Page 6 of Make Her Mine

“You think we can?” Skepticism didn’t normally have a place in Esme’s way of thinking, but it had been a rough couple of days. “I haven’t even told you how much they’re asking for the building.”

Sasha reached out and hauled her to her feet. “Well, get your ass up to the front of house so you can brief us, then.”

“Us?”

With a chuckle, Sasha pushed Esme through the door and down the corridor towards the main room of the Lounge. “I know you didn’t think you’d be trying to do this alone, did you? Come on, E. It takes a village, and all that.”

As they emerged into the big, bright main room, Esme’s jaw dropped to see a crowd of her friends and regulars around the bar, all of whom broke out into a cheer at the sight of her. Punky Mia and statuesque Harper, geek-chic Ruby, elfin Chloe… they were all there along with androgynous Cam Casey, a regular who moonlit as a part-time bartender for the Lounge so she could flirt with half the clientele. Esme’s friend Deborah, a TV executive who was usually too busy during the day to make it to the Lounge for lunch, was there next to Mia and Harper. This core group was surrounded by still more people—some of the drag queens and kings that often performed at Lounge drag nights were there, sans their greasepaint and glitter in the daytime but still glowing with delight to see her. Regulars who had been coming here for years, night and day, people whose health problems she’d heard about, relationships she’d given advice on, work challenges she’d helped them solve.

Esme had never asked any of them for help, had never thought she’d ever be in a position to need it. And yet, here they were, gathered here to save their community home. To help her. Tears sprang to her eyes.

That, of course, was the moment Nora Hartley chose to walk through the door, and Esme’s heart stuttered in her chest.

After her reception from Esme Bloom four days ago, Nora wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go back to the Indigo Lounge. If she was going to buy the Fairchild Building and kick the Lounge out, surely the best strategy was to simply conduct everything through legal channels and paper. That way would be clean, efficient. No messy emotions or having the scene where Esme’s sweet demeanor had given way to hostility and an order for Nora to vacate the premises continue playing in her head on a loop.

But something told her to go back. To have lunch, to try to talk to Esme. To see if she could get a feel for just how difficult the bar owner was going to make her life. So here Nora was, once again standing on the sidewalk outside of the Lounge, surveying the pride flags she was now well on her way to being able to identify, thanks to Laurie.

She felt it would be best to come in a bit more casually, not in her designer suit and carrying a Mulberry briefcase. Instead, Nora had opted for a blue silk wrap dress and carried only a simple black Launer wallet clutch in her hand. It was her hope that she would seem more approachable, although why exactly she wanted Esme to think of her that way was beyond her at the moment.

Nora walked through the door of the Lounge, and her eyes went straight to Esme. Esme, who was standing in the center of a knot of people at the bar, all of whom seemed to be trying to hug her and talk at once. Esme, who looked appealing in a simple long gray shift dress and dark red ballerina flats, her silver and brown curls loosely tied back at the nape of her neck. She was lovely, but she also looked very tired, and Nora felt a touch guilty about the dark circles under her eyes. It wasn’t hard to guess what had caused those.

Esme spotted her right away, and the happy expression on her face turned stony. The chatter around the bar died away, and as everyone there followed Esme’s gaze to Nora, the atmosphere in the room grew distinctly chilly. Nora tilted her chin up. “Ms. Bloom.”

“Ms. Hartley.” Esme disentangled herself from the group and walked over to stand in front of Nora, barring her further entry. She crossed her arms over her chest and stood hipshot, her chin lifted as well. “I believe I made my feelings clear four days ago.”

Nora wasn’t about to beg. It wasn’t her style. She kept things simple, spreading her hands wide to indicate she meant no harm. “I just came to have lunch. And maybe to talk with you.” She smiled. “Maybe there’s somewhere a bit more private?”

Esme stared at her for a moment before rolling her marvelous brown eyes and turning on her heel. She beckoned back to Nora without looking. “Come on.”

She had to bolt her smile on a little firmer and held her head high as she strode behind Esme, ignoring the hostile glares coming at her from the gang at the bar. The stocky chef broke away from the group and came to the booth Esme led Nora to. Her attitude towards Nora was somehow even less welcoming than Esme’s; she outright glared at Nora as she settled herself into the purple vinyl cushioning of the booth.

“Sasha, can you bring us two Diet Cokes and a medium plate of your Heapin’ Helpin’ Nachos?” Esme glanced at Nora. “Unless you have anything else you’d prefer?”

“Are the nachos chicken or beef?” Nora asked, wondering if she should be put out that someone had ordered for her. Nobody ever ordered for her.

“Neither. They’re black bean. I’m a vegetarian.” Esme sent Sasha off with a warm smile that faded as soon as she was looking at Nora again. “Well, here we are. What do you want?”

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot the other day.” Nora took in a deep breath and folded her hands on the table in front of her. To her dismay, Esme tossed her ponytail and scoffed.

“Given who you are and what you represent, I don’t see how there was any other foot to get off on.” Esme regarded her with a challenging glint in her eyes. “Oh, yes, Nora Hartley. I knew who you were before you told me your name. And I’ve had a few days to get to really know you.”

Nora felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. “I sincerely doubt that.”

“Do you? There’s a lot of information out there about you. I bet I know more about you than you know about me or the Indigo Lounge.” Esme smirked. “I’m surprised, really. A California girl like you coming in to close a Californian business. I mean, that’s going to be your goal for this place, right? You’re going to buy this building, throw all of us out, and strip the Fairchild of all its character, then sell it on to some other sucker who has no idea what got plowed under for his investment—am I right?”

Being disliked wasn’t a new thing for Nora; but being so profoundly misunderstood by someone she’d met once four days ago was, and it stung. “You really, really do not know me.”

“Maybe not. Or maybe I know what I need to know.” The once-over that Esme gave her was as sharp as an airport scanner and Nora felt like it might be just as thorough. “You come in here in your designer gear, dollar signs in your eyes, and you size this place up with no regard for its value beyond the wallet.” Esme crossed her arms and leaned across the table. “How many lesbian-owned businesses have you crushed under your Prada heel?”

“Wow. Wow.” The bitter laugh that burst out of Nora at being challenged and misunderstood this way was well out of her control. “Ms. Bloom, this is business. Not personal, not targeted. This is an amazing building in an amazing location. I didn’t even know there was a lesbian bar here until four days ago. I’m not coming for you.” She pointed at herself. “I mean, I’m a lesbian.”

“Oh, I know. Honestly, that’s what makes all of this even more incredible. You’re not even denying that you intend to close one of the last original lesbian bars in America.” Another scoff. “Amazing.”

“Now, hang on a minute.” Nora shook her head. “You’re not even giving me a chance to talk. I told you; this isn’t personal.” She looked around the bar, at the posters and décor. She avoided making eye contact with the group still clustered at the bar, all whispering heads together and looking at the booth where she and Esme sat. “Your bar is great, but yes, the likelihood is that I’m going to ask you to leave if I buy the building. I like to start fresh when I buy important real estate.”

Esme opened her mouth to reply, eyes glinting, but just then the chef came by with their drinks and a huge plate of divine-smelling loaded nachos. Nora’s stomach growled, and for the first time that she could remember in recent memory, she blushed. Esme rolled her eyes.

But she stayed quiet, not continuing with whatever she was going to say. Nora took the chance to leap in and continue explaining. “If you’re open to the idea, I can help you relocate. There are gay bars all over the city, we can find a place for yours.”

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