Bronwyn hesitated. “I know this is a lot to ask, and you certainly don’t have to do it.” Bronwyn turned and spoke into Jaq’s neck, her fingertips slipping under her shirt and over her abs. “I mean, even I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, but it just sounds like she’s going to be in exceptionally bad form, and—”
Jaq put her finger on Bronwyn’s lips. “Of course I’ll go with you.”
Bronwyn climbed over into Jaq’s lap and hugged her hard. “Brilliant, thank Christ. I just can’t face her alone this time. I’ve been dreading this moment since I was sixteen.”
Jaq slid her hands around Bronwyn’s ass and pulled her close. “You thought about coming out to your mom way back then?”
“Yep, and if she hadn’t intercepted our mail, I would have eventually. I think she knew that.”
“So,” Jaq said, her eyes teasing, “Where is this brunch and will your mother be armed?”
Bronwyn sighed. “It’s at the Duck and Waffle on Bishopsgate; and no she won’t, but you might want to consider it.”
Jaq took Bronwyn’s hand and put it low on her hip.
“Jesus, you are armed.” She bent down to get a closer look. “How did I miss that?”
Jaq laughed. “I’m from Texas. I wear it well.”
Bronwyn untucked the rest of Jaq’s shirt and ran her hands up the inside and across her nipples. Jaq’s breath caught, and she tightened her hands around Bronwyn’s hips. “It’s sexy,” she whispered, her words warm against Jaq’s neck. “I like it.”
Jaq’s phone rang next, just as she’d opened every snap on Bronwyn’s shirt with one flick of her wrist.
Jaq looked at it and had to laugh. She held it up to Bronwyn.
“My father now? Seriously?” She rolled her eyes and reluctantly got up from the couch. “I’m going to run a bath. Good luck with that.”
Jaq waited until she’d rounded the corner to click the green answer button. “Good evening, Mr. Charles, this is Jaq.”
“Hello, Jaq,” he said, pausing before he went on. “Is my daughter around, by chance?”
Jaq looked back toward the hall. “No, she’s gone to run a bath, but I could bring the phone to her, if you’d like.”
“No, I called to speak to you, actually; I just thought we’d be able to talk more easily if she wasn’t around.”
“Of course.”
“First of all, I admire the professionalism you showed in not making me aware of what’s happening with Bronwyn and Ian. I know your hands were tied.”
“I appreciate that,” Jaq said, hoping the relief she felt didn’t show in her voice. She’d been worried Bronwyn’s father would be upset she hadn’t contacted him, but ethically, there was just no way around it. “If I’d had a choice, I’d have told you right away, but I’m glad you’ve been made aware of the situation now.”
“Bertrand Roundtree is the Chief Superintendent at Scotland Yard; we went to university together and have been friends for forty years, so he gave me a call today after speaking to Terry.”
“I’m glad he did.”
Mr. Charles paused. “I never liked Ian, and that’s putting it mildly. I’m calling you to let you know he’s been in touch with Bronwyn’s mother. I don’t know what they’ve spoken about, and as far as I know, she’s unaware of any police involvement, but I did want you to know they’ve been speaking for the last few days.”
“Thank you; that’s good information to know.”
“I’ll leave it at that,” Angus Charles said, clearing his throat, “But Terry mentioned that Bronwyn is staying with you, which eases my mind. Thank you for looking after her.”
“Of course, sir.” Jaq hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I feel the same about Bronwyn now as I did when we first spoke at the pub.”
“I was hoping that was the case. Please let me know if I can help in any way.”
Jaq smiled. “Of course, sir.”
“One more thing?” He paused before he went on, and when he spoke, Jaq could hear the smile on his face. “I think it’s about time you started calling me Angus, don’t you?”
****
The next morning, a wide beam of sunlight streamed through the window and fell across Bronwyn’s face, warming her cheek enough to wake her. She wrapped herself in the sheet and wandered into the kitchen, wordlessly accepting the mug Jaq offered her. She was already on the phone with someone from work, her hand flying across the page, writing into a yellow notebook.
