by KI Thompson
“It’s not in Atlanta,” Kate said. She couldn’t read Ellen’s expression. Was she happy or not? Did Ellen care if she stayed or left? She wanted to touch Ellen, to relate with her like they had last night. Their union had been incredible, and she thought it had meant something to each of them. But she wasn’t so sure now. Ellen had distanced herself, and she didn’t know how to reconnect.
Through a dense fog, Ellen realized Kate had said she wasn’t moving to Atlanta. A spark of hope ignited somewhere in her inner darkness.
“You mean you’ll be here in DC?” she asked, the blood beginning to flow through her body again.
“No. In London.”
Ellen couldn’t control her jaw. “London?” The word came out as a squeak. “You’re moving to London?”
“Well, I don’t have the job yet. I’m going to talk to them.”
“But they asked to see you, right?” Ellen asked. “That’s a pretty good sign.”
Kate shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Ellen gazed at Kate, trying to gauge how she felt. She longed to tell Kate what she really wanted. She didn’t want her to go to London. She wanted her to stay. She wanted to take Kate to bed and show her how much she loved her so she would never be tempted to leave. But did she have that right? Kate needed the job, needed to feel important and useful again. Could Ellen ask that of her? Was it fair?
Kate wasn’t sure what Ellen’s silence meant, but the lack of conversation and the awkwardness spoke volumes. Maybe Ellen had nothing to say and was simply being polite by sitting there.
She probably had other things to do. She had that date tonight with Sandra; perhaps that was where she was really focused. The sex last night had been fantastic, and Kate had craved nothing more than to pull Ellen into her arms at the door and take her to bed. But she knew she wasn’t the only woman waiting for Ellen.
“So, when will you know?” Ellen asked, her voice catching in her throat. God, she couldn’t break down in front of Kate. Not now.
“I have to tell them tomorrow if I’m interested. Then it’s up to them as to when we’ll meet.”
Ellen nodded as though she were in a dream. Everything seemed to move so much slower. She cleared her throat and breathed deeply.
She had to be supportive. Kate was making tremendous strides in getting her life back on track. “Well, of course you must go talk to them, at the very least. It sounds like a wonderful opportunity, Kate.”
“Yeah, it is,” Kate agreed. There it was. Ellen wanted her to go, thought it was a good move. That was all she needed to hear or, rather, what she didn’t want to hear.
“Well, I’ve got some things to take care of before I tell Dean to call them. I haven’t updated my resume in years.” Ellen stood to leave. “Yes, you’d better get to it, then, and I should leave you alone. I’ve got a lot of work to do, too.”
“I guess you’ll need help, now that you’ve lost two assistants. Perhaps we can call a temp agency and they can find someone for you.”
Ellen grimaced. A temp agency could never replace Kate, in more ways than one. “Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head.
“I’ll work something out.” Every muscle screamed for her to stay.
What could she say, what could she do to not have Kate leave her?
Kate watched Ellen’s back as she headed for the door. If only she could touch her, make her understand how she felt. If she could make Ellen love her, want only her. She had never been in a monogamous relationship, hadn’t wanted to. It surprised her that she would want one now, with Ellen, but she knew it felt right. Ellen felt so good in her arms. She was so female, so sexy and desirable.
Ellen was all those things and something she couldn’t quite name.
She was simply Ellen. And Kate was attracted to everything about her. She wanted to know her, wanted to spend time with her. But as she moved past Ellen to open the door, Kate knew she had to take this job offer.
Ellen stopped and gazed up at Kate. She couldn’t read the look in her eyes, those deep, dark eyes that swirled with emotion. But she would never forgive herself if she didn’t touch her one last time. She cupped Kate’s chin, stroking the downy cheek with her thumb. Then with one last brave attempt, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the cheek, lingering for as long as she dared before she pulled away.
“See you later, Kate.” Her eyes burned as she stepped into the hallway.
