Well sick of moaning about her objectively beautiful life, Hennessy dug her keys out and entered the apartment. It was a perfectly fine little spot. A bit dark, definitely small, but easily big enough for the two of them. She snapped both locks into place and went into their bedroom to change. Images of Townsend’s gorgeous, rambling space kept invading, but she consciously blocked them. There was no sense in lusting after something she couldn’t have—at the moment. In another four or five years, when Kate was making good money, they’d be able to afford a place half as nice. Probably in Boston, a town she couldn’t wait to leave.
Growling with anger at herself, she changed into some of Kate’s scrubs and started to clean. Normally an early to bed, early to rise type, when she knew she was too keyed up to sleep she tried to occupy her hands. Gramma always said idle hands were the devil’s playground, and that wasn’t far from the truth.
She started with the kitchen, tidying the mess Kate had left that morning. Through years of dogged determination and gentle persuasion, Hennessy had finally convinced her to make herself a healthy breakfast. So she didn’t mind cleaning up strawberry hulls and kiwi skins from the sink. She smiled as she regarded the perfectly shaped strips of skin. Kate kept their knives nearly as sharp as her scalpels. You’d never find a jagged edge on a peel in their sink.
Now that she had Kate eating a decent breakfast, she was going to convince her to take some food along for her lunch or dinner. When Hennessy was working on her dissertation, she hadn’t had time to cook, but now she had time to burn. For the first time in her life, she could goof off if she chose to. Laughing at the mere thought, she considered what to cook.
After finding only some Andouille sausage in the refrigerator, she went with a classic. Red beans and rice. Kate wasn’t a huge fan of Southern cooking, but she seemed to like red beans. What sentient being wouldn’t?
Once she had everything simmering on the stove, she regarded the kitchen. The apartment desperately needed painting, but their landlord had agreed not to raise the rent if they agreed to forego some updating when they signed their latest lease.
Atop the chalky, dull paint, the kitchen bore a thin layer of grime. She’d worked so hard on polishing her dissertation for publication that she’d let a lot of chores slide. Kate wouldn’t have noticed if someone came in and stole all of their furniture, since all the poor lamb cared about was collapsing into bed. But that was no excuse. Hennessy was the homemaker, and she had to do her job.
In a half hour, everything from the cabinets was jammed onto the counter. Then she scrubbed the interiors, getting off six year’s worth of dirt and grease. Once everything was neatly returned to the proper space she worked on the cabinet fronts. It was amazing how much dirt accumulated around the knobs and drawer pulls, but there was nowhere for it to hide when she attacked it with a toothbrush.
The harder she worked, the less she thought. Her body got into a good rhythm, with dirt her only focus. The beans started to send off that long-familiar scent of pork and garlic and cajun spices as she started on the refrigerator, scrubbing it from the very top down to the underused freezer.
After the kitchen floor was gleaming as brightly as the old tile could manage, she went to her desk, shoved into the corner of their bedroom.
Her desktop computer played its little tune when she turned it on, then Hennessy sat down and started to review all of the research for her book. There were folders inside of folders inside of folders, many of them duplicates. Carefully, she considered what she might ever look at again, then started to throw all of the unnecessary files in the trash. Her concentration was so locked-in, she yelped when a pair of hands settled onto her shoulders.
Then Kate bent to kiss her cheek. “What’s up?” she asked. “The whole house smells like…garlic and beans. Did you get up super early and start cooking?”
Hennessy swiveled around. Kate had that tired yet jumpy look on her face. The same one she probably wore. “I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I’m trying to match your schedule.”
A hand settled on her head, then tenderly trailed down her face as Kate gazed into her eyes. “I know you’re kidding, but that would be awesome. Really awesome.”
Kate didn’t have many needs. All she wanted was a wife who’d help make her the best trauma surgeon in America. That really wasn’t asking too much—of someone who wasn’t trying to forge her own career.