She hung up soon after and walked over to Bronwyn, lifting her onto the counter and kissing her, pulling Bronwyn’s hips against hers. “You look amazing in a sheet, Bella.”
Bronwyn wrapped her legs around Jaq’s waist and let the top of the sheet fall to her waist. “Let’s go back to bed,” she whispered, leaning into her neck and running her tongue along the edge of her ear.
Jaq reluctantly glanced at the clock on the wall. “Unfortunately, it’s already ten-thirty. When do we have to meet your mom?”
Bronwyn dropped her head onto Jaq’s chest. “I forgot about brunch. Can’t we just skip it?”
Jaq picked her up and set her back on the floor. “Shower first, baby. Then I’ll bring you home after brunch and we can do anything you want.”
“Will you at least get in with me?” Bronwyn’s lower lip made an appearance and Jaq surrendered. Five minutes later, they were standing under the water, Jaq’s hands sliding across her breasts, kissing down her neck and turning her slowly to face the wall, the water falling like warm rain between their bodies.
“Lean forward and put your hands on the wall for me, Bella.”
Jaq’s words were soft and powerful against her ear and Bronwyn placed her hands against the slate wall. Jaq pulled Bronwyn’s hips against hers and rested one hand gently between her shoulder blades. The other she moved down between them, two of her fingers sliding into Bronwyn and finding the sensitive spot she knew would be directly under her fingertips.
Bronwyn moaned and pushed back against Jaq’s hand. Jaq kept her where she was, whispering in her ear, stroking until she felt her swell and throb beneath her fingers, then used a bit more pressure until she moaned, her voice deeper than Jaq had ever heard it, whispering for her not to stop. Jaq kept her face next to Bronwyn’s until her breath told her she was close, then reached around with her other hand and slicked her fingers firmly across her clit in the same rhythm. Bronwyn held her breath, her forehead pressed against the slate, the muscles of her back tense, pressing back against Jaq’s fingers as she started to come hard against both of her hands, her orgasm longer and deeper because of where Jaq was inside her. Her knees finally started to tremble and Jaq caught her on her way to the floor. She lifted Bronwyn back into her arms, holding her until her breath slowed, softly kissing her forehead.
“Remember that, baby.”
Bronwyn looked up at her, eyes still soft with the last of her climax. “Remember what?”
“Remember how you felt just now when your mom is staring you down.”
Bronwyn smiled, wrapping her arms around Jaq’s neck as she lifted her again and backed her up against the wall.
****
The Duck and Waffle restaurant was a brunch staple for the visibly rich in central London, and one of Mrs. Charles’ favorite places to be seen. The dining room only accommodated eighteen people and the restaurant was located on the fortieth floor of the building, giving the lucky few inside the sensation of being suspended in the sky.
“I’m sorry we’re late, Mum,” Bronwyn said as they walked up behind her at the table, her mother’s face falling into stone as she realized her daughter had arrived with Jaq Bailey.
Bronwyn gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and Jaq extended her hand. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Charles. You look well.”
She ignored Jaq completely and sat, locking her eyes onto her daughter. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a guest.”
Bronwyn took a deep breath. “Jaq is here because I asked her to come. Please try to be
polite.”
The waiter came and somehow managed to pour the coffee through the tension so thick it hung like fog between them. He offered Bronwyn a glass of prosecco, but she just shook her head. Mrs. Charles ordered a double vodka on the rocks, handing him her empty glass to take away.
“I don’t like what I’ve been hearing, Bronwyn.” Her mother smoothed her hands over her hair and locked eyes with her daughter. “Whatever childish game you think you’re playing needs to stop. Your wedding to Ian is in seven weeks, and if you keep this up, you’re going to lose your only chance at a normal life.” She didn’t look at Jaq, but she didn’t have to.
Bronwyn visibly steeled herself as Mrs. Charles’ double vodka appeared at the table. Jaq added cream and sugar to her own coffee and switched it with Bronwyn’s. Bronwyn smiled and squeezed Jaq’s hand under the table, which did not escape the attention of her mother. She shook her head and glared across at Bronwyn, picking up where she’d left off.
