Hotel Liasion

by JLee Meyer

  Shouting, “Laurel!” Stef rushed to the car and within seconds they were in each other’s arms, tears streaming down their faces.

  “Are you okay? I’m going to knock that bitch from here to…” When she was able to look into Laurel’s eyes, she saw joy there.

  “You don’t have to, my love, I’ve already taken care of that.” Laurel winked at her. Winked!

  Stef asked, “What happened?”

  Ember had hustled up to them and answered on Laurel’s behalf. “She beat the wicked witch, and everyone’s talking about it. Dr. Jacobs tried to attack her when she won at racquetball and ended up hurting herself. That is so cool.”

  Stef held Laurel at arm’s length and said, “You beat her at racquetball? Really?”

  Nodding, Laurel said, “Yup. And she got so upset she tried to serve the ball to my face.” When she saw Stef react she quickly said, “I didn’t have time to think, I must have instinctively flipped my racquet in front of my face and the ball hit the racquet. It rebounded into Rochelle’s nose and I think she broke it. Talk about instant karma.”

  “But how did you get the bandage on your forehead?” Stef didn’t care about Rochelle, she wanted to know about Laurel.

  “I guess the recoil of the racquet when the ball hit it nailed me. It all happened so fast, then chaos ensued, as it were.”

  Stef stared at Laurel for a second, then smiled. “You’re enjoying this. Congratulations. The wicked witch is dead.”

  “Or at least out of my life.” Laurel was actually bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  “What about school? She’s still department chair.”

  “I’ll think about that later. Let me finish here and then will you please take me home? We have all the time in the world to plan our next move.”

  Despite all the commotion, Laurel had managed to send a message that landed directly in Stef’s heart and made the world a brighter place. They had all the time in the world.

  An hour later they were back at the hotel, and much to Laurel’s surprise, her friends had held up their celebration until she could be present. Her heart flooded with appreciation at that knowledge.

  Denny and Jock took the champagne and sparkling cider and filled the delicate flutes that Sika and Mrs. C had set out.

  Sika said, “To courage, then and now.”

  They all had a sip and sat down and were chatting excitedly when Seraphina Drake Holloway stood and held her glass up, tapping it gently.

  In a voice that belied her age, she said, “Years ago, a member of the Elysium Society gave us what was to become a toast we often used. I think it is appropriate tonight. To celebrate all of you. Your courage, your history, and your future.”

  All stood and held their glasses to the air and waited.

  “‘When we do the best that we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life, or in the life of another.’ Here is to the miracle of the women that have gone before us, and the miracles we have yet to perform for others. Here is to the future.”

  They drank and were silent. After a moment, Laurel said, “I know that quote. It’s from Helen Keller. Was she a…”

  Sika raised her glass again and said, “To the Elysium Society, as it rises again.”

  *

  Back in their room, Laurel and Stef were quiet, each absorbing the events of the day. Laurel glanced at Stef, so deep in thought, and went to her.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” She took Stef in her arms.

  Cocking her head, Stef said, “Pre nineteen eighty or post?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Well, there was more copper in them pre nineteen eighty and so they weighed more and are worth more today, you know.”

  “Okay…pre nineteen eighty.” Laurel wondered where this was going.

  “Well, I was wondering what your reaction to your time with Rochelle was. I mean, I was hoping that…”

  “Do you know that Rochelle once told me that her partner should tell her she’s right, no matter what she says? And I didn’t question that, I held my tongue.”

  Eyes round, Stef said, “Wow. That woman is such a…”

  Hugging her tightly, Laurel said, “That is so nice of you to take my side and I love you for it. But I was wrong for not running as fast as I could out the door. She told me exactly the kind of person she was, and I was so insecure I couldn’t leave her. Knowing that, how can you respect me?”

  Stef could only answer from her heart. “Maybe I’m the same kind of person as Rochelle. I’m hot-tempered and always looking for betrayal. I can be arrogant, self-centered, egotistical…” A finger gently placed on her lips followed by a soft kiss shushed her.

