Chapter 8
Sarah
Sarah locked her apartment door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly. The party had been a success. Stavros had laughed, genuinely pleased. Even Peter and Derek had looked grudgingly impressed as they left.
But that was before the kiss.
And now, all Sarah could think about was the kiss.
She kicked off her heels and walked barefoot through the apartment.
She and Billy had lived in a large house in the Key Haven area, not far from the hotel.
It had been a lovely home but without Billy, she’d felt lonely.
So six months ago, she’d rented a cute two-bedroom apartment in the heart of Key West, in the old Gato Cigar Factory, which now house several apartments.
Usually, she loved the place but today, it’s quiet felt almost oppressive.
That damn kiss.
It had been so brief. Barely a second. But Sarah couldn’t stop replaying it. The softness of Lizzie’s mouth. The little gasp she’d made when their lips touched.
She hadn’t kissed a woman in years. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like, that power that only happened with women. The way her whole body responded differently.
She closed her eyes. In her mind, the kiss lasted longer. Lizzie’s hands in her hair instead of on her waist. Sarah backing her against a wall somewhere private, somewhere without cameras and drunk college kids cheering. Kissing her properly, deeply, until they were both breathless.
Her hand drifted down her stomach, under the waistband of her slacks.
She was already wet. Had been since the moment Lizzie pulled her onto the dance floor. Maybe before that, if she was being honest with herself.
Sarah touched herself slowly at first, her hand sliding under the waistband of her slacks.
She imagined Lizzie’s mouth on her neck, kissing down to her collarbone. Those freckled shoulders bare under Sarah’s hands, warm skin that smelled like sunscreen and vanilla. The dress Lizzie had been wearing at the party, how easy it would be to slide the straps down.
Her fingers moved in slow circles. She let herself sink into the fantasy, building it piece by piece.
Lizzie in her bed instead of at the party.
No crowd, no cameras, just the two of them in the dark.
Sarah kissing her properly this time, deeply, tasting her.
Lizzie responding with that eager energy she brought to everything, pulling Sarah closer.
Sarah’s breathing quickened. Her free hand moved to her breast, squeezing through the fabric of her blouse.
In her mind, it was Lizzie’s hand. Lizzie touching her, exploring, learning what Sarah liked.
Those sparkling eyes watching Sarah’s reactions, that quick intelligence focused entirely on giving pleasure.
She imagined pushing Lizzie back against the pillows. Kissing down her throat, her sternum, lower. Lizzie’s hands in Sarah’s hair, gripping tight. The little sounds she might make when Sarah’s mouth found her breast, when Sarah’s tongue circled her nipple.
Sarah’s fingers moved faster now, her hips rocking slightly against her own hand. She could picture it so clearly. The taste of Lizzie’s skin. The way her body would arch when Sarah moved lower still, kissing down her stomach, spreading her thighs.
The fantasy shifted. Now Lizzie was the one on top, straddling Sarah’s hips. Auburn hair falling around them like a curtain. Lizzie grinding down, both of them still clothed but desperate for friction. Sarah’s hands on Lizzie’s hips, guiding the movement, watching her face as she got close.
Sarah added pressure, her fingers finding the rhythm that always worked.
She imagined Lizzie naked now, that tight body on display.
Imagined using her tongue the way she really wanted to, tasting Lizzie properly, making her come undone.
The sounds Lizzie would make. The way she’d say Sarah’s name in that breathless voice people got when they were right on the edge.
Her own breath was coming in short gasps now. The fantasy played out in vivid detail. Lizzie beneath her, thighs spread, Sarah’s face between her legs. Lizzie’s hands fisted in the sheets, her back arching, saying “please” and “don’t stop” and “Sarah” over and over.
Sarah’s fingers worked faster, circling her clit in tight, urgent movements. She was close, so close. In her mind, Lizzie was saying her name, begging, right there with her.
The orgasm hit hard and sudden, rolling through her in waves.
Sarah bit her lip to stay quiet even though she was alone, her hips lifting off the couch as pleasure pulsed through her body.
She rode it out, her fingers still moving, drawing out every last sensation until she was oversensitive and trembling.
Afterward, she sat there for a long moment, her hand still between her legs, her heart pounding. Her blouse was rumpled, her slacks twisted. She felt flushed and satisfied and immediately disgusted with herself.
What was she doing? Lizzie was Sarah’s employee.
She stood abruptly, sorting her clothes out and grabbed her purse. She needed to get out of this apartment before she did something even more stupid. A walk would clear her head. Fresh air.
She walked down to Duval Street which was packed with tourists. No wonder.
It always was on Saturday nights during spring break. The bars were all open, music spilling out onto the sidewalk. Someone was playing guitar on a corner, his case open for tips.
She passed one of the larger bars, popular with tourists and locals alike. The bass from inside rattled the windows.
Sarah kept walking. She wasn’t ready to go into any of these places. She just needed to move, to burn off the restless energy still humming under her skin.
A block ahead, the door to Larry’s Bar opened and a group of people spilled out, laughing. Sarah barely registered them until she saw the auburn hair. It wasn’t confined in a ponytail anymore. Instead, it hung open, midway down to her back.
Lizzie.
Sarah turned quickly, planning to walk the other direction. She could circle back to her apartment the long way. Avoid this entirely.
“Sarah?”
Too late.
Sarah stopped and turned. Lizzie was walking toward her, weaving slightly around other pedestrians. She was still in that cute dress from earlier today.
“Hi,” Sarah said. Her voice came out stiff.
“What are you doing here?”
“Walking. You?”
“I was checking out some of the bars.” Lizzie stopped a few feet away. “Chrisla said I should get to know Duval Street since I’m supposed to help organize a bar crawl in a couple of days.”
