred to Nora to do some mental math. “You were a single lesbian mother when you opened up this place?”

“I wondered how long it would take you to get there.” Esme smirked. “Yes. Holly was three when I started trying to figure out how to open up my dream sapphic community hub. I was visiting banks and landlords with a toddler clinging to my skirt hem. In the early 2000s, though, that was a surprising asset. They wanted to help a scrappy, young, marginalized mom with a can-do attitude. What a time to be alive that was.”

Nora could picture it absolutely perfectly in her head. The neatly dressed plucky bohemian mother, less gray in her hair but no less steel in her spine. The tiny towheaded daughter in some kind of colorful romper, one hand clutching a wad of her mother’s long skirt and her thumb firmly in her tiny mouth. Yes, that was a vision any California businessman would have been hard put to resist at that time. They could be dreadfully easy to manipulate, as Nora knew herself.

Easy to manipulate… She sat up straight and shook her head. Her personal interest and attraction to Esme had blinded her. “You’re telling me all of this for a reason.”

“You asked,” Esme pointed out, but there was something a little too frank about the look in her eyes.

“Yes, I did.” And she’d also been braced for some form of antagonism since she’d arrived. Esme had softened enough earlier to invite her here to eat and talk, but that didn’t mean Nora had to relax entirely. She wanted to be ready in case she said something to set Esme off. And she’d thought that eventually, Esme would get annoyed at her nosiness.

Yet, that hadn’t happened. Esme hadn’t told her to where to shove her questions. She’d answered them in full detail, friendly, forthright, and matter of fact. Nora frowned. “What are you playing at?”

“Uh, nothing. Weren’t you the one who said it might be good for us to find some kind of non-antagonistic ground?” Esme set down her container of noodles and leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. “I am trying to meet you halfway here.”

Nora inhaled and held her breath for a moment while she thought. What she wanted to say would definitely start a fight, so she had to find a better way to put it. She breathed out and chose her words with care. “I feel like you have an agenda here, with what you’re telling me.”

Esme threw her hands in the air. “You asked me questions! I answered! What agenda could I possibly…” Her eyes went wide. “Oh, come on .”

“I just think—” Nora began, but stopped when Esme shook her head violently, her curls flying.

“You ‘just think’ that I’m na?ve enough to believe that you could be swayed by the can-do story of a lesbian mommy and her baby girl just trying to make their way in a cold, hard world.” Esme snorted. “Please! Give me some credit. I have been nothing but direct with you about my feelings and intentions. Why the hell would I resort to cheap, manipulative tactics like that now?”

I fucked up, Nora realized. Of course Esme wouldn’t consciously manipulate a situation. She, Nora, absolutely would. But Esme was not Nora. Esme was making a true effort to keep the peace that Nora herself had asked for, and now Nora had gone and blown it. What to do?

While she thought, Esme moved to push herself off of the desk. Nora guessed that her goal was to squeeze past and leave, but the office was just so small, and they were so close. Esme’s feet hit the floor, and Nora saw consternation flash across her face as she realized she’d landed standing between Nora’s thighs.

Nora seized her opportunity and grabbed Esme by the hips. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, crumpling the slippery, stretchy material of Esme’s skirt under her fingers. Their eyes met.

She expected Esme to push her away, to squeeze her way to the door and stomp out.

To have Esme reach her hand out and stroke it over Nora’s hair, down her cheek and along her jawline, then cup Nora’s chin and hold it with surprising firmness… that was a surprise.

Nora held her breath.

Esme didn’t know what had possessed her. Not at any point today, but especially not now.

She held Nora’s chin in her hand, her thumb stroking over Nora’s cheek. The energy between them tonight wasn’t as explosive as it had been Friday, but it was no less undeniable. Esme knew she should still be angry at the vague accusation of manipulation Nora had leveled at her, but at this moment all she could do was stare into the clear blue depths of her eyes.

Esme had such a weakness for a strong woman who wasn’t afraid to be a little subservient sometimes.

Gently, she pulled upward on Nora’s chin. Nora took the hint and stood up, while Esme pushed herself back onto her desk.

When their lips met, Esme sucked a harsh breath in through her nose at the way it set all her nerve endings alight. Entire flocks of butterflies felt like they were taking flight in her stomach. And between her legs, things were heating up in a hurry.

