Chapter 1
Another martini wouldn't hurt, would it? To drown out the raucous, incessant thoughts that kept flickering through her mind at a rapidly increasing pace. The fear behind it, the uncertainty, the shock of what it would truly mean.
So she was at the bar. Because she certainly couldn't be at home, not feeling like this, not with these thoughts circling in her mind. Because if Grace Hanson was anything it was not transparent and right now she felt impossibly see-through. Like her outsides were on display and she was vulnerable and Grace hated vulnerability. Something she seemed altogether too good at most times. Well, she could always detect it within her and then she would demand to know what it was that was on her mind and Grace, herself, could hardly tell what was on her mind.
She caught glimpses of it, bubbling up to the surface with intense clarity, surprisingly intense clarity, and then she would bury her lips in the burning vodka of her drink and wash it all away, back down to the hidden depths.
There had to be another explanation. They had gotten close, certainly, over the past couple of years. Of living side-by-side, sharing everything, their nightly routine, their business, their mornings, their afternoons…unless Jacob was there.
Grace gulped down another sip, hitting the bottom.
No, it wasn't right. Surely her mind had gone in the wrong direction and perhaps she could blame Robert because Robert had disrupted nature when he declared his love for Sol. It couldn't be that she, too, was a disrupter of nature. She was a society women – or had been until that had slipped through her fingers.
Well then what was she? Certainly she wasn't like Robert and Sol. That would be too poetic almost, too passé, cliché even.
If she thought back long enough, hard enough, she could see the one lone incident. At school. Her mind could barely close the gap between the present moment and that forever ago incident. A kiss. Soft, gentle, a joke on Jocelyn's part, but something so much more for Grace. She'd stuffed it away, traded it in, ran away from it for the comfort of Robert's half-hearted love. She could see it now, the years flying by in her mind as she put truth to each moment. The nights spent alone, the painful, unpleasant times of trying and conceiving Brianna and Mallory. It was like she had to trick Robert into it, coerce him, and then it was more a duty than a pleasure. It had not been until moving in with her that she had even found pleasure in any of it.
Never mind where her mind had wandered the day they'd gotten the prototype vibrator.
Grace groaned, about to wave down the bartender again for another drink. These thoughts were not pleasant.
"Hello there." The voice startled Grace, forcing her to turn in her seat away from the bartender. The words were so close that she knew they were intended for her, though the voice took her by surprise. "Mind if I buy you a drink?"
Grace's eyes could only register the slinky black material that hugged at the curve of a hip, rounded inwards at a waist, the supple hint of breasts, a lightly tanned arm, the fall of deep brunette hair over the shoulder, eyes so intense that Grace could barely look them straight on. This was unfamiliar territory.
"I don't know if I should," she moved with efficient ease then, collecting up her purse, but the hand on her arm stopped her mid-movement.
"I won't bite," the woman laughed, her voice like honey. "Vodka martini I suppose?" And before Grace could protest she had waved down the bartender who had two martinis placed before them in a matter of seconds, as if this woman were a witch and could make anything appear or disappear with the snap of a perfectly manicured finger.
"I couldn't help but notice you sitting here alone. I hope you don't mind the intrusion. You just had this…this look about you." The woman had made herself at home in the seat beside Grace. Her eyes so intensely focused upon her as she spoke. There was a warmth about her, though, a kindness that made Grace's heart pound ever so slightly less.
"A look, hmm?" Grace buried her lips in the glass, fearful.
"Like maybe you needed a friend."
"I seem to have one of those." Grace laughed to herself tersely.
"You are a very striking woman, has anyone ever told you that?"
Grace nearly spat the sip of the martini she had just taken. The words too close to home. "I've heard it before, yes." Grace turned to this mystery woman, looking her over, accessing her again. She could hardly be a day over forty. She was a baby, a child nearly. What was it she wanted?
"My name's Allison." She extended her hand gracefully over the bar for Grace to take. Perhaps she was fifty, now that Grace could see her better in the light.
"Grace," Grace took her hand in return, her stomach knotting when their skin touched.
"Mmm, Grace. Beautiful, elegant." Allison released her hand and returned to her drink.
"What is it you want from me exactly?" Grace audaciously decided to cut to the chase, because she had never been good at mystery and intrigue. She had also learned that not speaking about something tended to result in too much mess and confusion. Resulted in years spent with the wrong man, spent living with a friend whom you had too many thoughts about.