“Right. The bar crawl.”
They stood there in awkward silence. Somewhere nearby, someone was playing Jimmy Buffett.
“Can I ask you something?” Lizzie’s voice had an edge to it.
“Sure.”
“Why are you so cold to me? I’m trying really hard to do a good job, but you act like I’m some kind of inconvenience.”
Sarah bristled. “I’m not cold. I’m professional.”
“You’re something, but it’s not professional.” Lizzie crossed her arms. “Every suggestion I make you shoot down.”
“I took your advice on the pool party, didn’t I?”
“Because the board told you to.”
The words hit like a slap. Sarah felt her face go hot. “The board sent you because they want to undermine me. They’re hoping I’ll fail so they can replace me with Derek Mitchell.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“Isn’t it?” Sarah stepped closer, lowering her voice so the passing tourists wouldn’t hear. “You got this position because of your stepfather. Pure nepotism. And I’m the one who gets accused of only having my job because I was married to Billy.”
“My stepfather did me a favor. That’s it.”
“Do you not understand what nepotism is?”
Lizzie’s eyes flashed. “I understand perfectly. I also understand that you worked your way up through Billy’s company. That you earned your position. But you know what? You still got your start because someone cared about you and believed in you. That’s not so different from what happened to me.”
Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but the words stuck in her throat.
She thought about what Billy would say if he could see her now. Treating a young woman the way Sarah had been treated when she was starting out. Cold. Dismissive. Making her feel small.
He wouldn’t like it. Billy had always been kind, even when he was being firm. Especially to people who were trying their best.
Sarah looked at her hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been taking out my frustration on you and that’s not fair.”
Lizzie looked surprised. “Oh. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I’m under a lot of pressure. That’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.” Sarah ran a hand through her hair.
“I get that. I do.” Lizzie’s expression softened. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a really good job. The hotel runs smoothly. The staff respects you. Tonight’s party was amazing.”
“Tonight’s party was amazing because of your ideas.”
“You implemented them. You could have shut me down completely, but you didn’t.”
Sarah managed a small smile. “Stavros would have been disappointed.”
“Still. You took a risk.” Lizzie glanced down the street. “So what are you really doing out here? Besides walking.”
“Honestly? I needed to get out of my apartment.”
“Yeah. Same.” Lizzie hesitated. “I was going to check out a few more bars for the crawl, but I don’t really know which ones to look at. Chrisla gave me a list, but there are like fifty bars on this street.”
Sarah made a decision on the spot. Clearly she could not avoid Lizzie. And she wasn’t’ so sure anymore she wanted to. “I’ll help you. I’ve organized enough bar crawls to know which places work and which ones don’t.”
“Really?”
“Really. But first, have you eaten?”
“Not since lunch.”
“There’s a crepe place two blocks down. They’re still open.”
They walked together down the crowded sidewalk. Sarah pointed out various bars as they passed. The crepe place was small and tucked between two souvenir shops. Inside, it smelled like butter and caramel. They ordered at the counter and found a table by the window.
“So you’re from Brooklyn,” Sarah said once they were settled with their food. She had read her resume more than once, even though she wasn’t going to admit that it was out of a personal interest. “What made you want to study English literature?”
“I want to be a writer. Novels, specifically.” Lizzie took a bite of her Nutella crepe. “I know it’s a long shot, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“What kind of novels?”
“Literary fiction, I guess? I’m working on one now about a family in Brooklyn. Three generations, all the secrets they keep from each other.” She smiled self-consciously.
“We had a huge library when we lived in Aspen. First editions, rare collections, the works. Not so much mine, but my late husband’s.”
“He was a big reader?”
“He was. He got me reading more. Although I prefer audio books. I like being able to do two things at once.”
Lizzie let out a laugh. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Billy always said I wasn’t happy unless both my hands and my feet were doing different projects at the same time.”
“He sounds fun. What was he like?”
Sarah considered the question. People asked about Billy all the time, but more about his business, not about who he was as a person.
“Kind. Genuinely kind, not just polite. He believed people deserved second chances. He took risks on people others wouldn’t hire.
” She paused. “He saw potential in me before I did.”
“You were an assistant, right?”
“At first, I was a maid. But then I became an assistant. Which is a fancy way of saying I answered his phones and scheduled his meetings and tried not to spill coffee on important documents.” Sarah smiled at the memory.
“And you fell in love?”
The question was so direct it caught Sarah off guard. She took a sip of water, buying time. “Our relationship was complicated, but it worked for us.”
Lizzie nodded like she understood, though Sarah doubted she did. How could she?
“What about you?” Sarah asked. “Anyone special back in Brooklyn?”
“No. I dated someone freshman year, but it didn’t work out.” Lizzie picked at her crepe. “I don’t really have time for relationships. Between school and work and trying to write, there aren’t enough hours in the day.”
“I know that feeling.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Outside, a bachelorette party walked past wearing matching t-shirts and plastic tiaras. Someone was playing saxophone somewhere nearby, the notes drifting through the open door.
“Thank you,” Lizzie said suddenly. “For apologizing. And for this.”
“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry again for being so cold. I’ll try to do better.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” She paused, then looked up. “I’m sorry about the kiss at the party, by the way. I forgot there was a kiss at the end. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I had remembered.”
“It’s alright. It was nothing. Ask me beforehand next time though,” she said but she could not meet her eyes.
“Sure thing,” she replied and finished off her crepe.
“Right, now that you have something in your stomach, I think we’re ready. How about I show you some of the best bars around?”
Lizzie nodded and got up. As she did, Sarah’s eyes were drawn to her breasts that looked magnificent in her tight shirt. She gulped, trying not to think of the fact that she’d touched herself while thinking of Lizzie’s body. But damn, it was almost impossible.