Hello, all! Thank you for your patience with me over the past month. With my surgery, work, and the resumption of classes, there hasn't been much time or energy for writing. I thought we could all use something nice, light, and soothing after Chapter 10's intense emotional push. Bogotá Blackberry and Fire Island Red are both nail colors made by Opi, my favorite polish company.
Chapter 11
Mina put down her toothbrush and stepped into the shower stall, enjoying the feel of the hot water cascading over her body. The water pressure back in her little tiny house, out in the suburbs of Jersey, had never been as nice as this. Of course, there was really no comparison between her home and the immense suites of New York City's Plaza Hotel; there, the bathroom was tiny and cramped, with wallpaper that needed replacing and mildew that crept up the walls of the shower despite her intensive weekly attempts at scrubbing it. Here, the bathroom was an immaculate wealth of peaceful sea-green paint and white tiles. Cheerful young ferns sat on the windowsill and there were soft bathmats that her feet sank into. The bathmats, for heaven's sake! The appliances gleamed, and the towels were soft and plush.
She smiled as she mused over the differences. And Serena's new patron (and more then that, she hoped, for she hadn't missed the way her sister and Darien Chiba had looked at each other the night before) had paid for it all! One of his employees, Lita Roberts, had called her only the week before, and invited her to visit, all expenses paid, for the weekend of Serena's exhibit as a surprise for the artist. Roberts had booked her first-class tickets, and she had been met at the airport by a liveried chauffer. Things had only gotten better after that. She had been provided with a beautiful outfit –silk shantung, which she had always loved and coveted, but never been able to afford- and an appointment with a hairstylist for the evening's event. She had felt wonderful and elegant. As for the event itself, well, it had brought tears to Mina's eyes. After all that Serena had been through, it was about time that the world recognized how much talent she had.
And then, Serena had introduced her to Malachite.
The rest of the evening had been a blur. She was sure that she remembered admiring all of Serena's beautiful glass, sipping champagne, and chatting with other guests, including that gossipy writer from some artsy paper who wanted to know all of the intimate details of Serena's life…
But she had eyes only for Malachite, and he had returned the interest.
He had insisted on driving her back to the hotel himself, on escorting her up to her suite. It had only seemed natural and right that she invite him in for coffee. They had sat together on a low couch and talked for what seemed like hours, about work –his and hers-, about Serena, and about the differences between New York City and Atlantic City, New Jersey, where she worked. When a clock somewhere in the suite had struck three o'clock in the morning, Malachite had risen, a guilty expression on his face. "I'm terribly sorry; I didn't realize how late it was. I should go, and let you sleep; you must be exhausted."
But she had interrupted his apologies, catching his hand between here own. "I'd rather you stayed…"
After that, there was no need for words. They hadn't even made it to her bedroom, but made love right there on the floor, with its wonderful thick carpet that was as good, and a soft, as a comforter. Malachite had been strong, sweet, passionate, tender . . . everything she could possibly want in a lover. Eventually, once they had regained their strength, he had picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, where they had repeated their previous performance over and over again. And then they had slept, to awaken in the morning feeling gloriously refreshed.
Now, as she thought over her actions of the night before, Mina felt no regret, no remorse. When people had mentioned love at first sight to her before, she had laughed at the idea. It was a pretty fairy tale, but nothing more. But now . . .
She loved Malachite. And though they had not said the words to each other, she knew, she felt, deep in her bones, that he loved her, too.
"Mina?" His voice, so smooth and cultured, floated through the closed bathroom door as she lathered conditioner into her hair. She had to strain a bit to hear him over the thunder of the shower. "Mina, the coffee is ready and I ordered breakfast. It was just delivered."
"Thanks!" she called. "I'll be out in a minute." She smiled. There was no discomfort between the two of them this morning. And why should there be? She rinsed the conditioner out and twisted the shower nozzle to "off," then stepped out and grabbed a towel. Wrapping her body in a white terry-cloth robe provided by the hotel and her shoulder-length blond hair in the towel, she walked out into the main room of the suite.
Malachite smiled at her from where he sat at the breakfast table. He wore the same suit from last night, sans coat, and had somehow managed to get the wrinkles out of the thin wool. With his silver mane combed smoothly back from his face, tie fastened perfectly at his collar, he looked much too suave for a man who had just recently woken up from a night of unplanned-but-all-too-wonderful sex. He held a coffee cup in one hand and the New York Times in the other. "Good morning." He stood and pulled out a chair for her. "I hope an omelet was all right? I wasn't quite sure what you'd want for breakfast." He dropped a kiss on her cheek as she sat down.
"Sounds good. Serena's the one with the enormous sweet tooth, but I prefer a reasonable start to my day." Mina watched him as he poured her coffee; cream and sugar, just the way she liked it. He remembered from last night.
Malachite chuckled. "I have to agree with you. Darien has told me about your sister's penchant for Belgian waffles, smothered in whipped cream. I confess that so much sugar makes me want to cringe."
"You? Never." Mina laughed in return. "You're far to polite to do something like that. You'd just smile at her graciously and offer a second helping, which she would, of course, accept."
Malachite shrugged. "What can I say? You certainly have me pinned." He glanced at his watch, and grimaced. "I hate to rush you, but I really should run home and change before I go to the office, and you, I believe, are having lunch with your sister in an hour."
Mina glanced at the clock. "You're right. How did you know that?"
