Maybe I undervalued role-play.…
Unlike Toni’s perhaps-too-fast approach, Addie explored as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing.
“Just like you’d touch yourself, Addie,” Toni murmured. “Maybe a little gentler so you don’t scratch me. Do you want me to touch you again? At the same time? Reward you for how good you’re going to make me feel…”
The noise Addie made was hungry, and her hands were far from tender.
When Addie said nothing, though, Toni suggested, “Come back to my hotel, Lady Stewart. Let me have you in my bed for tonight.”
Unexpectedly, Addie froze. She jerked her hand away from Toni. “I can’t… this was amistake.”
Then she darted under Toni’s arm, spun on her delicate boot heel, and fled, clutching Toni’s blazer closed over her damp cotton nightie.
“Damn it.” Toni jerked up her trousers and stumbled following after her, but by the time she got outside, Addie—and Toni’s best blazer—were long gone.
Chapter 4Toni
Toni had been just this side of tipsy, and after a few minutes of standing in the rain looking for Adelaine, Toni headed back to the hotel. She wasn’t about to go back to the bar or pace the rainy streets.
I hope she’s okay.
Toni would never be a person people whispered about like they did her father—or her mother. Neither the trouble nor “that poor woman.” Chin up, steps steady, she made her way to her hotel room.
No beautiful Victorian damsels in the lobby.
Toni paused, considering a drink, but lobby bars at a conference felt like desperation, and even the flicker of hope that Addie was a conference attendee felt dangerous. If she had been a student, Toni would have never touched her.
She said she was a stage actor. It was all an act.
Despite herself, Toni still looked around as she walked through the hotel.
No beautiful Victorian damsels in the elevator.
Toni smothered a sigh and went to her room. Inside, she flopped on her bed and grabbed her laptop. She was on the verge of searching online for “Adelaine Stewart” and “Addie Stewart” and even “Victorian plays” near the address of the bar. Addie was a convincing Victorian.
“What am I even doing?” Toni muttered.
A fleeting encounter in a garden with a beautiful erratic strangerwas not reason to go chasing after her. If anything, it was another reason to go home. Toni didn’t chase after women—or get their last names or numbers or emails—even after far more naked encounters. There was no logical reason to chase afterthiswoman.
Toni packed everything but her laptop into her bags and cracked a mini-bottle from the hotel room fridge. The price of hotel liquor was absurd, but in that moment—dangerously in debt, fixated on a stranger she’d never see again, and imagining the magic of a ten- or even fifteen-thousand-dollar book deal—Toni wanted one more drink in her system as she sent the manuscript to Emily.
She opened an email, attached the book, and typed out: “If you hate it, just delete this email. Will not make it to breakfast after all.” Then she jabbedSEND.
What if it worked? What if I sold a book?
The thought of it working was irrational, but Toni had enough of her father’s dreamer genes to let herself imagine it for a moment. A solid deal. Maybe enough to cover a year of her mom’s care. Maybe enough to mean that Toni could just focus on her teaching career for one year.
Maybe if I found Addie, tomorrow we could celeb—
Toni stopped herself. There was no reason to think of Addie. She was a woman at a bar. Toni would never see her again.
But if I looked her up…
The temptation was undeniable. Toni typed in Addie’s name and found a page with a headshot and stage credits. There was a contact page, social media links, but the urge to send a quick email changed nothing.I just need to know she got home safely.
From:History Toni
To:Addie