  “Not to mention redundant.” Laurel deepened the kiss.

  Pulling a millimeter away, Stef murmured, “That, too.”

  “For the record, Stef, you are nothing like Rochelle. You are strong and kind and sweet and honest, and I love you.” A few more heated kisses and Laurel managed, “I’m a mess and I need a shower. I’d invite you in but it’s so cramped I’m afraid we’d get stuck and the call for help would be really embarrassing. What about you?”

  “I’ll get in after you. All that stark terror has left me in similar shape.”

  Laurel backed away and squeezed Stef’s hands. “I won’t take long, and don’t you either.” She was stripping on her way to the bathroom and naked by the time she stood in the door, smiling seductively. “Be right back.”

  Stef wondered if perhaps she was in a dream, a fantasy of what love could be like if it was real. She drifted into the bedroom and removed her clothes, slipping into a short terry robe. She took the few steps to the bathroom door and pushed it open.

  Laurel was easily visible through the clear shower curtain. She was soaping her body and Stef could only admire every move. After a moment, Laurel realized she was there and smiled, resoaping her breasts and using slow circular movements to rub them, then lightly pinch her nipples, her eyes never leaving Stef.

  Stef stood transfixed as Laurel rinsed, then squeezed some gel in her hands and addressed her center, running the length of her sex and pulling slightly, until Stef could see her swollen clit, and she licked her lips, longing to taste. She let the front of her robe fall open and Laurel’s eyes darkened with passion.

  “God, Stef, come here.” She separated her labia and let the water rush to cleanse the soap, moaning at the sensation.

  Stef moved to be by her side, standing just outside of the enclosure. She pulled back the curtain and reached, feeling Laurel’s need, all of the blood in her body rushing to the same place as Laurel’s. She stroked Laurel as Laurel slowly sank to her knees.

  Clinging to her, Laurel breathed, “Don’t stop, darling, don’t stop.”

  Stef concentrated on the sensation of her fingertips, the way she could feel every change in Laurel’s body. She held her when she curled back, knowing her orgasm was imminent, and then shuddered as the spasms overtook her love as she came and it flowed over her hand. The hard pulsing in her clitoris told her she was close to her own orgasm.

  Laurel said urgently, “Stand up, stand up.”

  Stef struggled to her feet and Laurel wrapped her arms around her waist and buried her face in her lover’s core, sucking and stroking with her tongue until she felt Stef explode into a universe that was entirely their own.

  When Stef came to her senses Laurel had switched positions on her and was outside the shower, dripping wet, washing her. She was leaning against the wall but was able to stand and still Laurel’s hand as she began to address her throbbing center.

  “Get dried off or you’ll catch cold. I’ll meet you in bed in five minutes.” One corner of Laurel’s mouth quirked up and she nodded, grabbing a towel and drying herself as Stef watched. She could barely wash her clit without coming again.

  Stef turned off the faucets and grinned when a dry towel was tossed in her direction. She took her time, and when she crawled into bed next to Laurel, she turned off the lamp beside the bed and took L
aurel in her arms. “Every time we’re together it’s different. It’s always stronger, it always makes me love you more. But I worry.”

  Laurel was still, sensing something important was happening. “What about, darling? What worries you?”

  “I think that I’ll hurt you, that you’ll think I’m like…that woman. That I’ll be too rough with you. You’re such a…so much a lady.”

  Laurel let out a sigh. “So that’s why you always let me set the pace of our lovemaking, because you don’t want to hurt me or remind me of her.” She was grateful to Stef for talking about it.

  “Yes. My feelings are so strong, so frighteningly strong sometimes. I…worry.”

  Reaching up to turn the lamp back on, Laurel said, “Darling, look at me.”

  Stef gazed at her, raw emotion there for her to see.