He smiled. "Juggling details is my favorite part of the job."
She chuckled. "I'll bet you drive Serena crazy. Gifted, yes, but punctuality is not one of my little sister's finer points." With that, she dug into her eggs, comfortable to let silence reign for the rest of their meal.
***
"Mina!" Serena rose from the table where she waited and greeted her sibling with an enormous hug and a jubilant squeal.
Mina laughed. "Slow down, sis!" After returning the hug, she stepped back and studied Serena. There was a sparkle in her eye, an easiness, a happiness, which had not been there the night before. Could it be?
"Someone looks awfully . . . relaxed," she murmured, just loud enough for Serena to hear. "Could it have anything to do with one particular tall, dark, and incredibly handsome gallery owner?"
Serena flushed and grinned. "C'mon, Mina! You know I never kiss and tell." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Besides, you look pretty relaxed yourself, and I happen to know that charming Mr. Wilns insisted on personally escorting you back to your hotel…" She allowed her voice to trail off in a suggestive manner, and watched gleefully as her big sister, always cool and in control, blushed as darkly as she herself just had.
Mina studied the table for a moment. Finally, she looked up, her expression quiet and deadly serious. "I love him, Sere."
"What?!" Serena had to reach out and grab the table edge before she sent herself over backwards in the chair. Once she regained her balance, she stared at Mina. Delight warred with absolute shock, leaving her speechless.
Mina smiled, a small, tight, but decidedly satisfied smile. "I know. I only met him last night. But I know, Serena. And I know what you're going to say. It's been a while since I've seen anyone-"
Serena overcame her momentary speechlessness. "It's been years, Minns, and you damn well know it. You gave up any hope of a social life to take care of me, and I know for a fact that you haven't dated since I moved out." But she studied the expression on her sister's face, the look in her blue eyes. It was a look she had never seen there before, and it melted her resistance and shock. "You really do, don't you." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah." Mina took a deep breath, and let it out in a whoosh. "Yeah, I do."
Serena grinned. "Shouldn't we be ordering champagne or something?" She reached across the table and squeezed one hand tightly. "He's a good man, and he had that same star-struck look in his eyes last night. He'll make you happy."
Mina's little smile grew into the real thing, and she cocked her head. "Speaking of, shouldn't we be celebrating a similar little occasion in your own life?"
Now it was Serena's turn to smile quietly. "I don't really know what I feel for Darien. He stayed with me last night, and it was wonderful." She was silent as a smartly dressed waiter delivered their drinks and took their orders, but then stared fixedly at the glass in front of her. Bubbles fizzed through the water, making her think of a glass idea she was considering. She pushed the random thought out of her head. "I told him about Cade."
"Oh, honey." Mina was not content to simply squeeze her sister's hand, but instead moved to her side of the table and hugged her tightly. "Are you okay?"
Serena nodded. "Darien . . . he didn't blame me or anything. He didn't look at me as though I were some kind of freak, or as if I was about to break. That matters a lot." She stared into Mina's eyes, the same color blue as her own. "Doesn't it? Because it matters a lot to me."
"Oh, god, of course it does, sweetie. He's a good man."
Serena drew in a heavy breath and let it out, at the same time allowing all of the nerves and reservations to escape as well. "Well, then." Her earlier grin perked up the corners of her lips. "In that case, I think we definitely need to celebrate. I had Lita book us both an appointment for the works at her favorite salon. We'll get polished and painted, go shopping, then go out to dinner with our men. How does that sound?"
Mina threw an excited, proud arm over her sister's shoulders. "Sounds about perfect. Watch out, New York, here come the Kyle Sisters!"
***
Three hours later, Serena found herself gazing doubtfully at a brilliant pink concoction held by the facial specialist. "Tell me what's in that again?" It just seemed downright wrong to allow anything that color onto her skin. She had to admit that everything else had felt wonderful, but…
The woman smiled. "This is a specially-prepared mixture of herbs, chemicals, and mud imported from Brazil. It's been formulated specifically for your skin alone. Trust me on this; you'll thank me when you're finished. Your face will never feel so good." Without waiting for Serena's reply, she began to lather the concoction across Serena's brow. She grimaced and made herself lie still. She had to admit, that it did feel good. It sort of tingled, and it smelled of mint and honey.
This had been a wonderful idea of Lita's. She hadn't been quite sure what to do together with Mina, but she had wanted something that would be new, different, and fun. This certainly counted!
While the first therapist worked on rubbing her goop down Serena's nose, another was rubbing lotion into her feet, preparing to finish off the pedicure with a polish called "Fire Island Red." Serena had laughed, remembering the one summer she and Mina had spent on Fire Island, just off of Long Island. They had snuck in to watch a drag show, and hadn't been able to choose between absolute shock and absolute hilarity. It was a good memory.
The thick pink potion was now drying on her face, and she found herself drifting off. She could hear the quiet chatter of Mina's voice in the next room, trying to decide between "Bogotá Blackberry" and "Crystal Palace Pink" for her own nails. She thought about giggling, but it took so much effort, and the warmth of the room and the soothing motions down at her feet were making her sleepy. She'd have to thank Lita that evening.
"Why, look. It's little miss artiste."
The slightly nasal voice erased all traces of relaxation from Serena's mind. Why now? With a quick prayer to whoever might be listening, she opened her eyes.
"Hello, Ann."
* * *