by Harper Bliss
“Three years and a few weeks,” Sarah said.
“Wow.” Ava grinned at Liz and Sarah. “That must be—”
The sound of a piece of cutlery being tapped against a glass silenced them. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?” It was Michelle, the showrunner. “Unfortunately, it is now time for the speeches.” She pulled up her shoulders as if apologizing. “I know it’s dreadful, but it needs to be done.” The crowd laughed. Some even applauded. Charlie’s stomach contracted in an unpleasant way. “I’ll go first,” Michelle said.
While she regaled the people around her with some anecdotes of the shoot, Ava moved behind Charlie and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” she whispered in Charlie’s ear. “I love you.”
Ava’s words connected with the ball of nerves in Charlie’s stomach, and managed to undo some of it.
Michelle ended her speech with, “I’m going to keep it short, and I hope the people who will speak after me will do the same.”
Even Elisa chuckled at that one.
Michelle turned toward Charlie. “Next, I will give the floor to the person without whom none of us would be here. Charlie Cross.”
Ava’s hand slid off Charlie’s shoulder as she stepped forward. The venue for the party was a back room on the studio lot, with the lights dimmed and the tables shoved to the side. The only really glamorous attributes were the endless supply of champagne, the presence of Elisa and her husband. And, of course, Ava. There was no spotlight trained on Charlie, nor was there a stage she needed to step on. The casual nature reassured her somewhat. She waited for the mild applause to die down, and for Liz to stop whistling before starting to speak.
“I came up with this character a long time ago,” Charlie started. “And to now stand here before all of you, knowing that within months Aretha will be a person of flesh and blood, so expertly embodied by the wonderful Elisa Fox, being broadcast into millions of people’s living rooms,” she shook her head gently, “is a bit of a strange feeling, I must admit.” Charlie gave a nervous chuckle. “It has been a real honor and privilege to work with each and every one of you. You’ve taught me so much. When I first arrived here I didn’t know much about how any of this TV making business worked, and it’s been a dream come true. I’ve learned so much, made a few friends along the way—”
“And picked up Ava Castaneda,” someone shouted from the side. It was Diana, the second camera woman.
“Yes, and there’s that.” Charlie refused to feel mortified about that. She looked to her right, to where Ava was standing. Ava gave her a big, comforting smile. “All in all, it has been an unforgettable experience. You’ve all been amazing to work with and… Thank you for making this girl’s dream come true.”
People started clapping. Charlie gave a quick, courteous bow, and headed back into the crowd. She didn’t speak of how Underground had changed her in ways she would have never imagined. How, when she’d written the first pages of the first volume, not long after falling head over heels in love with Jo, in her tiny apartment in Greenwich Village, this outcome was the least likely one. But here she was, at a wrap party in a studio in Hollywood, about to listen to Elisa Fox’s speech.
“I’m going to reward you for that,” Ava whispered in her ear. Charlie hadn’t said anything extraordinary or especially invigorating. She’d basically said what any contestant on Knives Out says once they’re booted off. But Ava knew what it all really meant to her, and the two of them silently sharing that knowledge was more than enough for Charlie.
EPILOGUE
“Come on, I just put this on,” Charlie said, but didn’t make any moves to push Ava away.
“I don’t care, Charlie. I want you so much right now, I might explode if I don’t have you.” Ava unbuttoned the shirt Charlie had just put on. It was freshly ironed for the big occasion: the book launch party of her first post-Underground novel Release the Stars, for which they would now probably be late.
Ava went to work on the button of Charlie’s pants next. They were made of leather and clung so closely to Charlie’s skin, she was worried about how long it would take to peel them off and then slip back into them again. But, apparently, Ava didn’t need to see a lot of flesh. She just flipped open the button, undid the zipper, and regarded Charlie with lust filled eyes. She pushed Charlie’s shirt slightly off her shoulders and plunged her hand inside Charlie’s underpants.
When her finger dipped low enough to feel how wet Charlie was, Ava asked, “Was it the pants, Charlie? Does leather make you horny?”
“It’s you,” Charlie said between short bursts of breath. “Anything you do always drives me wild.”
“I am so, so proud of you.” Ava slipped her finger lower and, despite the limited wiggle room, managed to avoid grazing Charlie’s clit. She went straight for Charlie’s entrance. Her other hand rested on Charlie’s neck, her thumb on her clavicle. “Besides, I know what you’re like when you have to address an audience. Just taking off the pressure for you, baby.” She flashed Charlie a smile, and let her finger go a little deeper, not slipping all the way in, but deep enough to cut off Charlie’s breath for a split second.
Charlie pressed the flat of her hand to the wall for support. As Ava’s finger found its way farther inside her, she thought of the dedication she’d included in her book. It was Ava herself who had said, “I think this one is for Jo more than for anyone else.” By ‘anyone else’ she’d meant herself.
To Jo, the only one who could tell me what I needed to hear.
It was simple but clear. Charlie didn’t know if she would be here, standing against a wall in Ava’s house, where she’d as good as taken up residence, with one of Ava’s fingers inside of her, coaxing her to a quick orgasm, if Jo hadn’t set her straight that day.
