Remember Tomorrow

by Gabrielle Goldsby

  bold strokes books

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  What Reviewers Say About Gabrielle Goldsby’s Fiction

  “Such a Pretty Face [is] a delightful read with solid storytelling and engaging characters. The reader is immediately drawn into one woman’s journey of self-discovery...Mia’s story...is written with deep emotion and Goldsby brings the reader into her painful transformation...deftly.” – Lambda Book Report In Such a Pretty Face “...Goldsby, skillfully mixing sharp humor and incisive insight, sorts out...emotional issues with solid plotting—

  and plenty of hot sex on the side.” – Q Syndicate

  “Child molestation, blazing gunplay, menacing double-crosses, ruthless cover-ups, a suspect suicide, sleazy cop corruption, and trafÞ cking in young children—this is one gritty police procedural.

  Detective Foster Everett is battling alcohol and relationship demons, not getting along with her female superior, and uneasy being a dyke in a macho ofÞ ce. She and her supportive male partner become enmeshed in a stomach-churning case involving the Þ lming and distribution of kiddie porn, a situation that reaches into the highest ranks of the police department—and runs right into the fabled “wall of silence” that shields law enforcement misdeeds. Goldsby’s zip-quick novel is packed with a multidimensional cast of complex characters, most prominently lesbian bar bouncer Riley Meideros, an aloof woman with unexpected emotional depth for whom Foster inevitably falls. The romance element sizzles with its own tension, but the crackling appeal of this gripping mystery lies in how ably Goldsby depicts unsettling sex crimes and immoral police conduct.”

  – Q Syndicate

  “If you like cop stories, this one should be at the top of your 2008

  reading list. It’s just terriÞ c.” – Lesbian News

  “Wall of Silence is a cracking good read.” – L-Word.com

  “The novel is perfectly plotted and has a very real voice and consistently accurate tone, which is not always the case with lesbian mysteries.” – Midwest Book Review By the Author

  Such a Pretty Face

  Wall of Silence, Second Edition

  Remember Tomorrow

  Visit us at www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  REMEMBER

  TOMORROW

  by

  Gabrielle Goldsby

  2008

  REMEMBER TOMORROW

  © 2008 BY GABRIELLE GOLDSBY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  ISBN 10: 1-60282-026-0

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-026-5

  THIS TRADE PAPERBACK ORIGINAL IS PUBLISHED BY

  BOLD STROKES BOOKS, INC.

  NEW YORK, USA

  FIRST EDITION: AUGUST 2008

  THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES, AND

  INCIDENTS ARE THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR

  ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, EVENTS, OR LOCALES

  IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

  THIS BOOK, OR PARTS THEREOF, MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED IN ANY

  FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION.

  CREDITS

  EDITORS: CINDY CRESAP AND STACIA SEAMAN

  PRODUCTION DESIGN: STACIA SEAMAN

  COVER DESIGN BY SHERI (GRAPHICARTIST2020@HOTMAIL.COM) Acknowledgments

  My thanks and undying gratitude to the following: Mecheal W—for being my rock when all else fails.

  Linda aka Proofreader—for your boundless knowledge of the English language.

  Nikki G—for your endless enthusiasm.

  Cindy Cresap—for your professionalism and patience.

  My fellow BSB authors—for setting the bar and continuing to raise it.

  Len Barot—for your continued trust and support.

  My readers—for giving me so much of your time.

  My family—for being my family of birth and my family of choice.

  Dedication

  To the Canady, Goldsby, and Sumler families—for making me who I am.

  REMEMBER TOMORROW

  CHAPTER ONE

  You need to do something about my beard.” Cees Bannigan stalked into the ofÞ ce of her executive producer Miranda Hamilton and shut the door.

  Miranda looked up, peered around her dual monitors, and squinted at Cees’s chin. “Sorry, what’s this about a beard? I’m sure that little gal down in makeup can pluck those right out,”

  Miranda said in what Cees was sure was supposed to be an understanding tone.