Hennessy looked up at her, seeing fatigue make those usually perky blue eyes droop. “You look like you could use a nice, long shower.”
“I could definitely use one of those.” She took Hennessy’s hand and pulled her to her feet, then slid an arm around her waist and placed her lips up to Hennessy’s always sensitive ear. “What I really need is someone to wash my back. Interested?”
By the time the words were out of her mouth, Hennessy’s body began to react. No matter what, they’d always clicked in bed. Kate had promised the rabid desire of their initial lovemaking would only last a few weeks, but she’d been full of it. One suggestive kiss, a hungry look or even a text message could make her engine rev. And she’d never made an overt sex move that Kate had refused. Not once.
Hennessy pulled the tie that held Kate’s loose scrub pants up. Their eyes met as she grasped the hem of her top and whipped it over her head. Bra and panties were lying on the floor in seconds, abandoned next to her clogs. Then Kate’s hands glided over Hennessy’s body as she stripped her. They hugged for a long minute, their bare bodies getting used to each other again, their libidos coming to life. After going into the bathroom together, Kate got into the shower to adjust the water, while Hennessy brought their toothbrushes along. They stood under the warm water as they brushed their teeth, grinning at each other through foamy smiles.
Now things got interesting. As their mouths met, Hennessy took the soap and washed every bit of her lover’s body. By the time she reached her favorite part, her probing fingers were met with a slickness that made her smile. “You’re so easy,” she murmured into Kate’s smiling mouth.
Then she was pressed against the tile, Kate ravenously sucking on a hard nipple while a practiced hand slipped between her legs and slick fingers slid inside.
“So nice,” Hennessy murmured, pressing down to make the angle even better. “Every woman should make love to a doctor at least once in her life.”
Kate nuzzled against her neck, taking tiny bits of skin between her teeth and sucking them into her mouth. “You have selection bias, baby. They don’t teach this in med school.”
“Then every woman should get to make love with you just once.” Her hold tightened around Kate’s body, their slippery skin gliding together sensually. “But I’m not sharing.”
After a long shift, Kate needed to blow off some steam. But she wasn’t a yoga or meditation kind of girl. Sex definitely worked best, but much of the time Kate was getting in while Hennessy was sound asleep, or just getting up. But on the nights it worked—like tonight—Kate was calm, peaceful, entirely satisfied. A goofy smile curled up the edge of her mouth as she sat on the side of the tub and let Hennessy blow her hair dry. By the time she was finished, Kate was leaning against her leg, almost down for the count.
But Hennessy couldn’t let her drift off. Not tonight. They had to talk.
“Hey,” she said gently, tapping Kate on the shoulder.
“I’m up,” she managed, standing and stumbling towards the bedroom.
“I need to talk to you,” Hennessy said, following along. “Just for a minute.”
“Make it a fast one.” Kate dropped to the bed and started to arrange pillows to prop up her leg. Her back had started to ache on a pretty routine basis, and keeping her top leg up when she lay on her side helped.
“I ran into Townsend today.”
All pillow arranging stopped. Those piercing blue eyes blinked a few times. “Ran into her? Accidentally?”
“Uh-huh. I was over at Emerson for my interview—”
“Oh, shit!” She sat up and focused
every bit of her attention onto Hennessy. “How’d that go, honey? I was thinking about you while patching up a guy who got a sixteen-penny nail shot right into his back. Made a leaky hole in his kidney. Did you know they referred to nails by pennies?”
“How…?” Hennessy stopped herself from asking. There were so many crazy accidents, she’d lost count of things that made absolutely no sense. “No, I didn’t. Uhm, my interview went. That’s all I ever know. It’s over.”
“I hope it went great,” Kate said, with utter sincerity. She truly did want Hennessy to find work that resonated with her. In Boston. “Now tell me about Townsend. Did you get to talk or anything?”