“…And to tell that poor man over the phone that you were breaking off the engagement was just unforgivable.”
Bronwyn’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know I broke up with him over the phone?”
Mrs. Charles looked around them briefly and lowered her voice to almost a whisper.
“Honestly, Bronwyn, after everything he’s done for you, too. You were a lot to take on, what with the rumors still flying around about you.” She paused to give Jaq a pointed stare. “Frankly, I was surprised a man of Ian’s caliber was even interested in you. Everyone was.”
Jaq saw Bronwyn’s shoulders slump beside her and it was all she could do to keep her mouth shut. She covered Bronwyn’s cold hand with her own and squeezed it, keeping it there to warm her fingers.
Bronwyn’s mother clinked the ice against the sides of her glass, clearly warming to her own words. “I finally felt like the embarrassment you put me through when you were expelled from Stratford was coming to a close.”
“Mother, I was not expelled from Stratford. You lied to me and forced me to withdraw.”
The menus arrived as well as another drink for Mrs. Charles, who turned an icy glare in Jaq’s direction as soon as the waiter stepped away.
“Is that what you’ve been telling her? To cover up the fact that you ruined my daughter’s life?”
Jaq didn’t reply but she didn’t look away, either.
Bronwyn took a deep breath and did her best to remain calm. “Mother, I’m not sixteen anymore. I’m an adult. What you did is obvious; it has nothing to do with Jaq.”
Jaq watched Bronwyn’s mother as she drained her second double vodka in twenty minutes. She was willing to bet that the empty glass on the table when they’d arrived had contained the same thing, and the sudden sense of deja vu made her nauseous.
“And after all that,” she said, her volume rising as she started to slur her words at the edges, “You turn up to a civilized brunch with this he/she and expect me to welcome you with open arms? I said this to Ian yesterday, and I meant it; I’m very disappointed in how you’ve turned out, Bronwyn.”
Bronwyn leaned toward her mother and looked her dead in the eye, her voice as hard as steel. “Don’t ever speak that way to my girlfriend again.”
Her mother stifled a laugh. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“No, Mother, that’s what she is.” Bronwyn kept her voice down, and Jaq knew that in spite of her mother’s cruelty, Bronwyn was still doing her best not to embarrass her. “You forced us apart twelve years ago and I’ve spent every day since in love with someone you made me believe never felt the same way. I’m not going to let you do that again.” Bronwyn’s voice broke and she swiped at a tear on her cheek. “If you want a relationship with me, you’ll have to accept that I’m gay and treat the person I love with the respect she deserves.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Bronwyn spotted two senior men a few tables over. They’d apparently heard what was happening; everyone had. They both held her with soft eyes, intensely kind, one of them giving her an almost imperceptible nod of support. Bronwyn suddenly felt not quite so alone and raised her chin just a touch as she gathered her coat and stood beside the table with Jaq, giving her mother a chance to reply.
Mrs. Charles stood, unsteady on her feet and suddenly very aware the entire restaurant was silently watching them, including their waiter, who’d stopped in the center of the dining room, unsure whether to stay or go. Bronwyn’s mother glared at her daughter and brought her hand back to slap her so quickly Bronwyn didn’t realize what was happening.
Jaq caught her wrist instantly and stared her down, her face just inches from hers. “Sit down, Mrs. Charles.”
Surprisingly, she sat, just as her next drink was delivered. As she picked it up, Jaq reached into the bag at her feet and took her keys.
“I’m going to call you a cab that will be outside the main door in fifteen minutes,” Jaq said, her voice firm and even. “Then, if at some point you sober up in the future, you’ll need to apologize to your daughter.” She picked up her jacket from the chair. “But don’t ever even think about hitting Bronwyn again.”
Jaq took Bronwyn’s hand and they walked out the door and back onto the busy London sidewalk.