This time, she wasn’t going to stop Nora. She knew deep down she should, that if she didn’t, things were going to get very complicated very quickly. Yet as bad an idea as this very much was, she also knew they couldn’t go on with the push-pull of attraction strung between them. So why not give in? Why not find something good in all the conflict?

Her hands slid over the soft fabric of Nora’s loose white t-shirt, moved to pull the hem of it out of her blue jeans. Under Esme’s palms, the skin of Nora’s ribcage was velvety and warm.

She wasn’t wearing a bra. As Esme’s hands traveled upward and cupped her breasts, Nora’s nipples pebbled tight under her thumbs. Esme pulled back and looked Nora in the eye.

“I don’t wear bras after 10 PM,” Nora informed her in a husky rasp that sent shivers through Esme, straight to her vulva. Before she could reply, her mouth was covered by Nora’s again, and the more Esme stroked her thumbs over Nora’s bare nipples, the harder she found herself being kissed.

Nora groaned into her mouth when Esme unbuttoned her jeans and worked a hand into her panties. Slowly, Esme’s fingers slid through the warm, wet softness she found there, and she let the pad of her middle finger rub softly on Nora’s throbbing clit. “Fuck,” she mumbled into Esme’s mouth, her breath hot and ragged.

Esme kept one hand up Nora’s shirt, plucking at her nipple, and with the other she continued her relentless, gentle friction in Nora’s panties. She loved the soft sighs and whimpers Nora was making into her mouth, gulped them down like they were wine as she played with Nora. Slowly slipping her fingers gently in and out of her. Teasing through the wetness before rubbing her in strong, circular motions. Desperate to please.

Quicker than she would have thought, Nora’s body went stiff, and she ripped her mouth from Esme’s to let out a long, guttural moan. Head thrown back, eyes closed, teeth clenched tight, Nora was the hottest sight Esme had seen in a while. Her hands were pulled free from their sensual tasks as Nora fell back to sit down in the desk chair again.

“Sorry,” Nora breathed, eyes still closed. “It’s just that I’ve been dreaming of fucking you all weekend. I’m kinda embarrassed how quickly I came.”

Before Esme could even begin to process that , Nora had yanked the chair close, pulled Esme’s bottom to the edge of the desk, and had both of her hands up Esme’s skirt. Making quick work of Esme’s own black cotton bikini panties, Nora had the skirt rucked up around Esme’s waist and before she could even gasp, Nora’s hands were on her ass and Nora’s eager mouth was on Esme’s hot, wet folds.

Esme’s head fell back, and she let her hand move again to Nora’s head, her fingers combing through the sleek blonde locks as Nora ate her out with a skill Esme hadn’t encountered in a long, long time. She took her time tasting Esme, letting her tongue trace through the wet heat of her vulva, spending just enough time sucking on Esme’s clit to make her breath quicken before pulling away and starting the sweetly agonizing journey all over again.

At last, Nora began to concentrate on licking and sucking on Esme’s clit, and all of Esme’s focus went there, pleasure washing through her as she pulled Nora’s head closer. Her free hand reached up to grab the edge of one of the shelves overhead, and she gripped it like her life depended on it. Nora pushed two fingers deeply inside of Esme, as broad strokes with the flat of Nora’s tongue continued to please her shaking body.

Esme’s hand clenched in Nora’s hair as she came so hard she couldn’t make a sound beyond one desperate, deep gasp. If the shelf hadn’t been so firmly bolted into the concrete wall, she might have pulled it down over the two of them with the intensity of her orgasm.

Shudders and aftershocks rocketed through her, and she was only vaguely aware of Nora pulling away and tugging her skirt back down. Of Nora resting her head in Esme’s lap as Esme made the slow, sparkling journey back to reality.

Carefully, gently, slowly, Esme untangled her hands from their death grips on Nora’s hair and on the shelf. Her breathing was uneven, her harsh exhalations the only sound in her tiny office. The smell of sex filled the room, warm and deliciously earthy, a scent Esme hadn’t been aware she missed until it was surrounding her.

She looked down at Nora, who lifted her head and looked back up at Esme with a smirky little smile.

Oh , Esme thought. Oh, I am in trouble now.