Chapter 15

Standing outside the restaurant,the night cold and rainy, Sam gripped the handle of her umbrella and waited for the green Jaguar to roll up to the valet stand.

As soon as she saw Natalia, she ignited. With her hair slicked back and wearing a form-fitting, long-sleeved, black dress that was so low-cut it would make a lesser being fall to their knees in adoration, Natalia’s dark eyes met Sam’s through the windshield.

Have mercy, Sam thought before giving the valet attendant a look that said I-got-this-kid-step-aside. Striding around to the driver’s side of Natalia’s car, Sam held out the umbrella to keep her from the unpleasant drizzle.

As soon as the car door opened, Sam’s attention shot to Natalia’s legs. Long and smooth and made for locking Sam in place. Lips painted black as sin didn’t part in a smile, but Natalia’s dark chestnut eyes were bright enough to blind.

She was fucking stunning. A true goddess who materialized on Earth just to punish the unworthy. Sam lost touch with her own body. Forgot what she was meant to be doing and thanked Blanca for baiting her into asking Natalia out on a date. Just being near her set off a chemical reaction in her body. Attraction and curiosity and an aching want that compromised her reason and made her hope that Natalia wasn’t as unavailable as she surmised.

“This isn’t a date,” were the first words out of Natalia’s mouth before she allowed Sam to hold the umbrella for her.

The hopeful haze evaporated and was replaced by a chuckle rumbling in Sam’s chest. Using her free hand, Sam snaked it around Natalia’s waist and held her close while kissing her cheek.

Instead of hurrying out of the embrace to get into the warm, dry restaurant, Natalia lingered. Sam breathed her in and waited for Natalia to be the one to break the moment. Damn it, Blanca.

“Oh, this is definitely a date,” Sam said when Natalia slid out of her embrace.

Natalia shot her a look, sober and unwavering. She made a sound with her throat, but didn’t object before turning on her sexy-as-fuck heels and starting for the restaurant.

Inside, they followed the hostess to a corner table in the Parisian, garden-themed, fine dining restaurant. Dark, candle-lit, and tucked away from the other diners, Sam couldn’t have asked for a better date spot.

A staff member arrived just as Sam and Natalia got settled at their table. Before Sam could even pick up the menu, Natalia rattled off her order to the young man whose job it was to bring them water.

“I’ll have the Bronzino — pan-seared with a lot of lemon. If you have that zucchini and squash thing, I’ll take that, but no oil or butter. Just steamed. Otherwise, the tomato and orzo salad without the cheese.” She handed back the unopened menu. “And a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.” Her gaze landed on Sam with surgical precision. “Do you want to share a bottle?”

Sam looked away from Natalia and up to the confused kid holding a napkin-wrapped bottle of mineral water. “She likes to practice her order before the server comes. Thanks for being a great audience.”

Openly grateful that he didn’t have to figure out what to do next, the kid all but ran in place like a cartoon before disappearing.

“You know he wasn’t the server, right?”

“What?” Natalia’s eyebrows, so perfect Sam was sure she had them shaped every morning, twitched. “He works here, he brought us food and drinks?—”

“Bread and water,” Sam interrupted with a laugh. “Why did you?—”

“Expect competence when someone is rendering a service? What a leap?—”

“You like to intimidate people,” Sam decided while resting her back against her chair.

Natalia stiffened. “How is it intimidating to order food at a restaurant?”

Sam watched her in silence, waiting for her to appreciate that wasn’t what she meant. Natalia didn’t so much as shift uncomfortably under her gaze. She merely held Sam’s eye contact with the confidence of a lion staring down a mouse.

After a beat, Sam chuckled. “What’s your deal, Natalia?”

Silence broken and point scored, Natalia reached for her glass. “My deal?”

“Yeah, your deal.” Sam leaned forward. “Dropping all of this, who are you? What’s behind the Natalia facade?”

“Wow, Professor. Do you usually insult all your dates?”

Sam didn’t get distracted by Natalia’s admission that they were on a date. She’d bet the boat she bought during her mid-life crisis that Natalia had only made the concession to distract her. It wouldn’t work.

“You’re not insulted,” Sam said with unassailable confidence.

Natalia moistened her lips, an attempt to hide a smile, Sam was sure.