Ava added another finger and, in the process, let her thumb drift along Charlie’s clit. The nails of her other hand dug into the flesh of Charlie’s neck in a wordless demand. It didn’t take much for Charlie to meet it.
Ava’s breath rushed over her face. Her eyes narrowed with every stroke she delivered. Ava deserved a dedication in Release the Stars just as much as Jo did. Starting to write again the way she had always done, had freed her. She’d been able to reconnect with all the feelings she’d stowed away, and poured them out through her fingers, onto her computer screen—and now onto the pages of the book. Charlie wasn’t sure she could have done that for anyone other than Ava.
Sometimes, she’d come down from the room Ava had set up as an office for her—a temporary room at first that soon became Charlie’s primary place to write—and sit with her laptop at the outside table where she and Ava had shared their first dinner. It had been an experiment at first. Charlie had been convinced she wouldn’t be able to write a decent sentence with Ava so near, but Ava had insisted, claiming it would be excellent foreplay, so Charlie had, of course, given in. To her surprise, Ava’s presence—as long as it was non-intrusive—didn’t bother her. Instead, it made her tap the keys even faster, because she knew what that furious pace did to Ava.
“This is news to me, too,” Ava had said, after she’d gotten up from the sun lounger she’d been relaxing on. “But the sound of you typing has made me incredibly wet.”
“Come for me, Charlie.” Ava was never the best at keeping her requests silent. She really did love the sound of her own voice. Charlie could hardly hold that against her. The pressure of her thumb grew more insistent, and that familiar quick rush of blood through her veins hit Charlie, that tingling sensation underneath her skin, that burst of joy emanating from where Ava’s fingers worked inside her.
Charlie took a deep breath and sagged against the wall, while Ava let her hand slip from her pants. The skin of her wrist was red because of the friction with the leather, and Charlie brought it to her mouth and kissed it, smelling herself on Ava’s fingers.
“You have no impulse control,” Charlie said, in between pecks.
“Why on earth would I control myself whe
n it comes to you?” Ava dug her knee between Charlie’s legs.
Charlie didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, she shook her head and chuckled. Then her eye caught the clock on the wall. “Shit. You’d better really let me get dressed now.”
“Leave the top button of your blouse open,” Ava said. “So I can dream a little when I look at you on stage.”
* * *
The turn-out for Charlie’s book launch was much bigger than anything she’d experienced before. Underground had started airing three weeks ago to great critical acclaim. Talks were already under way for season two, with a positive decision from the network deemed imminent.
“My favorite person on the planet,” Estelle said. She was Charlie’s LA agent, the one dealing with all things TV rights.
“You’re only saying that because I made it rain for you,” Charlie quipped. She hugged the tiny woman, and continued to work the room, Ava safely by her side. Charlie reveled in this moment. All her LA friends were here, and even a few select ones from New York had made the trip. Nick and Jason, in impeccable suits as usual, stood beaming in Elisa Fox’s spotlight. Charlie had never exchanged that many words with the A-lister, and she doubted the actress had read anything else by her than Underground, but the network had considered it a good promotional idea to have Elisa make an appearance at Charlie’s book launch. Charlie was glad it diverted some of the attention away from her.
For her, this was a celebration. A gathering with her nearest and dearest to acknowledge the birth of her new book and all the things it stood for. “Charlie Cross 2.0” Nick had called her a few weeks ago, at the premiere party for Underground, where he had also remained no more than three feet away from Elisa Fox at all times. “Not that different, just with a few necessary bug fixes,” had been his exact words. Charlie had only been slightly offended.
“Congratulations, Charlie,” Nick said, after finally extricating himself from underneath Elisa Fox’s halo. “I can’t wait to not read it.” Nick only read magazines and TV scripts. Perhaps that was why he had become one of Charlie’s closest friends. What she did professionally didn’t matter to him. At the Underground premiere party he had also been caught saying, “So glad to finally be able to read one of your books, Charlie.” Although he’d been the first to organize a viewing party every Sunday evening when a new episode was on.
Charlie accepted his embrace, and he pulled her a little closer than he normally would.
Behind them, Jo and Christian stood chatting with Liz and Sarah.
“The way you carried on, I believed your ex was a monster, and her boyfriend the embodiment of Satan on earth, but they’re actually lovely people,” Liz had said after Charlie had introduced them to each other. “You and your flair for the dramatic.” What Charlie would miss most about the writers’ room, were her chats with Liz during breaks and going for after-work drinks.
“Charlie.” Christian extended his hand as usual. Charlie swatted it away and opened her arms for a hug.
“How very LA of you,” he said to her when his mouth was closest to her ear.
“I didn’t really mean it, you know,” Jo said after they’d greeted each other. “You didn’t really need to dedicate a book to me.”
“I did.” Charlie looked at Jo, at this woman who had changed her life—twice. Of course she didn’t have to dedicate Release the Stars to her, but she had wanted to.
The next cluster of people consisted of Charlie’s softball team members.
“Way to get off your high and mighty pedestal,” Tiff joked. Now that most of Charlie’s days were made up of writing and more writing, she’d had plenty of time to make every single game and training session of the season. Ava had even come along a few times to cheer her on from the sidelines and drink a few beers with the girls, but it hadn’t influenced Charlie’s batting average in a positive way at all.