Kate watched as Ellen entered her condo. A large lump in her throat hurt as she swallowed and leaned heavily against her door.
She would call Dean in the morning and tell him to go ahead with the CNN interview. She had no reason to stay in DC. She needed to get away, as far away from this city and Ellen as she could. London was the perfect solution.
Feeling suddenly reckless, she decided to visit an old favorite hangout down the street. The bar in the Childe Harold was close by, and the bartender knew what she liked to drink and didn’t talk to her.
Everything she liked in a bartender. If people wanted to stare at her, let them. She didn’t give a damn anymore.
❖
The Childe Harold was a two-story restaurant on Connecticut Avenue with the main dining room upstairs, the bar and some booths downstairs, and a few tables out front. Kate sat in the bar and, as expected, a shot of Chivas appeared magically before her.
She downed it in one swift gulp and had no sooner put the glass down than the bartender refilled it. She held up two fingers this time and he nodded.
After a couple of sips, she sat and watched the basketball game without really caring who was playing, let alone winning.
“I don’t believe my eyes.”
The familiarity of the voice caused Kate to swivel abruptly in her chair. “Sergei?”
A tall, well-built man in his mid-forties with a neatly trimmed beard approached her with arms open wide. He enveloped Kate in a crushing bear hug, then released her to hold her at arm’s length.
Unabashedly, he examined the scar on her face—not in shock, but with great interest. “It makes you look even more roguish than you did before,” he pronounced loudly.
Kate couldn’t help but grin. Sergei had made her feel at ease ever since they met in Moscow when Kate was on assignment for Reuters. Sergei worked as a reporter for a Russian television station.
He was interested in her photographer at the time and had taken them to his house, introducing her to Russian vodka. She wound up smashed and slept on the couch while the two men got to know one another more intimately.
“What the hell are you doing in DC?” she asked as he pulled out the stool next to her.
“I am looking to marry a handsome, young American and then get citizenship. What are you doing?”
“We haven’t gotten gay marriage approved yet, Sergei. But we’re working on it.”
“Ah,” he scoffed. “It will happen sooner or later. You Americans always get what you want eventually. In the meantime, I suppose I shall have to drown my sorrows in all the good-looking men in Dupont Circle. You know many of them, yes? You can introduce me?”
“I know some, yes. But seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Ketel One Vodka,” he told the bartender, then sat down. “We finally got approval to open a station here in Washington, and you are looking at the one and only reporter. I have a cameraman who is cute, but not a man—I think maybe your type. And a producer who is a drunk and got his job because his brother is connected in Moscow. Not exactly perfect, but at least I am here. I love everything American.” He took a large swallow of vodka. “Ahh, that is good. Let’s go upstairs later and have a big steak next. Now, what are you doing, Kate? I heard about your accident and the job, the bastards.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got a possibility with CNN in London. I found out about it today.”
He leaned back and looked at her, obviously impressed. “So you are celebrating alone?” He shook his head. “It is good that I came along to help out. Bartender, another round here.” He tossed b
ack his vodka and peered at Kate. “But you do not look so happy.” Kate averted her eyes, staring into her glass of amber liquid.
“It’s a good opportunity and all that, but…”
“But what?” he finally asked.
Kate struggled with her answer. “I’m not sure I want to leave DC…right now.”
“Why? Is there another opportunity?” Kate shook her head. “More like another person.” She watched as Sergei scrutinized her face and then understanding replaced his confusion.
“Could it be that the rogue Kate Foster is in love?” His brown eyes sparkled and the creases at the corners deepened.
Kate sipped her scotch and didn’t reply. She was miserable and in no mood to discuss her situation.
“And what is her name?”
“Ellen Webster.”
“And she must be sexy and smart to have caught the attention of the great Kate.” He grinned.
“Let’s not go there, okay, Sergei?” Kate sipped her drink.
“Okay. Let’s go get that steak.”