  “Her name is Edith, and I don’t need any plucking,” Cees said even as her hand went to her chin for afÞ rmation. “I’m talking about that asinine actor you hired to play my boyfriend.”

  Cees slumped into an ofÞ ce chair across from Miranda.

  “Vance?” Since it wasn’t really a question, Cees didn’t answer. Adding Vance Flowers to the show had been Miranda’s idea. When the ratings jumped subsequent to his arrival, she had made huge brownie points with The Suits in New York. The problem was, as Cees often pointed out in private, Vance was a klutz and an idiot. An idiot who had to be supervised at all times.

  Lucky for them, Portland, Oregon, was not the hotbed of the television production industry that New York was. Subsequently, they had their pick of college students willing to be the guy’s servant for class credits and a few free meals.

  • 9 •

  GABRIELLE GOLDSBY

  “I hired him to be your co-host, not your boyfriend,” Miranda said.

  “Then shouldn’t he know how to Þ x things, this being a DIY

  show and all? By the way, my boyfriend would sure as hell know how to pronounce my name. If he calls me Cease one more time I’m going to pop him one.”

  “Come on, Cees, people must do that to you all the time. If you didn’t already have a fan base, New York would have asked you to change the spelling to Case.”

  “And I would have asked them when hell was freezing over.”

  Miranda nodded her touché. “What’s he done now?”

  “He keeps asking me out,” Cees growled, and the smile threatening the corners of Miranda’s mouth disappeared.

  “You mean he doesn’t know you’re gay? I’d have thought someone here would have mentioned something by now.”

  “The people that know have been with me for years. Half of them worked for my dad before I got the show. I doubt they would tell him I’m gay, but I will if no one else does.”

  Miranda leaned back. “Is that a good idea, Cees? Have we known him long enough to know if we can trust him?”

  “I met him two months after I met you.” The alert look in Miranda’s eye told Cees that she wasn’t the only one who remembered how angry she had become when Miranda had informed her that a new co-host had been chosen without her input.

  “Besides, I’m not exactly in the closet. I just don’t advertise.”

  Miranda shook her head vigorously. “I , of all people, would never suggest that you hide who you are.”

  “Everyone knows you’re gay, Cees. You’ve always been straightforward about that. We aren’t asking you to keep your relationships secret. We both know what would happen if it became common knowledge. There would be constant speculation about who you were sleeping with and—”

  “I’m not in a relationship, and it’s my business who I sleep with.”

  • 10 •

  REMEMBER TOMORROW

  “Well, I couldn’t agree with you more since I’m the one you’re sleeping with, but do me a favor?” Cees waited impatiently for Miranda to continue. “Let me talk to Vance Þ rst. I’ll explain to him that workplace romances are now being frowned on by the higher-ups.”

  Cees
raised her eyebrows and Miranda laughed. “All they care about are ratings, but Vance doesn’t have to know that.”

  “All right, but if he asks me to dinner one more time…”

  “Can’t blame the man for having good taste. I asked you out too, remember?”

  How could she forget? The restaurant had been nearly empty and the hand that had settled comfortably on her thigh during their conversation had crept a bit higher than was proper. When Þ ngers had pressed against the seam of her khakis forcing her clitoris ß at, Cees had grabbed the table edge for support. The bill had been paid quickly, and the drive to Miranda’s apartment would have afforded her a speeding ticket if she had been caught.

  The sex was good, but the question in the back of Cees’s head had been there distracting her, keeping her from losing herself in Miranda’s sweet femininity.

  Why was she having sex with someone she didn’t love? The answer was as painful now as it had been when it Þ rst came to her. Because the woman she loved had made it quite clear that there would never be a future for them. Sleeping with Miranda allowed her to forget that fact, at least some of the time.

  “You know what I mean,” Cees said. “We don’t know if he can keep a secret.”

