by Roxy Harte
Using the remote, I lift the blackout shades, just enough to allow in some light. I could probably open them all the way, because it is overcast and gray, but I don’t want to risk waking her. I study her face in the morning light. Her eyes are so exotic and I’ve never asked who is responsible for the slanted lids, the ultra-thick lashes that fan over her cheekbones. Her mother? Her father? Though her eyes are closed, I know the exact shade of golden amber that makes her exotic eyes even more extraordinary.
She is absolutely beautiful.
Sure, I’ve had that thought before, but it has always embarrassed me. I think it is because I’ve never seen her wear makeup and the word has always seemed too feminine a word to describe her—but in the soft gray light of morning, I decide that beautiful is exactly the word. Her nose and high cheekbones sport a sprinkle of freckles I’d never noticed before because they are so light. A small, darker mole dots to the right of her upper lip, a beauty mark that begs to be kissed. I try not to move, try not to wake her, as I study her mouth, wondering why last night’s drunken fascination has carried over to today. Has she always had such a kissable mouth and it took getting really drunk to realize it? I bite my own lower lip, telling myself to stop it because I could ruin a wonderful friendship in just a matter of seconds.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” She startles me and catches my gaze. Her lips curl into a half smile. “You are looking way too serious this morning. Hangover?”
I find I can’t look away from her eyes because they are suddenly more interesting in the morning light. Her irises are flecked with a molten brown. “I was just thinking that I’ve never kissed a girl.”
She pushes up on one elbow, gazing down at me, looking suddenly intrigued. “Never? Not a single girl-on-girl moment in all of those movies you’ve made?”
I shake my head. “Not a single time.”
“No bi-curiosity in college?”
I laugh. “No!”
“Damn. I guess you really are straight.”
I bite my bottom lip, whispering, “I guess so,” thinking I should shut up now before I say something I’m really going to regret. “So, why do I want to kiss you?”
Her right eyebrow arches. “Do you?”
I nod. “You intrigue me. I haven’t thought about it in a long time because we’re such good friends now, but that was the impetus the first time I introduced myself at O’Leary’s. You were loud and confident and stunning. And your eyes are nothing short of exotic.”
“I have my mother’s eyes,” she says and it seems like a confession rather than a detail. “She’s Vietnamese, she still lives there.”
My eyebrow goes up and I am even more fascinated, but I don’t ask. I don’t push. It seems Geri is not the type of person to share family details lightly. I make my own confession in a soft whisper, “I watched you for an hour from across the room before I actually walked over. I assumed you were a lesbian and wondered if kissing a woman would be the same as kissing a man.”
“Huh.” Her gaze turns hungry. That look I know, realizing that it is the same on a man or a woman. “I’ve never kissed a man, so I’m no good for an answer.”
“Never?” I gasp.
“Is that so hard to believe? Am I missing something amazing?”
I duck my head. “I’ve shared a few extraordinary kisses in my day.”
She lifts my chin, holding it, and reclaims my gaze. “I don’t know how that can be possible since you’ve never kissed a woman.”
I shake my head, knowing that she is about to remedy that even before she leans in. My breath catches and I find myself not breathing as her mouth moves closer. Her lips hover over mine, teasingly close. She asks softly, “Can I be your first?”
I whisper, “Yes.”
Our lips barely bump before she pulls away to look into my eyes. I think she must be checking to see if I’ve changed my mind. I haven’t. I hope she hasn’t. My lips turn up in a soft smile, encouraging her, and that’s all it takes for her lips to move into mine. Her mouth is softer than I expected, her bottom lip feeling surprisingly fuller. Her mouth opens slightly and mine follows along. Her tongue teases my bottom lip, calling my tongue out to play, and before I know what has happened our mouths are locked, our tongues dancing against each other. Her kiss seems to speed a straight line down my spine to my pussy and it registers in my brain once again that I want her.
I have no idea what I’m doing; I’m out of my league here.
She chuckles.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“You did, but don’t worry. I have some experience if you’re sure you want to do this.”
I nod but then I check myself. I really am about to ruin everything. “I can’t do this.” I keep my eyes closed.
“No worries. You did get my hopes up for a second though.” She strokes my cheek just before I feel her weight shift on my bed. She whispers, “I’ll let myself out.”
I hear her walking away. I count each step as she moves down the staircase.
Damn, damn, damn! Please don’t leave!
She has to go! I’m being an idiot!
“Geri, wait!” I jump out of bed and chase after her, stopping at the landing to look over the side into the foyer. She has just opened the door, but when she hears me call her name she looks up. “Wait,” I say, racing down the steps. “I want to explain.”
“You don’t have to explain,” she insists. “I get it, you’re straight.”
“No. I mean, maybe.” I stop in front of her, hoping she isn’t as confused as I am. “No! I mean, I want you…I just can’t have sex with you. I don’t want to hurt you or ruin our friendship by rushing into something that neither of us is ready for. If we ever had sex, it would have to be for the right reasons.”
She leaves the door open, but turns to face me. Cool air raises goose flesh on my arms and legs and I wrap my arms around my middle to cover my exposed skin. “What would be the right reasons?”
