Page 35 of The Dommes

Ha.

Hahahaha!

Who the fuck do she and Kennedy think they are? The Ace is worth half that, at best. No, it’s not a cheap piece of hot property. And I know they expect us to bargain them down but from such an astronomical high? This whole charade gets more ridiculous as time goes by.

At least it’s Friday and we’re about to get this over with. As soon as Lara shares this bullshit, I turn to Vivian and have her go over everything she brought. I see Kathleen doing the same thing with her assistant. Her father is also with her this time. Probably to make sure she doesn’t fuck up.

Katie is not going to fuck up. She’s got this. I believe in her, and most of all, she believes in herself. I watched her rehearse. I critiqued her and she critiqued me. We both had good ideas for the other person that are sure to make it into our respective presentations.

It’s funny. We would probably make good business partners. We would also make awful long-term lovers.

I’m still laughing. I woke up Thursday morning with a headache and a need for her to touch me. I dreamed that Katie was on her stomach, on her back, bent over and kissing my thighs. Doing whatever I told her to do. Lapping up whatever I offered and puffing out little “Mistresses” that made me feel like the biggest bitch in the world. What? She put those ideas in my head the night when she made that ridiculous bet.

God, what a dumb bet. Like she would ever submit to me.

Let alone me submitting to her! The idea is so absurd. Regardless of the outcome today, I assume we forget what we promised when we were drunk. She was so blitzed off her drinks that I doubt she even remembers.

Katie – no, I should probably stop calling her that – looks at me before stepping into the council hall. I think there’s a smile on her face.

What is she thinking? I probably don’t want to know.

Just as Vivian confirms everything is in order, everyone and their grandmother enter the hall. It’s an old building that has seen a lot of use over the decades. Centuries, even. Well, maybe one century. I forgot to look at the plaque on the way in here.

Either way, it’s an old, gothic-styled building with ample seating for a small city. Because when this place was built, it was capable of holding the entire city’s population of two thousand. Since then, the city has not only grown to be the biggest in the region but in this part of America. So to say the place is a bit packed with people who have a lot of feelings about The Ace is an understatement. From the minute we walk inside, we’re surrounded by strangers. Middle and low-income strangers. Many of whom had distant relatives who stayed in The Ace before attempting to make the American dream come true for them.

“We’re going to kick ass,” Kathleen says as we approach the front of the hall. Gray walls covered in stone carvings look down at us in between the judgmental eyes. Anyone who has a vested interest in who we are. It doesn’t help that I’m wearing one of my nicest suits and Kathleen looks like a New England senator in her tight, dark pencil skirt and peplum white blouse. She’s got her hair up. The glasses are a nice touch. I had no idea she wore them.

“Ma’am,” Annie hisses to her at our table. “One of the lenses is missing…”

“Oh!” Kathleen searches her clutch for an eyeglass lens. Really? She’s faking the eyeglasses? Whatever. They’re cute on her.

Before us is a high table where the council sits. Colleen Woodrow is already here, sitting beside her co-chair, an elderly gentleman who looks at us with disdain. Or maybe that’s how he always looks. I’m unfazed either way.

I hope Kathleen feels the same. Both of the Anderssens sit off to the side of our table. They’ll be opening the statements, talking about the real estate themselves since that’s what they do best. As for my father? He’s sitting in the first row behind me, giving two thumbs up. And… dear Lord, my mother is with him.

I feel like I’m back in school. This is my recital. Only this time both of my parents are here, instead of one showing up and the other fucking off to go to some conference or whatever.

What I’m saying is that they never both show up unless it’s really important.

Mr. Allen confers with his daughter about something before tugging on one of the tufts of her shirt. I can’t hear what he says about it, but Kathleen grimaces as if he’s insulted her.

My fingers grip the edge of the table. Vivian has to say my name twice before I respond.

I wish I could say that today is a blur. Instead, it drags on and on, partly because the weight of a community is on our shoulders. This goes beyond possible gentrification. This downtown area has long been gentrified. Like forty years gentrified. No, the people who are here don’t necessarily live in this neighborhood. I know, because it’s people like me who live around here.

The people who are here come because they trace their ancestry here, or they have some connection to The Ace. That’s not hard to imagine because it’s such a monument in the area. Did I mention that presidents used to stay there? Lots of people who have been around for generations like to think they have some part of that history. Or they love the building.

That’s fine. I still should be able to buy it and do what I want with it. Especially if doing what I want means restoring it to how it used to be!

This lets people feel like they have power. So when Kennedy Anderssen gets up and starts talking about the rustic beauty of The Ace, complete with photos from its heyday, I see people in the stands raise their eyebrows and wait for the other shoe to drop.

“…One-hundred-and-forty years ago, The Ace opened as more than a luxury hotel in the heart of what was once the downtown core,” Kennedy says with her regal charm. The woman may not be the biggest around, but she carries herself like a big real estate tycoon. Her wife looks up adoringly, her smile supporting Kennedy as she crosses her legs and rewards bravado with a hint of skin. These sorts of things don’t go by unnoticed with me.

Kathleen notices it too. She glances over her shoulder at me with a “Really? They’re flirting now, of all times?” look. I agree. Tacky.

“The Ace is a place of history. It’s culture. It’s a building that everyone in this room can respect and want to see be great again. That’s why we are here today to propose a beautiful restoration. Not only will we….” We? Speak for yourself, Kennedy. You’re washing your hands of this whole situation. “…Will we restore the hotel from the ground up, but it will be more economically efficient and truer to history than ever before. Not only that, but it will include an educational center so locals and tourists alike can learn more about the area’s rich history. I would like to turn the floor over to Ira Mathison, head of restoration and development.”

That’s my cue.

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