  “So what if he can’t? At this point will it really matter?”

  Cees folded her arms across her chest and studied Miranda. She was sure that Miranda enjoyed the sex, but there was something about her that made it very apparent that they would never have more than that. Cees, never one for uninvolved sex in the past, found that she was grateful. She wasn’t available for more than that. Not yet.

  “It matters. The show is geared toward—”

  • 11 •

  GABRIELLE GOLDSBY

  “I know. Single women who are Þ rst-time home owners.”

  What Cees didn’t say was, this was nothing new; the show was geared toward women long before Miranda and the national contract that put an extra zero on the end of Cees’s salary. Not that Cees cared about money. Her wardrobe for the show—Þ tted T-shirt, blue jeans, and boots—was pretty much her costume for life. The only changes Miranda had insisted on had to do with tailoring, fabric, and color. Although she thought the whole thing ridiculous, Cees never complained when the T-shirts changed from beefy cotton to a Þ ne Egyptian cotton, nor did she complain when the plain white started to become pastels. She did draw the line when they tried to get her to wear pedal pushers during the pool house episode.

  “Come around here. Let me show you something.”

  Cees reluctantly stood and walked around Miranda’s desk to peer at the dual computer monitors.

  “See this?” Miranda pulled up a graph. “These are your ratings when you were just a local show.” Miranda pointed with a pen at the second screen. “These are the ratings of your closest competitor. Not even close. A full Þ fteen percent lower than yours.”

  Cees had heard all this before. Without those ratings she wouldn’t have been picked up nationally.

  “Now look here.” Miranda pointed. “These are our ratings now that you’re with Vance, and here are your nearest competitors.” Miranda pointed to two colored lines.

  “Twenty-Þ ve percent difference,” Cees said.

  “Yup. The show is doing great. The asinine actor is a big hit.”

  “I don’t get it. With who? I thought you said the show appealed to single women.”

  “True, but you always had that fan base locally. We expected you to keep that on the national level, but we were also counting on the housewives and the thirtysomething hetero males.”

  “Hence the beard,” Cees said with resignation.

  • 12 •

  REMEMBER TOMORROW

  “Wait.” Miranda held up her hands. “Your sexuality is not an issue. We only asked that you be discreet. At no time have we implied a relationship between you and Vance.”

  “I know you haven’t, but…I think people think we are. I can’t Þ gure out why.”

  “You’re gorgeous, smart, and capable. It took the lesbian community all of two episodes to decide that if you weren’t a

  ‘sister,’ you damn well should be. The straight women want to be like you, and the straight men just want you.”

  “What about the gay men?”

  Miranda frowned as if thinking about it. “They probably actually watch the show for the DIY tips.”

  Cees smiled, and Miranda stood up and hooked a hand around Cees’s waist to pull her closer even as she looked toward her ofÞ ce door to make sure that it was closed. “When will I see you again? You haven’t been by to pet the kitty in almost a month.” Miranda’s voice was low as her lips tickled the line of Cees’s jaw. “Petting the kitty” was Miranda’s unoriginal term for having sex. Today it seemed even more crass than usual.

  “Bastian wouldn’t miss you if you were gone for a few weeks, as long as someone came around to feed him,” Cees said, purposely misunderstanding.

  Miranda laughed. “He’s a Siamese. Very few of them come without attitude.”

  “Miranda…don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to have someone other than Bastian to come home to? I mean permanently?” Miranda released Cees’s waist and tucked the tendril of hair that had escaped her ponytail. Cees pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, a nervous habit that she wished would get edited from some of the takes, but Miranda said people loved.

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. My parents would love for me to settle down and have kids. Preferably with a man, but I think they would be happy just to see me with a family of my own.”

  “So you have considered it?” Cees was surprised, and her

  • 13 •

  GABRIELLE GOLDSBY

  voice showed it. Why was she asking Miranda all this anyway?