  “I’m tougher than I look. I want you to take me any way you want me. And if you don’t fuck my brains out for the rest of the night, you’ll disappoint me. Because I definitely have plans for you.”

  When Laurel smiled slyly and reached for the lamp switch, Stef stopped her. “No, I want to see you.” She rolled her on her back and pulled the covers off.

  Laurel bent her knees and opened her legs wide. “Take me.”

  And Stef did, all night long.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  One month later there was a tea at Seraphina’s home in Pacific Heights. Stef and Laurel had moved into one of the many suites in the grand old mansion. Another two rooms held all of the material recovered from the hotel and the records that Irina Castic had secreted in her rooms for over forty years.

  Stef felt like they were living in a fantasy with so many priceless antiques and modern touches, too. An elevator had been installed at some point, probably when Seraphina’s husband had been ill. It wasn’t used much because both of the older residents preferred the exercise of the stairs, but was kept in working order.

  The work of the hotel had been halted two days before, there simply was no more money. Stef and the others were working on obtaining private funding from wealthy patrons but had found many doors closed to them. As promised, the Bohemians’ tentacles were far reaching.

  Seraphina and Irina had planned the tea, and Sika made sure all were in attendance from the hotel. Sika had been virtually absent from the hotel for the past month, over at the mansion working with Carolyn Flemons, the designer. She was in the hotel only to meet her friend from West Marin and plan the new kitchen. Stef felt so guilty about not having the money to realize Sika’s dreams that she found herself avoiding that part of the hotel when Sika was there.

  She kept herself busy making phone calls and running budget numbers, and when that became too tedious, joining Jock, Denny, and her crew and doing manual labor. The bones of the building were solid and set. Now all they needed was a few million more to complete rooms, and she had no idea how that would happen. Seraphina said if she hadn’t already sold the property she’d make a gift of it to them, but it was out of her hands. Even selling more of her holdings to help would have Trip and his cronies on her all over again.

  Irina kept patting her hand and told her not to worry, but Stef couldn’t stand the insecurity. That morning she’d decided to contact her father and ask for financing help. As soon as this gathering was finished, she’d make the call. She’d told her partners, and Sika had insisted she wait until after the tea party. Stef was dreading the moment she would have to admit her father was right—she couldn’t make it on her own.

  Laurel had sent a letter to the university saying that she would complete her teaching obligations for the term and then was going on an extended leave. If they chose not to accept that, she would resign. A letter accepting her leave and signed by the university president as well as Rochelle Jacobs had been sent within the week. Evidently Rochelle was going to remain department chair, but the university was keeping tabs on her and was not going to rock the boat.

  Laurel spent her days at the mansion with her precious find and she was in heaven, but she was also faced with a conundrum. Publishing her findings, especially about the Elysium Society, would no doubt make her career. But revealing the society’s existence placed its future at risk and the accomplishments of its members in question. Revealing the names of some of its famous and illustrious members who were long dead would create repercussions over which she had no control.

  The media could take the information and reduce all of the good works of these women into a quest for lesbian lust. The Bohos would most certainly do all they could to destroy their reputations, and their members included publishers and owners of huge media conglomerates. That knowledge helped her make her decision. The Elysium Society would stay secret.

  When she and Stef finally fell into bed at night, they barely were awake long enough to make sure they were sharing the right bed with the right person. But the early mornings were very reassuring and started the day just right. It was good to be in love.

  Stef watched the women file in and help themselves to sandwiches, tea, and coffee. Jock had even gone home and cleaned up, and Agnes had Lefty looking quite presentable, too. Agnes had become an invaluable executive assistant. Although Stef had yet to hear the sound of Lefty’s voice, she knew that Jock trusted her, and that was good enough.

