There was no question they wanted more—their bodies were quick to betray them. Nipples hardened, hands began to move in circular patterns, pelvises pressed closer together. Screw the going slow bit, Amanda thought. Some things were meant to happen. Some things needed to happen.
“Wait,” Claire said, breathless, and pulled away with an effort that felt like they were being wrenched apart. “Oh God. What are we doing?”
“Don’t.”
Claire took both of Amanda’s hands in hers. “I have to stop, Amanda. We have to stop. Please. We can’t let this happen.”
“No.” No, no, no, no, no! She was being petulant but she didn’t care. Claire was lovely. Claire was everything she’d ever wanted in a woman. Claire was land after a lifetime at sea. They would be so good together, she knew it. And so did Claire.
Claire looked pained but uncompromising. “This is too complicated right now, okay? We need to take a deep breath and slow down. Get some perspective.”
Amanda wanted to lash out, but instead she said in a steady voice, “Sometimes fear is the only thing that makes something complicated.”
Claire shook her head obstinately, rose, and in an instant her long strides took her to the door. Clearly, she’d made up her mind. She could not get past the impediments in their way, would not even seriously consider trying to overcome them. And all the anger and disappointment in the world from Amanda would not change Claire’s mind, she knew. She had to let her go, or at least let this moment go.
Amanda reluctantly followed, and at the door, Claire touched her face as though she could not help herself. Amanda let her tears fall on Claire’s motionless fingers. Let her see how much she means to me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dani
“Big day today, little sister!”
“Not as big as tomorrow,” Dani reminded her.
“Ah, yes, the countdown begins.” Heather peered at her watch and grinned. “My God, in about twenty-seven hours you’ll be a married woman!” Dani’s frown was so deep that Heather’s grin left her like an eraser across a chalk board. “Jeez kid, just because I had shitty luck at the altar doesn’t mean you have anything to worry about.”
Heather had a good heart, but she could be so self-absorbed at times. It wasn’t uncommon for her to turn conversations toward herself. “I’m not worried about having shitty luck at the altar,” Dani countered.
“Okay, what then? Cuz something’s eating at you. Will you tell me?”
Dani shook her head, already regretting this conversation, but there was really no escaping it. The others hadn’t arrived at the poolside cabana yet—they were probably still nursing hangovers from last night’s bachelor party. It was only noon. They’d show up eventually—or not. Shannon was busy meeting with the caterers for what seemed like the third time this week. Dani only hoped she wasn’t tacking more expensive last-minute things onto the menu.
“Seriously,” Heather continued. “You’ve seemed a little, I don’t know, preoccupied this week. And I don’t mean with wedding details. I know my little sister and I know something’s going on. Wanna talk about it?”
Dani folded like a house of cards, tired of holding it all together and afraid she might blow if she didn’t relieve some of the pressure. She was scared—scared beyond reason on several levels. “I guess you could say I’ve got a pretty big problem on my hands.”
Heather perched her sunglasses on her head and stared ominously at her. She knew Dani typically underplayed problems. “What is it, baby?”
All right, here goes. She took a deep breath to steel herself for the words she hadn’t spoken to anyone. Admitting to failure was bitter and foreign in her mouth. Even the words seemed like a different language. “I lost my job a few weeks ago.”
“What?” Shock, concern, sympathy all stormed across Heather’s face. “I thought you loved it there and they loved you. You’ve been there, what, four or five years? I thought things were going so well? Shit, Dani. I’m so sorry. What the hell happened?”
Dani had been one of three vice presidents at a marketing firm that specialized in websites and networks for the legal profession. The company had grown over a thousand percent since it began in 2001, but thanks to the downturn in the economy, growth had melted into losses and the company’s CEO decided he had one too many VPs. She’d never thought it would happen to her, but in the end she was just another surplus item the company could do without. She quickly explained the situation to Heather in a voice devoid of emotion. Maybe if she made it sound like she was talking about someone else, it wouldn’t hurt so much.
“Well, that sure sucks the big one,” Heather said, still sounding confounded. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ve been looking for another job, but it’s looking pretty hopeless at the moment. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of people out there in my situation. And when I do find something, it sure as hell won’t pay as much as I’ve been used to.”
“Yeah, I guess those days are gone. It seems it’s only the bank execs who are still raking in the dough, those bastards. You’ve been used to a pretty good salary for a long time. Are you going to be able to make the adjustment?”
Dani shrugged. “What choice do I have? I mean, my severance and our savings will get us through a few months, but still . . . it’s not looking so good.”
“What about Shannon going back to work?”
“Hell no. I don’t want her pregnant and having to work shifts at the hospital. I’ll scrub floors before I’ll let that happen.”
Heather smiled sympathetically. “You know, the fancy cars and the fancy digs are nice and all, but take it from me, a crapped out Ford Focus and a two-bedroom bungalow ain’t so bad. It can always be worse.”
“I know, I know. And money doesn’t buy happiness and all that crap.”