  She knew why. The doctor’s appointment this morning had Þ lled her with joy and fear at the same time. Although she had resigned herself to a lifetime of sleeping alone, her body still yearned for the promise of several minutes of pleasure and a few moments where pain was forgotten.

  Miranda kissed Cees hard on the mouth. “Of course I have, sweetie. I’m thirty-six years old. Biology forces me to consider it, but the thought doesn’t linger.” As if sensing the sinking feeling that her comments gave Cees, Miranda rushed to explain. “I’ve spent a long time getting to this position. They put me here to see what I would do with it. If the show is successful, and I know it will be, there’ll be other opportunities. I couldn’t ask anyone to ride that roller coaster with me right now. Maybe in a few years.”

  Miranda brushed her lips against Cees’s neck. “You should seriously think about stopping by tonight,” she whispered, and Cees could hear the desire in her voice.

  “I can’t.” The words came without thought, without hesitation, and Cees blinked after she realized she had spoken them. Why couldn’t she? Why was she holding back? There was no question that Miranda wanted her, and based on the dampness of her own underwear, Cees couldn’t deny being physically attracted to her as well.

  “Can’t, or don’t want to?” The skin between the perfect brows was bunched and angry looking.

  Cees stepped out of the circle of her arms. “I just…can’t.”

  “Why not? We both enjoyed the sex last time, correct?”

  Cees agreed.

  “So what’s the big deal? I’m not asking you to marry me, just a little lick and tickle.” Miranda laughed, but Cees bit her bottom lip. A little lick and tickle? Was that all it was to her? Of course that was all it was, and if you were honest with yourself, that’s all it was to you too.

  “No, it’s just that I promised Lilly we would have dinner tonight. We’ve both been so busy we haven’t had time to catch up

  • 14 •

  REMEMBER TOMORROW

  in a few months.” Stop being such a wimp and tell her the truth, for God’s sake.

  “Call her up and tell her you’re tired.” Miranda’s voice had taken on a seductive, wheedling tone.

&nbs
p; “Ah no, sorry. I’ve already broken off too many dates with Lil.” This was the truth. Lilly had started prodding at places that still ached, and it just seemed easier not to call her than to be bulldogged about why she was having sex with someone she had no future with.

  “Are you sure I can’t convince you?” Cees thought Miranda was going to give her a quick kiss, but the expected peck was turned into a long, crotch-pulsating kiss. Cees sighed and allowed herself to be engulfed by the heat. A night with Miranda would be delicious. She would come and she would sleep, but the next morning she would wake up hungry for something she would never have again. Sometimes a taste is just enough to create a craving. Cees was so tired of craving that she had decided to give up altogether. Miranda wouldn’t like it. Hell, she didn’t like it, but it would be better for everyone involved.

  Cees reluctantly pushed Miranda back by the shoulders.

  With her eyes still closed she said, “I need to talk to you about something.”

  As if scripted, the phone chose that moment to ring and Miranda quickly walked around the desk and picked it up. She studied Cees’s face as she said, “Miranda Hamilton’s ofÞ ce.”

  If there was a trace of breathlessness or arousal evident in her voice, Cees missed it entirely. Miranda listened for a moment and then sat down and began riß ing in her desk drawer. “Oh, hi there.

  Thanks for getting back to me.” She looked up at Cees, rolled her eyes, pointed at the phone, and mouthed “sorry.” Cees smiled and started for the door. Just before she closed it behind her, she glanced back. Miranda was not only attractive and good in bed, she would never question Cees’s inability to give her whole heart.

  Aside from their working together, the situation was perfect. So why was she thinking about ending it with her? The answer was

  • 15 •

  GABRIELLE GOLDSBY

  as clear as the hopelessness of ever having a serious relationship with Miranda. Cees couldn’t give her heart to anyone. Not now, perhaps not ever again. But just because she couldn’t, didn’t mean she didn’t want to.