Chapter 8
Yasmine’s heart lurched in her chest. She blinked at Bella in distress.
Do I need my ears suctioned? She didn’t just say that.
But, as the air settled, and Bella made no move to elaborate, it became clear that she had, in fact, said that.
Yasmine immediately scanned Bella’s face for signs of bullshit. Was she holding back a laugh? Did she have her phone out? Was she recording this? How much was she getting paid? Who was paying her?
Bella’s hand fell over Yasmine’s knee, giving it a light squeeze, like a zookeeper trying to reason with a frightened animal.
“Hey, are you okay?”
She had the audacity to look worried. This woman.
“Of course I’m okay. I’m an adult,” Yasmine said, but it came out strangled.
To give herself a semblance of control, she backed up until there was nowhere else on the couch to go, which was only about two inches.
How dare it be so miserably small? She would be replacing it with one of those supersized IKEA monstrosities as soon as this conversation was over.
“An adult who is crawling backwards away from me.”
“I’m not…” Yasmine said defensively, then took in a humiliated breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. She definitely was. “Are you fucking with me?”
Bella frowned, grabbing her coffee from the table and taking a long sip, as if this situation required no urgency from her. As if they were still talking about exams.
“What? No. I wouldn’t lie about finding someone attractive,” she said, then arched an eyebrow. “Would you lie about something like that?”
Yasmine blinked. How the hell is she turning this around on me?
“Of course not.”
“Good. I’d think less of you. It’s cruel to toy with someone’s self confidence.”
Is she for real? “Um, sure,” Yasmine said curtly. She was starting to lose her mind a little bit. “Bella, are you… propositioning me right now?”
If this was a dream, God, she’d be thrilled. It’d be a great few subconscious hours.
But it wasn’t.
This was her living room at six AM on a teaching day, and she was sitting inches away from her colleague. Her colleague who she was hoping to employ.
She’d laid it all out to Sylvia on the phone already why this—her and Bella doing whatever, being whatever—could not happen.
She had to remind herself of that as she watched Bella chew absentmindedly on her red-tipped fingernail.
“Propositioning? Seriously? You really might be as old as you say you are,” Bella teased, grinning around her finger, and Yasmine’s stomach did flips.
“No, I’m not propositioning you. I was just trying to take some of the tension out of the room.
You were getting a little intense with your interrogation.
You might have a promising second career with the FBI. ”
Bella grinned wider at her own joke, and Yasmine balked. If confessing to your colleague that you found them hot was Bella’s definition of lightening the mood, the literacy crisis might have also reached her.
“So you don’t find me attractive,” Yasmine deduced slowly.
It didn’t even sting at this point. She was just completely lost.
“What? No, I do. I think you’re gorgeous. Honestly, I thought about giving you my number when I first saw you scare that poor guy out of the coffee shop. But I was joking about it being an issue. Obviously, we can still work together.”
When Yasmine continued to stare at her like a lost child, Bella tucked a blonde lock behind her ear and sighed.
“My sisters are always telling me I’m too blunt with people,” she said. “I promise I just meant it as a compliment. You don’t have to worry about me trying to make out with you on the lab table. Cross my heart.”
God, I really wish you would, though.
Yasmine’s own thought struck her like a bat. Her cheeks heated horribly. This was so, so much worse than thinking Bella was some unavailable straight woman.
But so what, Bella found her attractive? Human beings, especially colleagues, found each other attractive all the time. Most people just weren’t so upfront about it. Kudos to Bella for being so socially evolved that she could announce it at six AM over coffee. It clearly didn’t mean much to her.
Even though she did kind of imply that in any other situation we would probably be having sex.
Yasmine felt the room spin. Dear god.
Taking a deep breath in, she finally took the coffee from the table.
“This is way too much for six AM,” she muttered into her now cold beverage. The cup smelled like Bella’s perfume, which didn’t help.
“That’s fine. Should we switch topics?” Bella volunteered easily. Yasmine saw right through the tactic.
“Yes,” Yasmine said, then, seeing her opportunity, she smiled tightly. “So, where the fuck are you from, Bella?”
To Yasmine’s surprise, Bella let out a laugh. A genuine one that had her shaking her head afterward. She pushed Yasmine lightly on the chest.
“God, you don’t let things go.”
“This is me being nice.”
Bella lifted her eyebrows. “That so?” she added suggestively, but she thankfully didn’t take the joke any farther. “Fine, fine. Give me a drum roll, at least.”
Yasmine rolled her eyes, probably to avoid fixating on the pressure of Bella’s hands briefly against her collarbones. “No.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Bella.”
Bella grinned so wide, with such mischievous glee, that Yasmine just wanted to smother her. The slight crookedness of her lips was unbearably endearing.
“Fine,” Bella sighed. “I’ll do it myself.”
She drummed against her ankle for effect.
“I’m from. Dun-dun-dun…” She made a great flourish with her hands. “Boston. Go Sox.”
Yasmine’s eye twitched as Bella danced her fingers in the air like confetti.