“I’m not trying to lecture you, hon. I’m here for you, okay?”
“I know.” Dani tried to wrestle down her agitation. Heather was doing her best to be supportive in the best way she knew how and it wasn’t fair to lose patience with her. “It’s just that, I guess you get to a point where you think your value or your worth as a human being is directly tied to how much money you make. Maybe that’s been my problem all this time. My identity is cloaked in dollar bills.”
“Well, that is so much bullshit. You are a wonderful woman, Dani, whether you’re broke or rich. Besides, in my experience, the more money a person makes, the bigger the asshole they are anyway.”
Dani let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, I can tell you from my experience that rich is better, even if it does make you an asshole.”
“Oh, screw rich. You’ve got everything you need. A wonderful woman you’re about to marry. Your health. A sister who loves you. Wonderful friends. Hopefully a kid soon.”
“I know, and I do appreciate everything I have, believe me.”
“Then listen to me.” Heather looked pointedly at her. “Don’t think I don’t know why all this money crap bothers you so much. It’s mom and dad, isn’t it?”
“Screw them. You said as much yourself this week.”
“Yes, I did say that, but the problem is that you don’t actually believe it.”
“What are you talking about? They’re assholes. I’m not disagreeing with that.”
“Verbally, yes, but your actions sometimes say otherwise. I know about the car you tried to buy them a couple of years ago.”
Dani rolled her eyes as she remembered offering to buy her parents a brand-new Chevy SUV to replace their ancient, crapped out Suburban that her father kept limping along year after year. It seemed like a no-brainer that her parents would accept her generous gift. Who’d turn down a brand-new car, after all? Her parents, that’s who. Said they would be too embarrassed to drive around town in something new. More like too embarrassed to admit their city slicker lesbian daughter had bought it for them. It hurt Dani’s feelings that they would take nothing from her. They wouldn’t even accept an all-expenses paid i
nvitation to the wedding. The rejection still hurt.
“I don’t want to talk about them,” Dani snapped.
“Well, we’re going to talk about them, because they seem to be at the root of so much shit in our lives.” Anger was turning Heather’s face hot pink. “It’s damn well time you take a page out of my book and quit trying to prove anything to them. Or worrying about what they think. They don’t deserve that kind of respect, trust me.”
“I don’t respect them, okay? It’s not about that. They’ve treated us both like crap all our lives, okay? You’d have to be blind not to see that. We never lived up to their ideals and expectations. I know all that.”
“You’re right, and we never will, no matter what. It’s too late for them. Always has been. There’s no do-overs with them.”
It was true. Her parents were in their late sixties now and as firmly entrenched as ever in their strict religious beliefs, their right-wing politics and their narrow views. They would never admit they’d been wrong about Dani and Heather, would never choose to see the good in them, would never forge relationships with them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Dani’s feelings of worthlessness most of her life had fueled her need to spend money. She’d spent a ton of money the last few years trying to prove herself to Shannon, to friends, colleagues, pretty much to everyone. Yes, the estrangement was largely her parents’ fault, yet Dani’s persistence—the fighter within—was why she’d never truly given up on them and why she refused to lay all her problems at their feet. Maybe a tiny sliver of religion had taken root in her all those years ago, the part about redemption and believing people could be forgiven their sins and could start over again. If God could still love her, why couldn’t her parents and her younger brother and sister?
Dani sighed. She didn’t have all the answers. “I’m not disagreeing with you. In fact, the way you feel about them and having written them off years ago was probably the best thing you could have done for yourself.”
“Oh, there is no probably about it. And it’s the best thing you could do too.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Trust me, I’m not going out of my way ever again to please them. The next move will have to be theirs.”
“Yeah, well, they’ll be dead in their graves before that ever happens.”
“Wow, you’re awfully bitter.”
“What, you’re just figuring that out now? They deserted me when I was young and got pregnant by a married man. They condemned me when I needed them most. I can’t forget that. Or forgive it.”
All this talk about family was wearing on Dani. It was only early afternoon and in a couple of hours she and Shannon had to host a cocktail reception for their two dozen or so wedding guests who were flying in today. Then after dinner was the wedding rehearsal with the wedding party. She was exhausted by the thought of it all. “Look, I’m sorry we got into all this. I know the odds are slim to none that the rest of our family is going to suddenly turn into decent human beings, and I promise I’m not going to hold my breath waiting for it to happen, okay?”
“Promise?”
Dani rolled her eyes. “Yes. And now I think I’m going to go have a little nap before the festivities start up again.”
“Okay. Hey, one more thing.” Heather clutched her arm before she could leave. “Shannon seems to be acting awfully unconcerned about your job loss. Is she okay with it?”
Dani’s stomach bottomed out at the thought of the talk she still needed to have with Shannon. She winced painfully. “She doesn’t know yet.”
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“Sorry, I’m all talked out for now, okay?” Dani mumbled. She didn’t want to deal with this subject right now. “Later.”
