Page 17 of The Holiday

There were charts to analyze, quantify, and put together in small reports that Ms. Coleman would hand out at the next board meeting. Natasha had a background in graphic design that allowed her to do this menial task with little effort. However, even a bit of effort was almost too much right now.

The only way she could concentrate on her work was if she stopped being in the same room as Eve Warner.

Natasha rose from her seat and went to her boss. “What should I do about the charts due on Monday?” she asked, kneeling beside Etta’s seat so she could lower her voice. “Do you want them done tonight or tomorrow?”

“Tonight would be better,” she was quick to respond in her usual gruff manner. “But don’t tax yourself.”

Natasha nodded. “I think I’ll go up to my room and work on them.” It was probably colder up there, but at least she could put on her pajamas and curl up beneath the covers of her guest bed. Maybe play some music too.I’ll need the music to drown out all the lovebirds in this nest.Natasha went back to her table and cleaned up her materials.And my thoughts.

Halfway out of the room, Eve approached her with a glass of cognac. The wordless invitation was there. Not the first time Eve offered her a drink that night. She was offering everyone an endless supply of drinks.

“No thanks,” Natasha mumbled, forcing a small smile of appreciation on her way out.

Sure enough, it was cold in her room. An unlit fireplace offered promises of warmth, but Natasha played with the heater instead. Something softly clanked to life as she grabbed a quilt off an armchair and wrapped it around her at a desk.

Charts. Charts were easier to comprehend now that she had some privacy. No distractions. Just her, a thousand-dollar tablet, a binder full of printouts…

And a head full of naughty, naughty things.

Natasha had no idea where those images came from. Certainly not from her subconscious! Just because a girl suddenly had sex on the brain did not mean she was a nympho.

Why am I thinking about her?Natasha concentrated on a graph showing the steady increase in profits with some investor.Get yourself together, Natasha.True, she had never been in Eve’s vicinity for this long before. Usually, they only saw each other at the office, and that was for ten-minute intervals. Intervals full of flirting, but manageable intervals, nonetheless.

The longer Natasha stayed around someone like Eve, the more she realizedshe had a type.

Until now, Natasha had only dated one type of woman. This “type” consisted solely of women like her: femmes. WhileNatasha didn’t openly identify with her label, she did take it to heart. Frilly things. Feminine things.Pretty things.That was her. When she wasn’t threading her fingers through her long, strawberry-blond locks, she was shopping for big purses, high heels, makeup, and the cutest designer dresses her budget allowed. Basically, Natasha was a glutton for all things feminine. While she didn’t find masculine womenunattractive, they rarely did anything for her.

She liked soft curves. Giggles. Hair that went on for miles right along with a strong pair of lean legs. Her last serious fling was a Midwestern gal with auburn hair down to the small of her back. She always wore it up in a loose, flirty bun.Our favorite kind of date was going to the spa and spoiling ourselves silly with pedicures and facials.

Eve was a different kind of woman. At the same time? Not different at all.

There was a dark femininity about her. No, not sinister.Lovelydark. Mysterious? Perhaps. Eve Warner wasn’t a woman most would call mysterious, though. More like brash and brazen. Beautiful. Bold.Beyond compare.When a woman was one of the richest butch lesbians in the country, she truly was a legendary Diamond Dyke. Eve wore a lot of diamonds. Diamond rings. Diamond earrings. Diamond-studded watches. Her clothes were the same designers as her more feminine, heterosexual friends, but they were cut drastically differently and accentuated various parts of her body. Those collars were meant to show off the length of her neck and the crop of her hair. Those pants gave her the illusion of more hips and the promise of the longest legs. Her heels gave her a gait that was rivaled only by master seductresses. Jamie often talked about meeting women like Eve at the local sports club and seeing them train, both in cardio and strength. Eve worked as hard on herappearance as Natasha did on hers. The outcome? Too radically different to comprehend.

“Okay!” Natasha leaned back in her chair, hands on top of her head. The quilt fell to the floor. “She’s hot!”

Not exactly a new revelation but admitting it out loud like that helped Natasha put the whole thing aside and get back to work.

She took a bathroom break an hour later. Unfortunately, she was in one of the few rooms that didn’t have its own guest bath. Price one had to pay when she was hired help. Natasha recalled the bathroom across the hall and chose the ten o’ clock hour to visit it.

Five minutes later, she emerged to find ascene.

A maid giggled at the other end of the hall. She was young, perhaps twenty-two, and had a healthy tan that glowed beneath her simple black uniform. The woman was also ridiculously short compared to the giant looming over her and making her laugh.

“You get used to it,” Eve said after the maid touched something on the taller woman’s hip. “At first it hurts a lot because of where it is. Anywhere that has a good chunk of bone is going to hurt like the devil. Totally worth it. You want to see more? It goes on a good way.”

More giggles. That maid was going to send herself into a fit at this rate.

Natasha, meanwhile, couldn’t figure out why her cheeks were on fire.

Blushing?Probably.Didn’t take much to make her blush these days. Definitely wasn’t jealousy. Nope.

Because why would Natasha be jealous that the hot woman who always flirted with her would be flirting with someone else? Someoneyounger?

“See?” Eve pulled her pants out farther from her hip. “Wraps down my thigh. I’ll have to be careful for the rest of my life that I don’t stretch it out too much. Good thing I like to work out.”

The housekeeper stifled a squeal.Hussy!What was Eve showing her? A tattoo? She had a tattoo on her hip? Her thigh? Why hadn’t she ever told Natasha that? Why hadn’t she ever offered to showhera hot tattoo?

Eve glanced up and caught Natasha looking in their direction. “Garnet Rose Studio is who did it. Hardest place to get an appointment. Of course, I got one the day after I requested a consultation.”

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