Oh shit! She’d made it sound like she saw her passing by on a bus. “Uh-huh.” She swallowed, trying to think of how to put it. “We were both finished for the day and you weren’t going to be home…”
A blonde eyebrow rose, usually a sign of surprise or unhappiness. Hennessy knew which of the two this one was.
“I had the night free, baby. And I wanted to catch up.”
An unhappy frown settled on her face. “So you…what? Went out to dinner?”
Hennessy could have, probably should have nodded and left it right there. She had been out. They had eaten dinner. But that wasn’t how they did things. They told the truth, even when it hurt. “I went to her apartment for dinner.”
Kate sat up straight, eyes wide. “You went to her apartment? Just the two of you?”
“Yes.” She kept her gaze on Kate, trying not to look guilty. “It was easier that way. She lives right by Emerson.”
“Did you…” She stopped, composed her expression and continued. “Did you stop to think how I’d feel about that?”
“Of course I did. But you’ve got to understand how important she was to me, Kate. I couldn’t just wave and keep going.”
“You didn’t want to wave and keep going,” she said soberly. “And I understand exactly how important she was to you. We didn’t go to therapy all those months just for fun.”
She recoiled like she’d been punched in the stomach. Their first year had been tough—tougher than she could have imagined. Townsend was gone, but her hold remained. Only spilling her guts in therapy had let them get past it and build a life together. With every bit of her heart she wanted to blow past this. To act like it was a minor incident. But she’d gone this far, and she had to go all the way. “That’s true,” she said quietly, shifting her gaze to avoid seeing the hurt she knew would show in Kate’s eyes. “I wanted to catch up. And we did. But I’m home with you now, baby. Making love to my girl.” She caressed her cheek, letting her fingers convey her devotion.
“Okay.” Warily, she reached over and turned off the light. The dawn was about to break, and Hennessy got up to close the blackout shades.
They lay there in the dark, naked, their bodies lightly touching from shoulder to knee. “Are you going to see her again?”
“It’s hard to tell. She’s moving soon. I’ll tell you about it when you have time to talk.”
“Moving out of Boston?”
“Uh-huh. She’s got a job that I would have killed for.” She sighed, wondering why Mary Ann hadn’t called her to talk about an adult program. She was the one with the damned PhD!
Kate spoke again, her voice sounding very loud in the still room. “Do I have anything to worry about?”
Wincing, Hennessy tried to ignore the suspicion in her tone. “Only that I might try to steal the job out from under her. And that could get messy. I’d probably have to kill her.”
“I can get you a nice scalpel,” Kate said, chuckling, the tension broken with that little laugh.
Hennessy wrapped her arms around her and gently tickled her back with her fingertips. Kate nuzzled against her for a minute, then she shifted to lie on her back, with Hennessy cuddled close, the way they started off every night.
“Go to sleep now,” Hennessy soothed, feeling Kate’s body start to lose muscular tension as soon as they were in the familiar position.
Then she was out, breathing heavily in mere seconds. Hennessy wished there was a switch for her own brain, which was still buzzing like a hive.
Two days later, Hennessy stared at a letter, hand delivered just an hour earlier. She’d read it so many times she could have recited it by heart, but it still hadn’t fully settled in her brain. One more time, she scanned the words, typed on buff-colored vellum as sumptuous as a wedding invitation.
Dear Hennessy,
As you know, I’ve been hired to create and manage a writing program for adults at The Academy. My duties will involve, among other items, designing a curriculum, hiring instructors, advertising and generating publicity for the sessions, and setting admission standards.
I need an experienced educator to help me create the curriculum and structure the program so that it appeals to the widest possible audience. Toward that end, I’m offering you the position of Academic Director. The position will begin in June, with the first session commencing in January. In future years, the schedule will run from September to May, allowing for three months of vacation time.
In addition to a generous base salary, I can offer medical and dental insurance for you and your spouse. You would also have the use of a room in a cabin at no charge, as well as meals in the mess hall when it’s staffed. As a further incentive, you’ll receive a bonus for every returning student—since the students’ positive impressions of the program will be largely due to your efforts.