Sam let the silence grow, pretending it didn’t unnerve her. She waited until they’d ordered and drank a third of their wine before she pressed Natalia again. “Be real. Just for a second.”

Looking at her over the rim of her glass, Natalia was the embodiment of sultry intrigue. But Sam didn’t call her out on using her allure to steal Sam’s focus.

“Real like what, Dr. Reyes?” Her words were a dagger wrapped in silk and traveled over Sam’s skin like a kiss on her pulse point.

“Why did you become a talent agent? The truth this time.”

Natalia studied Sam, looking at her like she could read every thought Sam had ever had. Like she was peering into her past, present, and future for the slightest hint of bad intentions.

“Who was the first not-straight person you saw in media? Any kind of media.”

Sam leaned back, picking through her memories while the server brought their food. “I’m not sure. L.A. Law, maybe?”

“Mmm.” Natalia nodded like she’d been expecting the answer. “1991.” She rubbed her thumb along the stem of her glass. Sam’s clue that she was keeping her voice even despite strong feelings. “The groundbreaking show that aired the first same-sex kiss on prime-time TV.”

Like she was being taken back to school, Sam focused on Natalia’s response. She was a natural storyteller, drawing her in with nothing but tone and pauses.

“The kiss between CJ and Abby was a huge deal for the queer community. A beacon of representation.” Cynicism snaked into her tone. “I mean, we had so little then. Who wouldn’t have celebrated the event as a watershed?”

Sam knitted her eyebrows together. She’d never known anyone who said so much between the lines, like Natalia did. It was like she’d made the indirect in-between her home, forcing people to pay attention or miss it. Miss her. The real her.

“And the network execs were paying attention.” She sipped her wine when Sam was sure she wanted to bare her teeth. “The show kicked off the trend of showcasing gay characters. Lesbians in particular, right?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Sam tried to recall anything else about the show. It was so long ago.

“Show after show went on to have such similar scenes.” She put her glass down when Sam knew she wanted to slam it. “A kiss between two attractive, femme-presenting women makes everyone happy, doesn’t it?”

A world of judgment was packed into Natalia’s framing of the event. It was obviously something she’d thought about for years.

“Incredibly, after this out of nowhere kiss that almost always happened during sweeps, one woman goes back to men and the other one walks off into a parking lot, never to be seen again. A stunning mixed bag of visibility and cliché. What choice did we have but to take it? It was better than the nothing we had before, right? Because what are we if not sexy and arousing? The same people who vote against our basic human rights are the first ones to tune in to get turned on.”

Sam nodded. “We take our publicity stunts with a thank you, sir, may I have another.”

Natalia tipped her head forward in agreement. “Visibility matters. Seeing people like you in media, being represented as complex humans instead of stereotypes... it has an impact. Especially when you’re young, scared, still figuring yourself out. When the only messages you’re getting are that you’re broken and wrong. When the only people you have in your corner are characters in movies and television. If my work makes a single gay or trans kid out there feel less alone, less like a defective piece in the puzzle, then every door I’ve busted down and ceiling I’ve shattered… every nasty thing ever said about me… worth it.” Her dark eyes grew distant, gaze turned inward. In the space of a blink, she told Samantha so much about her coming out experience. How she saw herself then and why her work was so important. “Is that real enough for you, Professor?”

Sam sat in stunned silence, forming an ever-deeper appreciation for the lifeline fictional representation could provide. Reaching across the table, she laid her hand over Natalia’s.

Natalia tensed briefly at the contact before relaxing, allowing the gentle touch for a fraction of a second and then pulling away. Her eyes fixed on Sam and warning her that there was a wrong step.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly. “And you are absolutely changing lives. Roxxxy alone is a hell of a legacy. I lost my shit when Jill Sobule sang about kissing a girl. I couldn’t even fathom that kind of representation when?—“

“Flattery will not?—”

“I’m not flattering you.” Sam wouldn’t let her squirm away. “I’m telling you the truth. And I see my work the same way. If I can leave this planet just a little better for the next queer generation, it’ll mean everything to me.”

Natalia’s expression softened, lips parting and body leaning forward. Sam held her breath, and then a presence at their table snagged her attention.

“More water?” The kid with the bottle of mineral water showed up again, shattering the moment and sending Natalia into an emotional retreat.

“Love some,” Sam said with a forced smile, wishing she could pull Natalia back in.