One of the few benefits of growing up in her dysfunctional family was that she’d learned to pretend. Until she was eighteen, she’d pretended she was a sweet, het, polite girl. It was that or face the wrath of her mother. Over the years, Kaelee and her sister, Betsey, referred to their mom as the “Ice Witch.” Julia Alden was a Southern debutante, but under her practiced poise she was akin to any villain. Undoubtedly, Julia had ice in her veins, and blood on her hands.
But Kaelee had escaped the gilded prison where Julia had been her warden.
Now she was living some version of her dream. She’d legally changed her name from Sabrina Alden to Kaelee Carpenter, finished a BA in history and an MA in history, and had done so without drawing much from her accounts. She’d managed to earn scholarships for undergrad, assistantships for the first part of grad school, and so far, she’d had funding for most of her PhD, too. It was only this term that she’d paid out of pocket.
Because I was busy finishing a novel.
The money Kaelee had pulled out had then been replaced by the money from the book deal. All told, Kaelee was pretty sure she’d proven her parents wrong—not that she ever would go back home and tell them that.
Kaelee shoved her unexpectedly maudlin thoughts back into the mental box where they lived. That life was not hers. She’d left those people behind, along with their surname.
A quick walk later, Kaelee dropped her manuscript on the seat next to her, briefly debating whether to shove it into the trunk. The truth was, though, that she didn’t want to leave it in the car. Her bag—with laptop, toothbrush, and clean clothes for after her planned gym workout—would be on her shoulder. Her book could go in that bag, too.
She let her mind wander to more pleasant topics as she headed toward the heart of the city. Rush hour was well in swing. Tourists who couldn’t navigate the streets around the museums darted between cars, and those in their cars blocked the box in a sort of single-minded selfishness that made Kaelee reconsider her hookup. Driving in this part of the city was a bit of a clusterfuck.
Is the faceless woman worth it?
Briefly, Kaelee debated heading to the gym instead, but Marie was sexy in a way that hit all of Kaelee’s buttons: tiny, curvy, and direct. She might be worth the traffic… hopefully. Sex was typically more effective at blunting the edge of Kaelee’s anxiety than working out was.
By the time Kaelee reached the overpriced hotel, Kaelee wondered if Marie was a wife who wanted to try something new.
As long as the husband isn’t here, too…
Kaelee had been too mentally exhausted to ask the usual questions on the Sappho’s Kiss Society app, so she would need a minute to get that answered before she went to anyone’s room. She wasn’t interested in any surprise extras in the bed. She’d never been intimate with a man intentionally, and she wasn’t going to start now.
After she pulled up to the valet parking, she hopped out of her car and grabbed her bag. She stuffed her manuscript in it and then handed her keys to the valet with the sort of confidence she’d seen her father use time and again and took her claim ticket. So what if her car was not perfect? She was stretching her money for a lifetime,and DC had decent public transportation. Her ten-year-old BMW ran well, despite the odometer’s increasingly dire digits.
“Thanks,” Kaelee told the valet. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be. Meeting a friend for drinks.”
As she said it, Kaelee decided that she was, in fact, going to pause for a drink. She was all for clear communication about the goals of the evening, and tonight, she didn’t want to go from “hello” to naked with no buildup between. Though BDSM wasn’t her usual thing, she had dabbled enough to appreciate the focus on boundaries and consent that was prevalent there—and had expanded that to her life at large. As a woman who had had her own lack of consent ignored in the past, she was extra focused on making sure anyone she was naked with had considered their own lines.
Kaelee strolled into the vast open space of the hotel lobby with the comfort that came from familiarity. She might be wearing faded jeans and well-worn shoes, but every childhood trip in her life had involved five-star hotels. After a while, they all started to blur together, and despite going on a decade of living a simpler life, this was unchanged. This could have been any five-star hotel; they all had the same vibe: polished floors, ostentatious floral bouquets, uniformed staff, and an overall ambiance of privilege.
A part of Kaelee hated that she was comfortable there. Habit was powerful, though, and she knew how to move through these spaces. Alden money insisted she could and would be able to act like shebelongedto such places, and eleven years of freedom didn’t negate eighteen years of training. Her clothes were thrift- or consignment-store buys, and her car was nearing the age of replacement, but she knew how to claim space in bougie places.
A quick glance around the lobby revealed the woman she’d been messaging earlier. The picture Marie had sent had been chest-down, and her profile picture on the app was vaguely discreet. A glance at her made it very obvious that Marie was not hiding her face because she was unattractive in any way. She had a face that wouldn’tbe out of place on an antique doll or in an old noir movie. A lush mouth, excessively long lashes, and apple cheeks made Marie an almost picture-perfect femme fatale. Her hair, which was a nondescript shade of brown, was twisted up into a low bun. At a guess, Kaelee would put her age as thirty to thirty-five or so. So at most, six years older than Kaelee’s twenty-nine years.
She stood, and Kaelee realized that Marie’s boots ended in sharp heels that added a good three or four inches to her height. Even so, Kaelee was certain she could lift Marie into her arms with ease. The vision of doing just that was interrupted by the fact that this gorgeous stranger was marching forward with a sway that would charm cobras.
“Marie.” The luscious brunette held out her hand to Kaelee as she neared.
“Lee.” Kaelee took the woman’s hand in hers, pleased at the strength of her grip. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Marie gave her an unreadable look. “If you want one, sure. If not…”
“I do. It’s been a long day with terrible traffic between there and here, so I could stand a moment to… decompress.” Kaelee paused. She wasn’t sure what precisely she wanted out of that drink and pause, but she wanted to take a beat before going upstairs. Marie’s mouth tightened in a pout, though, so Kaelee added, “I’m not having a case of nerves. I can’t fathom anyone changing their mind after seeing you.”
“Thank you.” Marie nodded before gesturing toward the bar. She looked like she felt chastised. “It’s fine if youdochange your mind, of course. I wouldn’t want a bed partner who wasn’t interested.”
“I’m not changing my mind. I simply don’t want a beautiful stranger to have to deal with my stressful day,” Lee said. “Lead me to the bar, and then to your room if you aren’t having cold feet by then.”
“No cold feet. No coldanything.” Marie walked across the lobby with purpose. Whatever she did when she wasn’t here, Marie was awoman in charge. Kaelee’s interest grew at that realization. She liked an assertive woman more than she wanted to admit, and she liked to be the one to reduce such a woman to quivering.
“Will you be offended if I admit that I like walking behind you?” Kaelee said lightly.
A laugh was her only answer, but Marie’s sway grew a little slower, as if she was agreeing to slow things down a touch.
Kaelee followed her to a shadowed corner table. “Would you like me to go to the bar to order?”