Allison laughed, "nothing but to share a drink with you. I can't imagine you would be at all interested in me, but I must say I was intrigued when I saw you sitting her alone ignoring that lingering look of that tall and handsome gentleman over there." Allison nodded with her head and Grace found her eyes betraying her before she could help herself. There was a rather tanned gentleman with that look in his eyes. She could not deny his interest, and yet she had not noticed him.
"I imagine you've just gone through a break up, or you're pining over someone." Allison intuitively guessed.
"You're rather perceptive, aren't you?" Grace sighed. "And what is it you mean by not interested? You seem like a beautiful woman who could have any guy in this room and who has a firm hold on who she is. I like that in women."
Allison's eyebrow rose, "maybe you're more interesting than I thought, Grace." It felt then as if Allison's body moved in ever so slightly more, as if they were alone in this room together. An intimacy grew and flourished.
Grace had to be misreading the situation. She shrugged and sipped her drink to put some distance back, to build back a shattered wall.
"It's always hard for me to know. I have shit luck when it comes to meeting people I am actually interested in." Allison swirled the martini glass between her fingers.
"Perhaps tall dark and handsome was interested in you." Grace spoke without looking up from the clear surface of her drink.
"He's not of interest to me. There was someone else here that I found more to my liking."
"How about that." Grace could not deny it any longer. She was not in high school anymore trying to guess if John liked Jane or if Evelyn liked Steve. This was an adult conversation and she felt fragile, yet with interest piqued. "Perhaps that person might have found someone to her liking as well." Grace picked up the martini and drank down the rest of its contents, cursing herself for having such a horrible habit.
"Well, perhaps my radar actually served me well this evening." Allison's burgundy fingernails slid lithely over Grace's hand, sending a chill through her.
Oh God. Was this what Grace thought it was? Had that really just happened? Was that intense gaze meant for her?
"I sense that you're new to all of this." Allison removed her grazing fingertips, picking up her drink with a cool calmness.
"I've never…" Grace could hardly finish the sentence, let alone the thought. Fucked a woman? Fell in love with a woman? Thought about a woman that way?
But all of that wasn't true.
Allison smiled, "I'm not pressuring you into anything, am I?"
"No, not at all." Grace felt her pull away and instantly she wanted it, more than she had ever wanted anything before. If she couldn't have her than perhaps this was the perfect solution. A way to test the waters, to know for a fact that Grace Hanson was (or was not) in fact capable of relations with a woman. "If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting we certainly can't go to my place." Grace spoke with more gusto than she felt.
Allison chuckled beside her. "No need to rush it along, though I wouldn't mind taking you home with me for a nice bottle of wine, or perhaps some tea to clear our heads?" The offer was genuine and something about it felt comfortable. Going home didn't seem to be a clear option so this was the next best idea to a bar. Yes, home with this enticing younger woman to her spacious fifteenth floor apartment covered in windows and all the modern appliances and décor of a city gal who would enjoy a nice breakfast and a cup of tea atop the greyish – white couch wrapped up in a soft fur blanket after a morning workout. This was the life Grace ascribed to her as they entered into the luxurious, near hotel-esque condo.
Grace felt her palms were sweaty, her bearings completely off. Had she lost her mind? She'd allowed herself to actually go home with a complete stranger?
Allison turned and smiled at her though, a comforting smile, and Grace could only smile back. It appeared, then, that Allison was so very near in that instant. Had they been standing this close? Grace clung to her purse a little tighter, her body feeling lightweight and fluttery. There was an excitement about it, an anticipation that Grace had never yet felt before in her life. How could she have gone nearly 80 years without feeling this?
Allison's fingertips caressed her cheeks, her body stepping closer, those eyes searching Grace's face for the okay.
She was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been, but there was a warmth about the moment, about how gentle Allison was as she caressed her gently. Grace's hands moved of their own accord, her fingers lightly covering the soft fabric at Allison's sides.
"I want to kiss you, is that alright?" Allison's thumb brushed lightly over Grace's lips.
Why else had she brought her here? Why else had Grace followed her?
Grace pulled with her fingers, finding flesh beneath the black garment. Allison's lips were on hers in a matter of seconds, warm and soft, firm. The kiss lingered, elongated, made Grace dizzy with a rich sexual need. "Oh God," she whispered against Allison.