  The doorbell rang again and Sika opened it to a lovely woman of about her age, whom she greeted warmly with a hug. Stef recognized her as the designer, Carolyn Flemons. She’d been so busy that other than a perfunctory introduction, she’d left her to Sika. It didn’t matter that she’d forgone her fee, really, because even if her designs were award winning, eventually they would need to be paid for. Another brick on the load she carried. Carolyn introduced her daughter, Keri, and although she said the other woman, Dana, was her daughter, too, there was no familial resemblance and it looked very much like Keri and Dana were together.

  Right behind them were some other women she didn’t recognize, perhaps friends of Sera or Irina. It looked like they were bringing their daughters and/or granddaughters. My, this really is a tea party.

  One face she did recognize belonged to the woman who had stormed her office that day and given them the membership list of the Bohos. Conn Stryker was accompanied by a lovely woman, and they were obviously a couple. Stef could feel their connection from across the room. Odd, why here and why now? Several more couples entered, too. She recognized Sika’s friend who was helping design the kitchen, and the woman who was obviously her partner, known worldwide as a top journalist.

  The last guest to arrive walked in quietly, came over to Laurel, and hugged her. Kate Hoffman looked like Laurel but definitely had the star quality about her. Stef stood and shook her hand politely, hoping Kate would like her and tell Laurel she approved. Kate grinned and hugged them both warmly and whispered something in her sister’s ear. She then sat nearby and chatted with some of the other guests. Stef tried to catch Laurel’s eye but couldn’t.

  Taking another look at all of the women around the room, she could feel a building excitement. Of all the ages, shapes, and sizes, the one thing that they seemed to have in common was a keen intelligence in their eyes. By the time the last guests arrived, Stef was sitting forward, sensing something more than tea would be happening.

  Seraphina stood with the aid of a beautiful hand-carved cane and greeted everyone. She had only to clear her throat to silence the low-level hum in the room. “Today is a marvelous day in my life, one that I have waited and wished for, for over forty years. Today is the day that the Elysium Society rises from the ashes and begins again.”

  Stef felt Laurel beside her on the rolled arm of the chair, squeezing her shoulder. The current in the room almost crackled. Laurel had a tablet of paper and was taking notes.

  “Our roots extend into the past, we aren’t sure exactly how far. At least to the Civil War period, when we were active in the underground railway, supporting and hiding runaway slaves and finding jobs and training for them in their new lives. We had members w
ho lived in Paris in the twenties and were part of the new intelligentsia. Our concerns were for women and the advancement of their rights and the rights of others. And always, always our purpose was secret. As far-flung as our membership was, the heart eventually rested here, in San Francisco, dating back before the great earthquake and fire in 1906. My contribution was the hotel, and although circumstances dictated that I marry, I was able to maintain control of it. Until we were discovered.” Seraphina reached for Irina’s hand and seemed buoyed.

  “My husband, as much of a philanderer as he was, could not tolerate my love for Irina Castic. We fell in love before I had to marry him, and although I tried desperately to keep my vows, I could not bear to be apart from her. Someone discovered our relationship, I suspect my son. Trip was young but must have felt jealous of my obvious love of her and hers for me. More than that, whatever he said must have alerted Clayton that there was more going on at the hotel than just ladies having high tea and discussing books. Perhaps one of the guests of the hotel had been denied membership in the Society and alerted her husband out of spite. We might not ever know.” Her voice trembled and her eyes shone as she remembered the betrayal.

  “He seized control of the hotel, which was his legal right as my husband. He purposefully dismantled it, allowed it to turn into what it remained for all that time. The one condition he agreed to was to allow Irina, my lover, to live there. He only agreed to that to prevent a scandal and to get me to agree to never have contact with her again. He swore that if I did, he would not only evict her from the hotel, he would have her sent back to Serbia, where she most certainly would perish in jail. I had no choice, I had to protect her.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Stef wiped her own eyes.

  “The one thing he couldn’t control was the fact that his son was too much like him. After many heated arguments, and many capricious and irresponsible episodes with Clayton the Third, he agreed to let me be executor of the estate. On his deathbed, he asked that I sell the hotel to the Bohemian Club.