As he stood up his cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Da?” He listened for a minute, then slammed the phone shut. Kate waited until the Russian curses had subsided before asking him what the problem was.
“Mikhail, that idiot, that…I can’t think of the words in English that translate well. He’s our producer and he doesn’t know shit. I’m sorry, Kate, but I must go to the studio. Let’s get together again soon, okay? You owe me a steak.”
“Sure, no problem,” she said as he kissed her cheek, downed the few drops in his glass, and left.
Kate smiled, realizing Sergei had stuck her with the bill, again.
She left money on the bar and stepped out onto the street. Glancing up at the threatening sky, she heard thunder in the distance. She headed home, and as she entered the lobby of her building she was surprised to run into Ellen exiting the elevator, two bags of trash in her hands. She was clearly not dressed for her dinner out.
“Hey, I thought you’d be out with Sandra.” Kate took a bag from Ellen.
“Thanks,” Ellen murmured, embarrassed at being caught in her sweats. Cleaning house was a way of working through her sadness, but this time it hadn’t helped. “Dinner was cancelled.” Kate held the door for her as they headed out the back of their building and tossed the trash bags into the Dumpster. “Oh,” she replied.
“In fact, I cancelled Sandra altogether.” Kate’s step faltered. “Excuse me?”
“I realized Sandra wasn’t someone I was interested in long-term. There was no point in taking it any further.” They reentered the building and rode the elevator together in silence. Ellen could smell the alcohol on Kate and wondered if she had been drinking alone or with someone. When the elevator stopped on their floor, she thought she saw Kate grab the wall for support. She had obviously had a little too much to drink, so Ellen instinctively reached for her arm to steady her as she stepped out of the elevator.
Kate glanced down at Ellen’s hand on her arm. It burned where Ellen touched it, and Kate felt the sensation travel up her shoulder and spread throughout her body. She knew the alcohol hadn’t caused the feeling, because it hadn’t been there a moment ago. It was Ellen, all Ellen. She had that effect on her, and Kate leaned closer, aching for more. What was it Ellen had said out by the Dumpster? She wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship? Kate shook her head to clear her thinking. No, she said she wasn’t interested in Sandra long-term.
Did that mean she eventually wanted someone long-term?
“Well, here we are,” Ellen said as they approached Kate’s door.
She risked rubbing Kate’s arm with her thumb, luxuriating in the delectable skin. But what she really wanted was to slide her hand around Kate’s neck and pull her into a searing kiss. Instead, she simply let go.
“Ellen?” Kate called to Ellen’s retreating back.
Ellen swung around. Something in Kate’s eyes spoke more to Ellen than anything Kate could have said. It was pure want, and Ellen felt it rush through her body like a tidal wave, the undertow dragging her forward. She felt herself moving into Kate without conscious effort, as though the floor, instead of her own two feet, moved her. Suddenly they were in each other’s arms, and from that moment on she had no thought. It was all primal and raw, and even if she had wanted to stop, she couldn’t have. Somehow they were in Kate’s condo, and before she knew it, they were in bed, undressed, and Kate was inside her. She was all skin and wet and hot, and she didn’t know where her body ended and Kate’s began. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced and she never wanted it to end.
She felt the cataclysm in her body radiate outward and somehow, from some distant vantage point, knew that Kate too was coming against her, and they were one.
Ellen awoke in the dark, disoriented and for a moment unsure where she was. But the feel of Kate pressed into her back, her arm flung over Ellen’s hip, reassured her and she sighed contentedly.
What they had wasn’t just sex. She knew they had moved on to something much deeper. Now what the hell would she do? Kate was on her way to London and probably wouldn’t be back. Could she tell her not to go? Could she ask Kate to give it all away for a chance with her? If the situation was reversed, would Ellen give up her job for London? And just what was Kate thinking, what did she want?
Her head hurt from trying to find solutions so quickly.
“Are you awake?”