“What do you mean later? You’re just going to walk away without telling me why you haven’t told the woman you’re marrying tomorrow that you lost your job?”
“Yes,” Dani said simply and turned away. It was her and Shannon’s business, and besides, there was nothing Heather could say to her that she hadn’t already told herself.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jordan
She couldn’t believe she’d been lured by the old habit last night of going home with a stranger. Couldn’t believe it’d been so easy, so natural. Well, years of practice, that’s why! She’d followed the same pattern for so long, it had become second nature. There was nothing wrong with Savannah—she seemed like a nice woman—and there was nothing wrong with meeting new friends. But she knew with certainty she would never go home with a stranger again like that, and this time she meant it. Yes, it was a quick antidote to loneliness, but it was no substitute for companionship, for someone who understood you and connected with you. Dez or no Dez in her life, she was finished with that behavior.
As she wandered alone among The Canal Shops in The Venetian Hotel, it occurred to her how much had changed for her over the past week. She’d gone from screwing the daughter of her first lover to stumbling across Dez and falling in love, to swearing to herself she’d never again be promiscuous. It was almost like the beginning and the end of a novel with no middle part. Well, the middle part for her had been falling for Dez, but that part of her week now seemed like it had come and gone in a blink of an eye. She was a changed woman. Transformed. Krissy had started it and Dez had sealed it. The funny part was, it didn’t even feel so strange; it felt right. She had a feeling she’d be used to the new Jordan in no time.
She stopped to stare at the indoor canal, the ostentation of the marble floor and walls, the massive skylight mural, the Gucci, Cartier, Prada shops. It was blissful ignorance, all this extravagance. An entertaining distraction for the masses. She’d loved all this ostentation at one time; it was why she’d come to live part time in the city. But the truth was, no matter what her surroundings, she was lonely. Had been most of her life. Her parents, both successful lawyers, were almost never around when she was growing up. Oh, she and her brother were well provided for. There’d been nannies, private schools, every material need looked after. But there’d never been much love, only a learned sense of entitlement—an expectation that the world was her oyster. Her life had been one giant buffet of self gluttony, yet there was something supremely dissatisfying about all that selfish gorging. Stuffed full but empty inside.
She watched the couples in the gondolas. Some of them seemed almost embarrassed to have so many people staring at them, to have their romantic moment on public display. Never in a million years would she have done something as goofy as ride around an indoor moat in a little boat, a gondolier singing romantic Italian songs. But now it held a certain fascinating appeal, being wrapped so obliviously in a romantic crucible that you didn’t care what sort of spectacle you made. She could picture herself and Dez in one of the little boats, laughing at themselves, laughing at the strangers and at the fakeness of it all, taking none of it seriously because they had their love for each other to take seriously.
All these years Jordan had ignored the fact that she was lonely. She had done a good job convincing herself that she enjoyed her time alone, that she was fulfilled and living life exactly as she wanted. She’d simply extended the lessons she’d learned in childhood, and it was a good life, really. An expensive condo in Chicago, one in Las Vegas, a career in real estate that easily made her a cool million a year in commissions. She could travel whenever she wanted, buy whatever she wanted, could even eat as much as she wanted and never had to worry about her figure. Life had been pretty damned good to Jordan Scott.
Except now that she was beginning to peel back the gilt veneer, there wasn’t a lot about her life that truly made her happy. The condos were lovely but they were devoid of everything that made a house a home. Travel was exhausting. The money was nice, but she had everything she needed twice over. And the women—the women made her feel good for the short term. Sometimes for days, but more likely only for a few hours or even minutes. She’d had so many lovers. Hundreds. Hell, maybe even a thousand by now. So many that they all bl
urred together, like the lines dividing a well-traveled highway. There had been times at parties where women had come up to her, talked to her like they knew her intimately, started reminiscing about a date they’d had, and Jordan didn’t even remember them, let alone anything about the time she’d spent with them. It was embarrassing. Repulsive, actually.
Being with Dez was no comparison. Dez made her realize what happiness was. Real happiness. Happiness at just being with someone. Happiness with herself, and those were things money definitely could not buy.
All right, she said to herself and took a deep, calming breath. She needed to come up with another solid plan to convince Dez to give her another chance. The flowers hadn’t worked. Neither had the couple of notes she’d slipped under her door. She wouldn’t keep after Dez if the cold shoulder was the constant result. She had more self-respect than that. But maybe, with one last genuine effort, Dez would come around.
She walked into a shop of specialized collectors’ memorabilia from the entertainment and sports world. There was a blackjack tabletop autographed by the stars of the original Ocean’s Eleven film, as well as one autographed by the stars from the remake. There were autographed Beatles albums, same with Elvis and Sinatra. She remembered Dez saying something about being a huge Ella Fitzgerald fan, how inspired she’d been by Ella, who’d also been her grandmother’s favorite singer. Maybe there was something special here from Ella she could give to Dez.
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