Chapter 52

After invitingNatalia to the Coconut Grove Passion Fruit Arts Festival after breakfast, Sam was mildly surprised she’d taken her up on it. She’d expected her to say she didn’t have any more time for her that weekend, but instead she’d pulled on her sunglasses and walked out into the hazy, humid morning.

The festival was only a few blocks from her house. Pedestrians and cars packed the streets and crawled toward the bay.

Strolling next to her, Natalia’s energy was unreadable. She’d been uncharacteristically quiet since she’d come downstairs in Sam’s crumpled shirt from the night before. It had been a sight so hot, Sam had happily left the bagels to burn in the oven, but Natalia had been distracted. Distant.

From their first stilted kiss that morning, a pit had been growing in Sam’s gut. A sticky, acidic void spinning wider with every step. But if Sam knew anything about Natalia, it was that she would leave if she wanted to. She didn’t use pretense or politeness. She would have grabbed her shit and walked out.

But she hadn’t. She hadn’t even hesitated when Sam asked if she wanted to check out the festival. Pushing the caustic doubt aside, Sam led them toward the huge, white entrance tent and purchased their tickets after standing in a painfully long line.

By the time they got to the outdoor festival grounds, the air was thick with humidity. Palm trees lining the bay were beautiful, but offered no reprieve from the mid-morning sun.

“I should have brought a parasol,” Sam joked, wiping the sweat from her brow with a napkin.

Natalia had stopped at one of the white tents displaying vibrant artwork, her eyes hidden behind dark lenses. “How very Victorian of you,” she said without any bite, and stepped around the photorealistic manatee family rendered in chalk on the street.

Moving through the dense crowd, the roar of live music getting louder as they reached the heart of the festivities, Sam tried to muscle Natalia out of her strange mood.

“This is a real make-it-or-break-it moment,” Sam said when they reached the food quarter where vendors of all kinds inhabited tightly packed tents — the mouth-watering aroma of grilled foods wafting in the all-too-light breeze. “King of Pastries or Pastry King?”

The always shrewd Natalia looked distracted when she turned her face to meet her. In that moment, Sam would have given anything to hear what she was thinking — to know where she’d gone.

After a beat, Natalia seemed to have recalled Sam’s question, and she tipped her head to one side. “There’s only one choice, isn’t there, Professor?”

Even the use of her playful moniker did nothing to settle the roiling pit in Sam’s stomach. It was even worse that Natalia was trying to hide whatever she was feeling. At least she’d always been able to count on Natalia being direct.

Like something stuck in her back molars, Sam picked at the feeling expanding in her chest. She couldn’t ignore it, not for another moment.

Iced café con leche in hand, they drifted toward the open bay, dark water lapping against the stone retaining wall. Off shore, sailboats were bobbing dots reflecting the punishing sun.

“Hey, did I do something wrong?” Sam asked while they followed the walking path along the water. “If we’re moving too fast?—”

“It’s not that,” Natalia replied without an ounce of reassurance in her tone. “Something came up with work. It has me preoccupied.”

Drinking the rest of her latte before tossing the cup in a trashcan, Sam stopped walking and turned to Natalia. “This only works if you can talk to me,” she said in a tone too close to pleading. “If we communicate.”

“Everything is fine, Professor. Nothing to get all dramatic about,” she said it like she almost believed it.

Sam didn’t believe her for a second. She didn’t need Natalia’s human lie detector powers to know something was bothering her. To know something was wrong.

As if trying to convince Sam that she was behaving perfectly normally, Natalia pointed to the enormous observation wheel in the distance. “Would you like a bird’s-eye view of the city?”

The monstrosity was an eyesore. A bunch of private, enclosed gondolas carrying tourists to the very top of the wheel. She’d never visited it on principle. They didn’t need to be the Navy Pier or the London Eye. Miami had its own rhythm, and it was at its best when it leaned into what made it special — the Caribbean vibration of the nearby islands mixing with their own tropical flair.

“Have you ever had sex in public?” Natalia asked so unexpectedly, it interfered with Sam’s ability to swallow, making her choke.

A tiny, wry grin on the very edge of Natalia’s lips signaled that she’d tossed out the question with the intention of flustering her. It had worked, but only for a moment.

“I have not,” Sam admitted, trying to shake the discomfort in her body and enjoy the moment. “Have you?”

Natalia offered a nonchalant shrug. “I will say that I was a little intrigued after that horrible movie with Reese Witherspoon.”

“Not the one with Mark Wahlberg.” Sam cringed.

“I may have harbored a certain fantasy after that rollercoaster scene,” Natalia admitted casually.

“How very unexpected for a woman with your discerning taste.” Sam laughed. “Did you ever fulfill that fantasy?”

“What kind of lady would I be if I told you?” Natalia teased, her playfulness only making Sam more sure that she was hiding something.

“That’s alright. I may have wanted to have sex in a club bathroom after some sweaty dancing when I saw Basic Instinct.”

“Do you know the role of Sharon Stone’s girlfriend would have gone to Brooke Shields, but she turned it down?”

Sam clutched her chest. “Not those two. I almost didn’t survive her with the French woman.”

“Leilani Sarelle,” Natalia provided the actress’s name. “They cut their love scenes because of the censors.”

“From that movie?” Sam shook her head. “It was basically porn with a plot.”

“Not to mention completely exploitive,” Natalia agreed. “But straight sex is passionate,” she said in an openly mocking tone. “What purpose could two women together have other than obscenity?” She shook her head.

“I suppose we couldn’t expect much more from a movie that gave us murderous, psychopathic queers threatening the lives and limbs of straight white dudes,” Sam conceded. “With the Lilith script, I’m pushing for nuance, you know? I know they’re vampires, but there are no tropes or stereotypes — just complex and fully realized women in layered relationships.”

Natalia stiffened.

Sam was well aware that she couldn’t talk about the details of the production until each stage was completed, but she hadn’t said anything specific. Hadn’t violated the terms of their agreement.

Sam faltered. The tense energy from earlier had snapped back over them like a rubber band. Natalia stared straight ahead as they walked, responding to Sam’s comments with noncommittal murmurs. The easy back-and-forth from earlier was gone.

Dread crept through Sam’s veins. She could feel Natalia pulling away, retreating behind an invisible barrier. After the closeness of last night, she hadn’t expected this distance.

While they walked through the tents showcasing fascinating and sometimes strange art, Sam gently brushed her fingers over Natalia’s. Even if she didn’t know what was wrong, she could try to hold on to this fragile connection. Remind Natalia she was there whenever she was ready to talk.