Page 18 of Make Her Mine

It had been two weeks since she’d seen or heard from Nora. And she knew that she’d asked for it, that she had needed the break from the intense funfair ride that was sleeping with the enemy. The surprise was how much she missed Nora.

There hadn’t even been so much as a text, not that Esme could really be shocked by that. She’d been so up and down with Nora, it amazed her that the woman hadn’t gone directly back to her office, finalized the purchase of the Fairchild Building, and thrown Esme and the Lounge out posthaste. Just to be done with what Esme had been putting her through.

It was a heavy burden, made worse by not knowing what was happening with the sale. Esme almost wished Nora would go ahead and drop the guillotine. Then she’d be forced to do something. As it was, she’d spent the last two weeks vaguely poking through retail space listings, trying to find somewhere she could take the Lounge if they really had to go. The whole process was far more overwhelming than it had been twenty years ago, though, so her halfhearted efforts went nowhere.

No info on the sale. No Nora. No sex, either. Esme hadn’t even touched herself since she’d asked Nora to leave. As frustrated as she was, with her newly reawakened libido wreaking daily havoc, she just didn’t feel like she deserved the luxury of an orgasm.

Altogether, everything had left her irritable and short-tempered with everyone in her life, hurting feelings left and right. She’d snapped at Sasha over being asked to approve a new menu, at Ruby for asking for a liquor substitution in a drink, at Cam for calling in sick with literal strep throat. None of them were talking much to her at the moment, either, and Esme knew perfectly well that she deserved it.

“Mom?” Holly’s voice was cautious and worried. “Hey, Mom, come on. Look at me?”

“No.” Esme shook her head so her curls fell around her face and obscured her from Holly’s sight.

A heavy sigh came from the laptop. “Mom. I love you, but I didn’t get up at 8 AM to sit and watch you cry on Facetime. We were having fun, we were making things, what happened? What’s going on?”

Esme lifted her head and let out her own sigh. She grabbed a tissue from a box on her end table and dabbed away her tears. “It’s complicated, Hols.”

“I can see that. Usually takes a lot to make you cry, let alone start throwing things.” Setting aside her crocheting, Holly leaned in closer to her laptop camera, and Esme’s heart ached at how far Brisbane was from Los Angeles. She missed Holly so much, more now than ever. At this moment, all Esme wanted was a hug from her baby girl.

A good long talk was just going to have to suffice. Esme scrubbed the tears off her cheeks with the heel of her hand. “You know that someone’s trying to buy the Fairchild, and that they intend to evict the Lounge.”

“Yeah.” Holly’s sunny face clouded over and she frowned. “I remember you telling me about that bitch on wheels, what’s her name, Nell? Nina?”

“Nora.” Esme cleared her throat. “And I didn’t raise you to use that word like that, Holly Bernadette Bloom.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “I feel like we can make an exception for the woman who is literally trying to ruin your life. Anyway. So that’s still happening? What’s going on there?”

Esme squirmed. Maybe she’d undersold her situation when she’d used the word complicated. “I’ve been sort of seeing someone.”

Holly frowned again. “What does that have to do with…” Her eyes widened. “Mom. You’re kidding, right?”

“I just had to raise a smart kid.” Esme cast her gaze up towards heaven and sighed. Her cheeks were hot, and she knew her entire face was bright pink as she brought her focus back down and met her daughter’s incredulous eyes. “Yes, what you’re thinking is correct.”

“And insane. Mom, I can’t believe this. You’re not seriously sleeping with that woman!”

“Well, I mean, I’m not now. But yeah, okay, I was, for a little bit. Sue me.” She threw her hands up. “I’m human, Hols. I’m a woman, I like women, she’s good-looking, interesting, there was something there…”

“I can’t believe any of that was enough to override your good sense, but sure, Mom.” Holly was rubbing her temples. “I’m guessing since you said was that you sent her packing, but how come you’re so upset about it? It should be good to not be involved with some ruthless tycoon in designer heels, especially one that’s trying to, like, bust up your entire legacy.”

“It should be, but oh, how the universe likes to laugh,” Esme muttered, slumping against into the comfort of her overstuffed, secondhand couch. “I miss her.”

Silence from Brisbane. A long, incredulous silence, long enough that Esme counted at least five different expressions of disbelief making their way across Holly’s face. When her daughter finally spoke, her words were preceded with an actual, literal sputter. “You what?”

“I miss her, Holly. She…” The words didn’t want to come. Esme twisted her hands in her lap. “She’s strong. Smart. So driven. But there’s a romance at her core, and a level of patience I didn’t know to expect from someone so powerful and successful.” She blinked up at her living room ceiling as the tears threatened to make a reappearance. “I’ve never known anyone like her before. She’s put up with a lot from me the last few weeks.”

“She’s put up with a lot? Mom! Hello!” Holly leaned into the laptop camera again and snapped her fingers. “She wants to drive you out of the Lounge! You were telling me about your dreams for the place when I was still in a playpen. You dragged me all over LA on the bus looking for the perfect location for it, and Uncle Leonard practically gave you the spot in his building and helped you so much…” Holly shook her head in disappointment. “What would he think if he were still here?”

“I wouldn’t be in this situation if he was,” Esme pointed out. “So it’s moot.”

Holly lapsed into silence with a wordless grumble. She picked up her bralette again and resumed work on it. Esme took advantage of the silence to go retrieve her own yarn. When she came back to sit on the couch again, she watched her daughter angrily crochet for a long moment before finally saying, “I don’t expect you to understand. For anyone to understand.”

“Good, because I don’t.” Holly’s hands stilled, and she gripped her project tightly. Then she sighed. “But I don’t have to. I can see you’re miserable without her. How long has it been?”

“Two weeks.” Esme played with the ball of yarn in her lap, rolling it back and forth in her hands. “I threw her out of my office for suggesting we take our, um, activities to a more comfortable place.”

Holly’s face was a picture. “You were screwing around in that broom closet you call an office? Jesus, I’m surprised she didn’t dump you first.”

“I told you, she’s patient beyond reason.” And I don’t deserve it.

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