I smile. “It would be easier to tell you all of the wrong reasons.”
She smirks. “Okay, tell me all the wrong reasons.”
“Sex might feel better for a minute, but it won’t fix my problem. I can’t ruin years of friendship over a few minutes of naked just to reboot my self-esteem. Simon made me really sad yesterday and in the past I’ve used sex for all the wrong reasons, like when I’m hurting emotionally, but sex isn’t going to cure what’s wrong.”
“So, what? You fought with Simon and because you still have it so bad for him, you won’t give anyone else a shot?”
I snort. “I’ll admit that my head is seriously messed up when it comes to matters of sex and relationships because of Simon and that’s why I don’t date. Ever. But I don’t have it bad for him.”
She lifts her brow, doubt evident in her eyes.
“I don’t want to be with him,” I insist. “Once, but not anymore.”
She nods, seeming to accept my answer. She slides her fingertips over my shoulder, teasing my flesh, making me step closer with no more invitation than that single stroke. Her gaze draws me even nearer. “So, maybe sex isn’t a cure for whatever happened yesterday, but for now, I could at least take your mind off the drama. I’m pretty certain of my ability to make you forget what happened altogether…if just for a little while.”
I roll my eyes. “Still, sex…I can’t ruin our friendship over something so insignificant.”
“Wow. I’ve never quite seen sex as insignificant, but clearly, being a professional, you do have more experience.”
Ouch. I understand that her attack on my career is a reaction to my rejection. “You’re right. If I wasn’t a professional, I might be able to relax and enjoy the sexual part of relationships, but as it is…sex just seems like work…I feel nothing.”
“You felt nothing upstairs?” Her hand goes up to my cheek and she holds my face as she leans in tentatively. I meet her halfway and when our lips touch, it is with gentleness that I have never experienced when kissing. Withou
t thinking, I start to kiss her back, enjoying exploring her lips, her mouth. She teases my bottom lip playfully and it sends a shockwave of need through my body. She pulls away just a little. I wrap my hand around the nape of her neck and pull her into my mouth, kissing her hard and deep. Her fingers weave into my hair at the base of my skull and she pulls me back and gazes deep into my eyes.
I want her.
“Nothing? Huh.” She kisses the tip of my nose before turning and walking to her Jeep, leaving me stunned, not sure what just happened…knowing only that my heart is about to pound through my chest and the ache in my heart from losing my job just multiplied by a hundred because I feel like the best thing that might have ever happened to me in this life just walked out my door. I watch her as she drives away, her Jeep making a wide arc in the driveway to turn around so that she can drive straight out onto the road, a steep incline on a wide curve that would make it too dangerous to back into. As she pulls out, Simon pulls in, and I start to wonder if my day could get any worse.
I stay in the threshold, waiting. It doesn’t seem to matter that I am wearing only my bra and panties and, as he approaches, he doesn’t even raise an eyebrow. With a heavy sigh, I go back into the house to retrieve a robe from the bedroom. When I come back down, he is sitting on my couch, looking anxious. As way of explanation for his unexpected arrival so early in the morning, he says, “You wouldn’t answer my calls.”
“We have nothing to discuss. I’m not retiring,” I say lightly as I take the last two steps down the staircase.
“The production company isn’t renewing your contract, Simone, no matter what you say or do.”
I sit in the chair opposite him, glad for the chair, because my world suddenly tilts on its axis, making me dizzy. I swallow hard, meeting his eyes. “Then why are you here?” My tone is icy and my entire body has started to tremble.
“You left before I finished yesterday. The production company wants you to retire from acting, but I want you to stay in the business. I have a business proposition for you.”
I start to tremble harder, not wanting to hear anything he has to say.
“You’ve already agreed to go with me to Tokyo to jump-start the Asian startup—”
I cut him off. “So, I’m too old and repulsive for the American market, but Asians love old chicks, is that it?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not talking about acting, your on-film days are over. I have a bigger proposition for you.”
I close my eyes to keep from puking. I am really being blackballed. My mind starts racing, thinking of all the production companies that I could go to. Someone will hire me. I’m Simone. The thought makes me slightly less panicked and I look at him with a smirk, telling him tartly, “Wet City isn’t the only adult industry label.”
“If you think they will still want you in three years, that’s your prerogative, but I’d like you to hear me out.”
Three years. Three years. The clause in my contract that limits my ability to work for any other adult-industry production company for three years glares at me from a memory cell in my brain. I read it, I agreed to it, I never gave it a second thought. I was going to be Mrs. Simon Kramer, I wasn’t going to be acting my entire life. What would it matter? I didn’t want to do this job for anyone else except Simon…
So, why am I considering it now?
Oh God.
I think about the money I have in the bank, my investments. Clearly, I don’t need to work…
I shrug, trying not to show him the panic filling my guts. “Then I don’t work. It’s not like I need the money, and really, there is a ton of other stuff I could be doing with my time.”
Ton of other stuff? Where did that come from?
“So, really, there isn’t any reason for you to be here. You should go.”
He stands. “Hear me out? I have a very generous offer for you.”
I look up at him and sigh. “What?”