Chapter Thirteen
As soon as she’d called the cab and they were out of sight of the restaurant, Jaq pulled Bronwyn into an alley and wrapped her arms around her. Bronwyn was silent, in shock until Jaq kissed her, and she started to cry.
“I can’t believe she was going to slap me.”
Jaq pulled her back into her arms. She knew that feeling. “I would never let that happen, baby.”
“I know,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It’s just that she intended to. In front of all those people.”
“She’d had quite a bit to drink, Bella. I don’t think that was necessarily how she would have reacted if she was sober.”
Bronwyn took a deep breath and stepped back suddenly, covering her mouth with her hands. “I can’t believe I embarrassed myself like that. It’s like I totally forgot we were in public.”
“What do you have to be embarrassed about?” Jaq said. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen someone do.”
Bronwyn wiped a tear off her cheek and attempted to rescue a bit of her eye makeup. “Really?”
“Are you kidding?” Jaq tried not to smile at the memory. “You stepped up and owned that situation, Bella. No one’s ever stood up for me like that.”
Bronwyn sank back into her arms.
Jaq smiled down at her. “Did you mean it?”
Bronwyn raised an eyebrow.
“That you’re my girlfriend again?”
Bronwyn stood on tiptoe and kissed her. “I think that’s a done deal, Bailey.”
****
As they climbed into a cab to go home a few minutes later, Jaq remembered she needed to stop by the office and grab a file she’d forgotten on her way out the door Friday evening.
“Do you mind if we stop by the Yard so I can grab the financials on Ian’s case?”
“That’s great, actually,” she said. “I’ve been dying to see where you work.”
Jaq gave the cab driver the new address and he dropped them off at the door a few minutes later. Jaq punched in the security code for the main doors, then scanned her fingerprint. There were a few people working, but most of the detectives were gone. As they walked to her office, Bronwyn stopped in the hall and pointed at an open door.
“Isn’t that Terry?”
It was indeed Terry, who was at his desk, tapping his forehead against the surface, audibly muttering to himself.
Jaq stared. “I don’t know whether I should take a picture or call the mental health hotline.”
“What’s the matter with him?’
“I don’t know,” she said, trying not to laugh, “But we should find out.” Jaq knocked lightly on the doorframe of his office. “You okay, boss?”
Terry raised his head and ran his hands through his already unruly red hair, ef
fectively standing most of it on end. “I just looked at the calendar.”
“…And?”
“It’s the twenty-seventh, my wedding anniversary. The very same date I forgot last year.”
“Oh no.” This from Bronwyn, standing by Jaq at the door. “That’s not good.”
Terry just shook his head. “She’s going to kill me. I told her ages ago I’d come up with something special for tonight, which of course is impossible now. None of the nice restaurants will have open tables on a Saturday, and that’s what she loves the most.” Terry paused, searching for the word. “She’s one of those people who watch food shows all the time and run around trying new restaurants.”
Bronwyn nodded. “A foodie.”
Terry snapped his fingers. “That’s it.”
Bronwyn glanced at her phone. “Will you two excuse me for just a moment?”
Terry nodded and Bronwyn walked a few paces away, the phone already to her ear.
“Okay, restaurants may be out, but what about presents? Is there anything you know she wants that you can get this afternoon before she expects you home?”
“Bugger,” Terry said, shaking his head. “This is when it would have been handy to actually listen to her every once in a while.”
Bronwyn almost made it back to the office, then got another call and stepped away, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Jaq.
“What about a holiday booking?” Jaq said, turning back to Terry. “You still have a few hours; you might be able to make it look like you planned it all in advance.”
“She’ll see right through me. She always knows when I’m lying.” He leaned back in his chair, head in his hands. “I’m screwed. At least I won’t have to remember it next year after she leaves me tomorrow.”
Bronwyn finally made it back to the office a few minutes later and handed Terry a small notecard with a handwritten address on it. At the bottom, she’d written ‘8pm’ and underlined it.
15 WESTLAND PLACE
LONDON N1 7LP
T. 020 3375 1515
London Page 15