Even though we’re personal friends, our friendship is not the motivating factor in my offering you this job. I do so solely because I know we can work well together, and I believe you are the perfect person for the job, given not only your professional requirements, but your familiarity with The Academy and its purpose.
I understand that your future commitments may require you to relocate. Given that the first year of the program is the most vital, that would not be a terminal blow. I’m confident that you’re the person who can help me get the program off on the right foot. I hope you’ll consider my offer and respond at your earliest convenience.
Sincerely,
T
Townsend J. Bartley
Program Director
She sat at her desk, turned toward Kate, still sleeping peacefully. She loved her. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind about that. Over the years, her feelings for Kate had grown stronger. Deeper. And their attraction for each other was as vibrant as it had been when they’d first gotten together.
But she didn’t really have Kate. Surgery did. The woman loved her job in a way that made it clear it was much, much more than that. It was a calling. She had a gift; the ability to take a man death had claimed and drag him back to life. That calling would always prevail when it came down to choices. Hennessy was the mistress. Surgery was the wife.
Would she have fallen for her if she’d known she’d always be a step behind? She couldn’t hazard a guess. Attraction didn’t involve much conscious or logical thought. Just looking at her beautiful face in repose made Hennessy ache with desire. She longed to touch her, to taste her, to feel connected to her. But Kate would sleep until she had to get up for work.
Hennessy stood and slid in behind her, smiling when Kate unconsciously reacted to her presence. Just lying against her could make Hennessy squirm. Something deep inside reacted to Kate’s body like a drug. While running her hand over her gentle curves, she pressed her hips against her ass, and placed tender kisses across her shoulders.
Kate woke just enough to grasp Hennessy’s hand and place it on her breast, softly growling as it landed. Then she started to breathe heavily again, sound asleep.
They fit together. It was as simple as that. Despite their problems, they were a pair. A partnership. Hennessy kissed her fair hair, nuzzling her face into it, smelling her shampoo.
She thought of the job, the job she hadn’t known existed just days before. The job she desperately needed. She might not have been as wedded to her career as Kate, but it was c
lose. She needed to satisfy her mistress—teaching motivated people to write. Her wife, her Kate, would have to let her chase her dream. It was her turn, damn it.
As Hennessy increased the intensity of her kisses, Kate slowly began to wake. “Time?” she asked groggily.
“Three.”
“A.M?”
“No, baby,” Hennessy said, chuckling at her confusion. “P.M.”
“Mmm.” She smacked her lips together and shivered like a cat waking from a long nap. “Make love?”
“I’d love to.” She kissed the back of her neck, the thought of spending an hour exploring Kate very, very appealing. But she knew that was a diversionary tactic and it wasn’t fair. She had to act like an adult and get this out. “But we need to talk about something first.”
The sheets rustled softly as Kate turned to look at her. Puffy eyed, a faint red line from her pillow marking one cheek, she looked like she’d just pulled a thirty-hour shift. Hennessy wanted to kick herself for waking her. She truly needed every hour of sleep she could possibly manage. But this was important—for both of them.
“I got a job offer,” she began, her voice rough with tension.
Kate had been awake for less than a minute, but she’d trained herself to sleep fast and wake fast. Her eyes were wide open now, and focused intently on Hennessy. “Go on.”
“I told you about the job at The Academy.”
“Townsend’s job,” she said, her stare growing more intent.
“Uh-huh. Well, she’s going to be the program director.” She twitched, her nerves making her scalp itch. “And she wants me to be the academic director.”
In a flash, Kate was out of bed. Then her scrubs from the night before covered her. She grasped Hennessy’s chair, turned it and straddled it, leaning against the back as she continued to hold Hennessy in place with her gaze. “You’re turning down tenure track positions at Stanford and the University of Pennsylvania and an adjunct job at USC for a children’s camp?”
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