“Wet City Media doesn’t have anything to do with the Tokyo studio. Tokyo is all me. I was tired of having a board of directors telling me what to do, so I’m bankrolling the whole thing. I am AsiaFlixxx.”
“So, the three-year clause doesn’t apply to Tokyo?”
“You aren’t listening, Simone. I don’t want you to go to Tokyo as an actress, I want you to go to Tokyo as my business partner. Fifty-fifty, you and me.”
I look at him with a blank stare and then all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, his edginess the last few weeks, the sudden decision by the board of directors to can me…he needs a cash roll…and he doesn’t want to go to Wet City for the money. Or maybe the board of directors already told him no.
Shaking my head, I snort, but there is no humor in it. “You want my money.”
“This is an excellent opportunity.”
“Or a big risk,” I say, a troubling thought nagging at the back of my brain. “Who put the idea into the board’s heads that I was too old? You?”
“It wasn’t like that, Simone. Yes, I need an investor, and you are in a position that you could be that person. And if you do so, you stand to make a lot of money…but you also have an insight that I don’t have. You’ve made us both very wealthy because when you are on camera, it seems real. You have a rare talent. Just look at this as a change of roles. Come to Japan with me. Be my consultant.” He leans forward, taking my hand, and the instant sizzle that goes up my elbow reminds me of the chemistry we once shared. I pull my hand away. He tilts his head at me and smiles, but I don’t believe it. I remember all the times past that his smile has misled me and manipulated me. What is it about this man? Even when I want to kill him I want to give him the few remaining moments I would let him live to fuck me one last time.
“Once I had the opportunity to be with a woman who would have honestly loved me and I blew that. I’m an idiot. I want to spend my life with someone who gives a damn about me and, once upon a time, you did. Give me another chance. I love you.” He swallows hard and licks his lips, his eyes boring into me with a new intensity that makes me nervous. “We could start over with this trip. Me and you. Say the words. Be my companion—”
“What?” I choke on his words. Consultant? Companion? What happened to partners?
Angry, I stand and push him toward the door. “Get out! You orchestrated this entire thing, didn’t you? Ruined my life so you can offer me something new and exciting?”
He backs toward the door, his hands lifted. “It isn’t like that.”
“Oh, I think it is exactly like that.”
“Just think about it, Simone. That’s all I’m asking.”
I keep walking forward, he keeps backing up, until finally, he is just through the threshold. I slam the door in his face. How did I ever think the man was anything but evil?
Chapter Six
I am still shaking, still seeing red as I walk into the kitchen for a glass of water. I don’t get a drink. I pick up my phone and dial Geri. I’m not even sure what I’m doing as the phone starts ringing. She won’t answer…I know she won’t, because she’s like that. Stubborn. She answers on the fifth ring. Oh shit. Now what?
“I’m sorry.” I say, not even bothering to say hello first. “This morning didn’t go so well and I don’t want to leave things as they are right now.”
“I know,” she says. “I was going to pull back into the driveway instead of leaving, but then he showed up.”
“Yeah, that.” My voice bristles angrily.
“So, your mood last night was all about him?” I get the feeling that she thinks I’m lying about us no longer being involved.
I sigh, trying to wrap my head around what to say. I know that Geri really hates Simon. “I really don’t want to talk about Simon, or my problems at work, I just called because you are very important to me. And I really wish I hadn’t stopped kissing you this morning.”
Okay. I said it. Now what?
“Do you mean that?” she asks softly.
“Yes, I do.”
There is a l
ong silence and I am just getting really uncomfortable when she asks, “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
Like a date? I long to ask, but I don’t. I’m just happy I get to see her. I answer with an enthusiastic, “Yes. Do you want me to meet you at O’Leary’s?”
“I was thinking someplace a little quieter, off our beaten path, if that’s okay with you?”
When she suggested Maconochie’s, a pub outside of town that I’d never heard of before, I still saw O’Leary’s in my head, but as I arrive in Maconochie’s parking lot, I realize that they are as far removed from each other as night and day. I tilt my head when I arrive, because I’m not one-hundred-percent certain that I’m at the right place. The signage says that I am, but the building looks more like a hunter’s lodge than a pub. Actually, it is a log cabin, granted a very large cabin, two stories, stone halfway up the façade, rough-hewn wood on top, and an age about it, like it has stood in the same spot for over a hundred years, maybe two hundred. The parking lot is almost deserted, surprising for a Saturday night but then it is fairly off the beaten track. One thing is certain. It is her Jeep I pull up beside when I park.
Climbing from my car, I see her, standing on the wide porch. Deep shadows had kept her hidden until she stepped forward and I can’t help smiling when she lifts her hand.
I lift mine and crunch over the gravel parking area in my three-inch heels, hoping not to twist an ankle. I feel overdressed. The flowery sundress and strappy sandals suddenly seem too date-ish. Of course, she’s wearing jeans. But, as I step closer, she looks perfect. She’s wearing a Ralph Lauren black polo—an easy tell from the bright red embroidered number two on the right chest and dueling ponies on the left—and black leather shoes, both of which scream of newness. She dressed up too. The thought makes me smile. Maybe it is a real date then. I wish I knew.