“Bella… Do you think I’m stupid?” Yasmine muttered, then gestured with violent exasperation at Bella’s shirt. “You’re literally wearing a Yankees shirt.”
Bella’s eyebrows creased as she looked down at herself, pulling at the hem of the shirt as if she’d never seen it before. She mouthed out the words on it.
“Huh. So that’s what it says. Surprised you can read it, it’s so washed out.” It was completely legible. “So? I got it from the thrift store. I’m broke. We both know this.”
“You’re such a liar,” Yasmine said, reaching out to push her on the chest.
Bella caught her arms.
“I’m not lying. I…” Her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated how to linguistically achieve her next sentence, “I wicked am from Boston.”
“Oh my god. That is not how they use that word.”
Bella giggled—that heavenly, deceptively innocent laugh of hers—and Yasmine fought her way out of her grip, so now it was her hands wrapping around Bella’s arms. She pushed the blonde down onto the couch, straddling her.
“I’m not joking. Tell me where you’re really from,” Yasmine said. “Last chance. Or consider the lab invitation rescinded.”
Bella inhaled sharply, her eyes widening. Yasmine only realized then what she’d done. Bella’s thighs were hot under hers, her midriff exposed as her t-shirt hiked up just over her belly button. Yasmine was completely on top of her.
Bella went silent for a long moment, and it drove Yasmine insane. She was never silent. Why now? Why when Yasmine could see each of her individual eyelashes?
“I really am from Boston,” she finally whispered. “Well, twenty minutes outside of it, technically. We don’t all have the accent.”
“Bella,” Yasmine threatened, staring daggers at her.
“If you say my name like that again I really will kiss you,” Bella said breathily.
Yasmine’s heart thumped uncontrollably. At some point Bella’s hands had curled around Yasmine’s waist, perhaps to stabilize her. The touch felt unbearably hot.
“Do you have your passport with you?” Yasmine said, ignoring the building heat in her center. “Some proof of birthplace?
“No.” The couch creaked under them as Bella took a breath in. “It’s at school.”
“Show it to me tomorrow. Driver’s license too, if you have one.”
“Jeez. Alright, officer. You run a strict program,” Bella laughed, pinching Yasmine’s waist. Then she leaned up, her abs flexing as she rose high enough to press her lips to the shell of Yasmine’s ear. “Am I free to go now?”
Yasmine took in a shaky breath.
“Yes,” she said.
“Uh huh. You know, that will require you to get off of me,” Bella said, splaying her hand across Yasmine’s thigh, which was still keeping her pinned.
Yasmine flushed. She quickly extricated herself, shaking her head as if she’d been possessed.
“I’m sorry for intruding on your personal space,” Yasmine said, clearing her throat and fixing her eyes on the floor as Bella rose from the couch. “Even though you were being unbearably evasive, I still shouldn’t have done that.”
“Oh, I really don’t mind,” Bella said, picking up the empty mugs. “We’re going to be working late hours in tight quarters. Might as well get comfortable now. Maybe we should have a sleepover in your room soon, really break the ice.”
She turned back to wink. Yasmine coughed to avoid choking on air.
“I’m glad I didn’t offend you,” Yasmine muttered, ignoring all the other nonsense she just spouted. “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
Bella turned back, and cocked her head. “Yasmine… I really only meant it as a compliment. Plus, you’re about to be my boss, right?
Boss, colleague, landlord, roommate. Do you really think it would be wise for us to add friends with benefits to that list?
Kind of messy, even for me.” She laughed again.
Yasmine’s mouth opened, then shut. She decided to drop the topic before she said something truly stupid. She nodded once. “Glad we’re on the same page, then.”
Bella snorted. “Not sure we’re even in the same book, but we’ll get there.”
***
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Yasmine groaned. Maybe that wasn’t her full name.
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Seriously?
How could someone alive in 2026 have zero digital footprint?
Yasmine slapped the laptop shut and tossed it into the armchair next to her bed, reaching for her phone instead.
Even after hours of scrounging around every search engine available to the western hemisphere, she’d found nothing.
Nothing real, at least. Plenty of scientific papers about mold.
Peer-reviewed works. A graduate thesis from Princeton.
But anything before her graduate studies was nonexistent, as if it had been scrubbed clean.
“From Boston my ass,” she muttered. “I can’t believe I have to resort to this. Humiliating.”
Yasmine: i need a favor.
financial leech: jeez. Haven’t heard that since 1402. you kill someone?
Yasmine: worse. i think im cohabitating with a pathological liar.
financial leech: wait, cohabitating? As in you let someone in your house?
Damn it.
Yasmine was going to regret that information slip for the rest of her eternal life.
Yasmine: ignore that part. I need you to do a deep search on the name bella dragomir.
Maybe Isabella Dragomir. I’m not sure. You’re better at computer stuff than I am.
I can’t find anything. Like she’s some kind of ghost. Normally I’d ask Rebecca, but she’s with her kids today. So you’re my last resort.
financial leech: oh my god. wait. you’re living with HER?
Groaning aloud, Yasmine navigated to the settings app and turned on limit data. Then she slapped the phone down on the comforter, and buried her head in her pillows.