31
Florence
When Josie opens her door, she's dressed to the nines in a dark charcoal suit, her blonde hair pulled back from her face. She's wearing a simple, elegant silver chain around her neck.
It takes me a minute to find my voice.
"Wow."
She raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching up. "Is that a good wow—or a bad wow?"
Before Josie, I never thought about how a woman would look in a tux custom-made for her body. "You look…" I search for the right word. "Ravishing."
She breaks into a grin. "Perfect. Then maybe I'll be able to keep up with you for one night." Her eyes find the curve of my neck, and she licks her lip. "You look stunning." She doesn't even look at my champagne-colored dress with the slit clear up the thigh.
She takes my arm and pulls me down the hall. "Let's go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can come home and I can eat you."
Once we're in the elevator, thankfully alone, I turn to her. "This place is important to me, Josie," I say quietly. She has no idea how much Nook and Nectar mean to me.
Her brow furrows in surprise. "Okay. Show me this special place of yours." She takes my face in her hands and steps closer to me. "Can I kiss you?"
I brush my lips against hers, inhaling her. "Don't get me started," I say, smiling against her hungry mouth. I reluctantly pull away from her as we reach the ground floor.
This woman makes me want to share even the most intimate parts of my life with her. I've never shared the Nook and Nectar with anyone.
She slides her fingers between mine as we head for my car. "Will you tell me why this place is so special to you?"
"I will," I say mysteriously. "Don't tell anyone about it, though. Marin and Hettie don't even know."
We climb into the car. "Are you serious?" she asks after a few minutes. "No one else knows?" She places her hand on my thigh, teasing my bare skin under the hem of my dress.
"No one else knows." I take her hand off my bare thigh. "Don't get me started," I repeat, my center tightening at her touch. I don't know how much of what she feels is just physical and how much of it is more than that, but the way she made love to me Sunday night was not just physical. You don't worship at an altar that means nothing to you. Not for nine hours.
We pull into the parking lot, and I take her hand, leading her to the Book Nook.
"Why are we going to the bookstore?" she asks, laughing at my eagerness.
I squeeze her hand and my heart flutters. I'm really doing this. I'm really sharing this part of my life with her. "You'll see," I tease. I open the door and motion her in.
At the counter, Shelby nods to me with a knowing smile, and I have to fight back my own grin.
As we wind our way to the back of the stacks, she clasps my hand. "Are you nervous about this?" she asks gently.
Yes. "A little. Like I said, this is a special place to me." No one can understand how important this place has been to me during hard times. Matthew is standing near the door to the back room, his hands clasped behind his back. "Through here," I tell Josie, opening the door.
Once in the back room, I pull open the back door to Nectar, clutching her hand. The rush of the familiar, the subtle aroma of aged wines, embraces me. The weight of what I'm about to do presses on me as I breathe it in. I'm actually doing this, sharing my private space with her. "This way." I manage, my throat tight.
Becca Guzman, one of the establishment's three sommeliers, approaches us, and she greets me with a familiar smile. "This way, Florence," she motions toward the private room near the back, a space normally reserved only for the wealthiest of our patrons. Stepping through the doorway, the atmosphere shifts immediately. The lighting softens, and the faint notes of classical music float through the air. "You brought company this evening," she notes, meeting my gaze.
"I did," I reply simply.
"Would you like your wine now, or would you like to wait and have it with dinner?" She glances at Josie with a hint of curiosity.
I guide Josie to the leather couch. "We're ready for it now," I tell Becca.
Josie sinks into the couch, looking around the room. The walls are decorated with simple, black-and-white photos of vineyards at sunset, simple yet sophisticated.
Nodding, Becca disappears through the door with a soft click. She's back within moments carrying a tray with a bottle of wine nestled in a silver ice bucket.
"The best we have in the house," she states with pride. "Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, 1996. You'll taste notes of ripe black cherries, earthy truffle, and a hint of crushed violets." She pours, ruby red goodness swirling in the glasses.
I breathe deeply as the aroma overtakes me. "To new beginnings," I say, meeting Josie's eyes.
Becca lingers, waiting for our dinner order.
"This is exquisite," I tell her. "We'll have the chef's pairing menu. Surprise us," I say, putting my wine glass down. With a nod, she disappears through the door.
Josie shifts beside me. "This place is incredible," she murmurs.
Leaning back, I let the plush sofa envelop me. "It's my retreat. My hiding place," I admit softly, the words slipping out before I can stop them. "I've never brought anyone here. You're the first."
"Then I'm honored." She's quiet for a moment, but when I don't speak, she encourages me to continue. "Tell me about it," she says gently.
I nod, my throat tight. "When Katie and I started having issues," I start, "this place became my refuge. I'd come to the Nook for hours, and when they closed, Nectar would let me in the back. It became my safe haven."
Josie takes my hand, lacing her fingers with mine.
"It wasn't that bad, but things had gotten uncomfortable at home. Before she left, I came here almost every night for over a year." I swallow the lump in my throat. "Then after she left, it was natural for me to come here when being at home felt empty."
She squeezes my hand gently. "Everyone here became a sort of family for you."
"Something like that." I nod. "So when they had to close their doors a few years ago, I had to do something." I take another sip of my wine, hesitant to go on.
"They didn't close, though. You had a hand in that."
"They had bad management and were making bad business decisions," I defend myself. "I made a small investment in the company and brought in an experienced business strategist to get them on the right track."
"How much is a small investment?"
"Just the cost of the space upstairs. Technically, it's mine. In practice, it's often rented out for business meetings and the like. It generates revenue that way."
"Ever the business woman." Josie smiles at me, her eyes soft. "So you saved two businesses and helped them turn around. You saved jobs."
"It was selfish." My cheeks flush. "I didn't want to lose my safe haven."
"Those two things aren't mutually exclusive," she points out, the corner of her mouth curling up in a smile. "Is that why everyone here treats you like a queen?" she teases.
That pulls a smile out of me. "They treat me like a paying customer, that's all."
"Mm-hmm." She leans over and kisses me. "You're an amazing person. You know that, Florence Pietra?"
I shake my head. "The business strategist and I decided to get the businesses involved with the community. The Nook started a reading program for kids from the shelter downtown," I say quietly. "And Nectar holds monthly fundraisers for different local charities." I like to keep my involvement quiet. Both businesses do good work without my name being attached.
"You really care about our community, don't you?" She sounds surprised.
"Of course. I did a lot of work with community groups when I was young. Now we work with Delmont's Cultural Center. The bookstore has become a safe haven for queer kids—a place to be without judgment, to see characters like themselves in books, to feel represented." I squeeze her fingers. "And let's just say there's a reason certain community groups regularly book the private rooms for their meetings."
She laughs, the wine loosening her up.
My phone buzzes, interrupting her laughter.
"It's Nonna." My heart drops. "Mom says she's not doing well."