Ellen rolled over. “Yes.”
Kate’s hand slid up to Ellen’s waist and nestled in the deep curve.
“So you dumped Sandra, huh?”
Ellen struggled to keep the grin off her face. “Yes, I dumped her.”
“She didn’t deserve you.”
Kate’s hand danced lazily across Ellen’s belly, slowly finding its way downward. Ellen closed her eyes and luxuriated in the sensations that coursed through her. Unbelievably, she was ready again and opened to Kate without reservation.
Something shifted inside Kate. The emptiness, the black hole that had always existed within her evaporated, and the missing piece that belonged there filled it. She took a deep breath and felt… happy.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The interview in Atlanta had gone well, and the staff there wanted Kate to meet and talk with the people in London immediately so she could see the operation firsthand. She was nervous and excited but had a lingering sense of sadness. She knew it had to do with Ellen, because she couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She had returned home the previous night after being in Atlanta nearly a week, and hadn’t seen Ellen. She was anxious about leaving that evening for London and worried that she wouldn’t see Ellen before then. Ellen’s newspaper had resumed home delivery and had been picked up, so she knew Ellen was still home and not on the road. Perhaps she was avoiding her, which was just as well. Kate was never comfortable with good-byes, and even though she’d be returning in a couple of days, this time apart could very well be the precursor to a permanent relocation.
Downing the last of her scotch, she took one last look around, making sure she had turned all the lights and appliances off. If she did wind up moving, the condo would be the last thing she would miss about DC. It had never felt like home—more like a place to dump her stuff and sleep. She would miss Ellen, though. Something about Ellen’s space made her feel at home, but more important, something about Ellen made her feel at home.
She grabbed the handle of her Tumi luggage and wheeled it out into the hallway, tossing her other bag over her shoulder. After closing her door and locking it, she walked to Ellen’s and stopped, then knocked rapidly and waited for a response. When she didn’t get one, she pressed her ear closer, trying to hear any movement inside.
Finally, she gave up and reached into her bag for a notepad and pen.
She scribbled a quick note and slipped it under Ellen’s door, then pressed the elevator button. She was disappointed that she’d not seen Ellen before
she left, but she’d be back soon and maybe they could have dinner one night. Maybe, if the mood was right—a little wine, some jazz—Ellen might take her to bed one last time.
❖
Ellen trudged home from the dry cleaners, nearly two miles from home. Her car was in the shop having its fifty-thousand-mile checkup, and since she hadn’t taken it in until late in the day, it wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow. She supposed she could have called a cab, but it was such a pleasant evening, and she was determined to exercise more to accompany her diet. This time she was serious about losing weight.
She was about halfway home when her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID to see her sister’s cell number. “Hi, Joan,” she said, switching the dry cleaning to her other arm.
“Oh, Ellen,” Joan sobbed into the phone.
“What on earth is wrong?” Ellen was instantly on alert. She hadn’t heard her sister cry like that since they were kids.
“It’s Dad. Ellen, you have to come now.” She broke into tears again.
Ellen’s heart momentarily stopped beating and she leaned against a streetlight for support. “What happened, Joan? What’s going on? Talk to me, dammit.”
She could hear her sister blowing her nose into a handkerchief and sniffling before she returned to the phone.
“He collapsed a little while ago. The ambulance is taking him to Inova Hospital, and I’m driving Mom there now. You’ve got to hurry!”
The pain in Ellen’s chest was almost too much, but she needed to calm Joan. “Okay, I’ll get there as soon as I can. But you need to pull yourself together, if not for your sake, at least for Mom’s. Who’s in the car with you?”
“Me, Mom, and the kids. Robert is in Chicago.” She blew her nose again.
“Shit,” Ellen murmured, trying to figure out what to do.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. My car’s in the shop, that’s all. But don’t worry. I’ll call a friend and either borrow her car or have her drive me. I’ll get there as quick as I can.”