Allison's lips explored the curve of her chin, the soft, tender flesh of her neck, the nape of her neck. No one had ever kissed her this way before in her life. Her first kiss from Jocelyn had been inconsequential compared to Allison's lips. Robert was a distant, long forgotten memory. All that mattered was what these divine lips were doing to her.
Allison chuckled under her breath. "Shall I get you a cup of tea?" She held herself back, the contact immediately missed.
Grace was panting, her breathing erratic. Why would she want tea? At a time like this? Slow down, girl. Grace thought to herself. Yes, tea would be good. Tea would get her head on straight and maybe she could go home and forget this happened. "I would like that." Grace nodded, her hands retracted, moved to her sides.
Allison pulled off her heels, settled her bag on a side table and swept into the kitchen to start a kettle. Grace followed suit, for what else could she do? Apart from leaving like a sane person. But something pulled her forward, pulled her into the kitchen, to watch as Allison stood with her hip up against the counter, their eyes locked. "You're a wonderful kisser." Allison grinned, reaching out her hand for Grace who found herself drawn forward from her awkward position at the entranceway to the kitchen. This was not her home and she did not know how to behave, but Allison made her feel comfortable. And as her arm slid about her, Grace leaned up – for now without heels Allison was a good bit taller than she – and their lips found one another again and again.
The tea kettle clicked off and Allison moved to gather tea cups and opened her tea cabinet. "I would recommend the rooibos or the vanilla, though perhaps you're more a mint girl."
"The vanilla tea sounds nice." Grace shrugged.
"Vanilla, hmm." Allison smiled to herself as she pulled two packets from the vanilla tea box. "I'm not sure much about you is vanilla."
"And what does that mean?" Grace shot back.
Allison turned, "I didn't mean to offend you."
Grace sighed, "you didn't." She took the cup graciously. "I just suppose I wish I were more vanilla."
Allison sipped her tea and regarded Grace, "why don't we go sit in the living room." She wrapped her arm about Grace, her hand at the small of her back guiding her down several steps into the spotless lounge spot overlooking all of the city.
"It's beautiful." Grace whispered, overcome by the view, what it was she was doing, where she was.
"Yes, it is." Though Allison's eyes were on her.
They sat side-by-side, leg-to-leg, Allison's arm stretched out behind Grace as if they had always sat this way, so very close beside one another.
Grace peered down into the depths of the dark tea, her mind circling, reeling in the silence. "I suppose you know I've never done this before."
"That's why I'm going slow, my dear." Allison laughed.
"I like this." Grace smiled at her and Allison leaned in to kiss her.
"What was bothering you before?" Allison inquired, her tone suddenly a bit darker, her curiosity getting the best of her.
Grace sighed and leaned back against the couch. It was a very comfortable couch. The room was very comfortable, yet sparse. She knew that she would never be able to keep such an immaculate house and suddenly Grace felt she liked Allison a whole lot.
And then she thought of her again and why she had been at the bar in the first place. What to tell Allison? She didn't want her to think she didn't want this because she most certainly did want this.
"Trouble with a friend." She decided would be safe.
"Ah, I see. A friend." Allison nodded.
"Now see, it's not like that." Grace pointed her finger, beginning to come out of her protective shell a little bit more, daring to lightly drop her fingers against that oh-so-soft material encasing the body of the woman beside her. Allison's hand captured hers, pressing it against her thigh.
"Of course it's not." Allison didn't seem convinced.
"I don't want to talk about it." Grace insisted, allowing their fingers to entwine atop Allison's leg.
"That's why you didn't want us to go to your place earlier? You have someone at home?" Allison guessed.
Grace couldn't begin to tell Allison about it. "Not a man, if that's what you're thinking. Oh no, my ex-husband left me for her husband. Isn't that hilarious?"
"Who is 'her'?" Damn. What had Grace said now?
"Oh, my-" What was she to her? Roommate? Friend? Business partner? Love interest? God. "Must we really talk about this?"
"I wouldn't mind not talking," Allison slipped the tea cup from Grace's hand and turned to face her, lips covering hers again as fingers found their way to the button-up top that clad Grace's torso. One perfectly manicured hand found its way delightfully beneath the wire of her bra and brushed her nipple with a gentle thumb. She flinched, surprised and delighted by the sensation.
"Take me to bed," Grace whispered.