Josie stood to the side of the circle, to Charlie’s right. Charlie found her gaze and smiled. Josie smiled back and lifted her eyebrows, as if to repeat what she always said to Charlie when they saw each other, which was often now that Charlie was a team regular. “Don’t forget. You owe me one most spectacular date.”
Charlie bowed her head in acquiescence. Josie winked at her.
Behind Josie, in the furthest corner of the room, a tall grey figure skulked. Charlie turned to Ava. “Is that Eric?”
Ava craned her neck, which wasn’t really necessary seeing as she towered over most people present. “Do they let any B-lister on the guest list here or what?” she said.
Eric and Ava’s friendly relationship had cooled down considerably since Dallas. In the hiatus between seasons, Ava hadn’t socialized with him at all—much to Charlie’s relief.
Charlie glanced at Eric again. He had a copy of her book in his hands. When he noticed Charlie looking at him, he held up the book and made a signature gesture with his finger. The nerve of this guy. But Charlie wasn’t in the mood to give him a piece of her mind. Eric could go fuck himself royally. He brought his hands together now, in a pleading gesture, and took a bow.
“You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” Ava said. She’d started pre-production for the next season of Knives Out already, and had to deal with Eric in a professional setting. “I’ll go. You should enjoy your evening.”
Charlie appreciated Ava’s protective instinct, but she’d sign Eric’s book if that was what he wanted. She knew just what to write.
“It’s okay.” Charlie pressed her way through the crowd swiftly, until she stood face-to-face with the man who had found her biggest weakness and shamelessly exploited it in Dallas.
“Charlie.” He paused. “I won’t stand here in front of you and pretend an apology can ever be enough. I know it can’t. Nevertheless, I would like to tell you how sorry I am for the things I said. Obviously, none of it was true. I was jealous and being an asshole. I’m old enough to know when I’m wrong and out of line.” He shuffled his weight around a bit. “Oh, and by the way, Underground is my new favorite show. Best thing on TV in ages.” He glanced at Ava. “Apart from our show, of course.” The smile he gave them appeared genuine enough.
“I’ll sign your book,” Charlie said and held out her hand.
Eric handed it to her. Charlie took it and a pen from her blazer’s front pocket, and signed it. Charlie Cross, Ava Castaneda’s lesbian lover.
She gave the book back to Eric. “Enjoy.”
Eric read her inscription and grinned. “Good one. Thanks.”
The sound of a finger tapping on a microphone relieved Charlie of having to engage in conversation with Eric much longer.
“Looks like things are about to kick off,” Eric said. “Thanks again, Charlie. I’ll leave you to it.” Just like that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Charlie didn’t have time to discuss this encounter with Ava, because Andrew, her publisher, had taken the stage. A word of warning would have been nice, she thought, as she made her way to him.
“Charlie? Charlotte Cross? Where are you?” Andrew said, casting his gaze over the crowd. “Ah, magnificent.” He’d located Charlie, who was making her way to the podium. “Welcome, distinguished guests and Charlie Cross readers. Charlie will say a few words now, and perhaps do us the honor of reading a few pages from her new masterpiece, after which there will be a signing session. Drinks will be available aplenty throughout. Enjoy.”
“Go kick some ass, baby,” Ava said. Charlie turned around and kissed Ava on the mouth before taking the stage.
“Hello all,” she said. A spotlight blinded her—just like it had done the night of the auction. “Let me tell you a few things about how this book came about.” Charlie cleared her throat and started at the beginning.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Endless gratitude to you, my reader, without whom I wouldn’t be living my dream of waking up every day to write more stories. To my wife, whose crazy idea I once was. To my editor Jove Belle whose knowledge, skill and to
ugh love made this book a much better read. To my Launch Team for the boundless enthusiasm and loyalty.
Thank you.
GET TWO FREE BOOKS!
Building a relationship with my readers is the very best thing about writing. I occasionally send newsletters with details on new releases, special offers and giveaways.
And if you sign up to my mailing list I’ll send you all this free stuff:
1. A free copy of Hired Help, my very first (and therefore very special to me) lesbian erotic romance story.
2. A free copy of my first ‘longer’ work, my highly romantic novella (35.000 words) Summer’s End set on an exotic beach in Thailand.
3. You’ll have to wait and see, but I may have a nice surprise up my sleeve… ;-)
You can get Hired Help (a spicy F/F novelette), Summer’s End (a deeply romantic lesfic novella) and the ‘surprise’ (it will be hot and romantic, I promise!) for free by signing up at harperbliss.com/freebook/
Get a free copy of Hired Help and Summer’s End when you subscribe to Harper’s mailing list.
Click here to get started: www.harperbliss.com/freebook/
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Harper Bliss is the author of the novels Once in a Lifetime and At the Water’s Edge, the High Rise series, the French Kissing serial and several other lesbian erotica and romance titles. She is the co-founder of Ladylit Publishing, an independent press focusing on lesbian fiction. Harper lives on an outlying island in Hong Kong with her wife and, regrettably, zero pets.