Chapter 10

“Nick, you can’t be afraid to touch me.”

“Sorry,” Nick put his hand more firmly on Pilar’s waist. “I’m just afraid of what I’m going to touch if I’m not looking.”

Pilar nodded and pointed her head towards his feet. “If you grab the wrong thing, just calmly move your hand to the right place and continue. Getting accidentally groped once in a while is part of teaching ballroom.”

They went through the steps again. As beginners went, Nick wasn’t too bad. He was very earnest, not terribly clumsy, and conscientiously not grabby. Pilar had started teaching ballroom as a way to meet her own generation of Stones, but it had also become a tool for judging their character. Her read on Nick was that he was overly cautious and too worried about any possible perception that he might be taking advantage of the situation.

As they took a break, he towelled his face off. They were up on the roof, working under a party tent. Large oscillating fans moved the sluggish air, but it was the hottest part of a hot and humid day. “So, I know it’s only been two sessions, but do you have any idea how long it’ll be before I can get out on the floor without embarrassing myself?”

Pilar took a long drink from her water bottle, then splashed her face before toweling off. “That depends on the floor and what you try to do. Most of embarrassing yourself is trying to show off with something you do poorly. We have cousins that I could embarrass myself by trying keep up with their quick step. I’m good, but some Stones actually make a living dancing.”

Nick took the water bottle from her. “Do you ever wish you could do that?”

“Sometimes when I’m practicing, I really want to push and see how good I could be if I did it all the time.” Pilar sat down. “But, I like the building trade. You go from a drawing and a giant pile of work orders to something real and solid that could last for hundreds of years. Do you know Saint Ignatius Hospital on twenty-eighth?”

Nick shook his head. “I know almost nothing of the city.”

“It’s a little hospital the Ferrari-Stones built after nine-eleven. My father built our business for the first ten years without ever bidding on anything the Stones built. Saint Ignatius was a huge project and right in his wheelhouse though - and the Ferrari-Stones don’t care about the Rodriguez-Stones one way or another. So, he bid, got a big hunk of the project, and spent the next three years working himself to death to make it happen. It almost bankrupted us a couple of times, but now, I can walk along the street and point out parts of the buildings where I still remember finding a temp worker to fill in for a mason who had to stay home with his sick mother or a place where the front steps are a slightly different color than the facing wall because a supplier ran out of the granite we were using and we had to source more from a quarry in Maine that had closed a year earlier.”

Nick looked at her. “You helped with that kind of thing? You must have been...”

“Fourteen when the project was finished,” said Pilar. “My father bit off more than he could chew with Saint Ignatius. He had to hire people, take out loans, buy equipment. The first year, he slept maybe two or three hours a night. There were problems with the funding. Some people overcommitted in the moment and then didn’t come through. I started to help and he didn’t tell me not to.”

There was something funny in the way Nick regarded her after she said that. Pilar found herself looking away and a surprising heat coming into her cheeks.

“So, I guess you’re another one of those dancing, modeling, hospital building triple threats New York is just packed with.” Nick said dryly.

“We’ve built other things since then,” said Pilar. “But, I wasn’t so hands-on. I’m more in the business development side of things now.”

“I don’t know what that is,” said Nick.

“Well...” Pilar stretched out so that the air from the closest fan could reach more of her skin. “When I was fifteen, I realized that my father was cutting us off from the whole family and he didn’t have to. So, I took it upon myself to get to know the Stones here in New York and the most important ones around the world so I could figure out which ones would do business with us and which ones we should or shouldn’t do business with. Practically every job we’ve taken in the last ten years, we found out about because I knew the person planning it or his son.”

Nick looked at her. “Is that what you’re doing here? Deciding if I’m somebody your family should be doing business with?”

Pilar hadn’t realized how much she was revealing, but she nodded slowly. “You’re planning to be a philanthropist. Philanthropists, particularly ones with a lot of money, tend to build things.”

“And have you made a decision as to whether you should or shouldn’t do business with me?” Nick asked. There was a new note in his voice now, one Pilar hadn’t heard before.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “You’re honest. You don’t seem inclined to take advantage of being the richest guy in the room. If you were a subcontractor, I’d definitely want to work with you.” Nick took a long sip of his water and didn’t interrupt, so Pilar went on. “But, I don’t think you understand what you have. I think you could overcommit with the best of intentions. The people who funded Saint Ignatius absolutely meant well, but when they didn’t come through with the money they promised, my father was stuck paying for idle workers and loans on equipment he couldn’t afford. He spent ten years building his business from nothing and it could have been gone like that.” She snapped her fingers.

Quietly, Nick said, “That’s a valid concern. I do feel like, with all that money, I should be able to fix the whole world.”

He seemed disinclined to say more. Pilar said, “I do like you, Nick. And I’m enjoying teaching you to dance. Even if we never build anything together, I hope we’re friends.”

Nick nodded. “I spent about an hour talking to Jesse the first day I came into the city to see my lawyers. I know you don’t like him.”

“I like Jesse,” Pilar corrected Nick. “I just don’t think I should work with him.”

“I get that. He kind of lives on another planet from the rest of us.” Nick closed his eyes in thought for a moment. “I had an hour to talk to him and I didn’t really know what to ask yet. I asked him about dealing with women who knew you were rich.”

“Gold diggers?”

Nick nodded. “That was the term I used. Jesse didn’t like it very much. He said that everybody who came into your life, whether you were rich or poor, was going to want something from you and that it was a mistake to cut people out just because you figured out what they wanted. He also said I could miss a lot of life if I worried about people wanting things from me instead discovering what they wanted, what they had to offer, and if both couldn’t be accommodated.”

Pilar didn’t like being lumped in with gold diggers, but she couldn’t deny she wanted something from Nick and was trying to charm her way into getting it. She asked, “What do you want from me, Nick?”

Nick rose, “For now, dance lessons, more information about the Stones, and, if you have advice on how to structure my commitments so that you’d be comfortable being on the other end of them, I’d like to hear it.”

A little frisson went down Pilar’s spine from the way Nick said “for now.” At eighteen, he was seven years and her entire adult life so far younger than her, but she was aware of how he looked at her and even a young male dancer as conscientious about personal space as Nick couldn’t hide his desire from his partner for very long. Somewhat more marriage minded than her peers, Pilar usually chose lovers a few years older than herself, knowing Stone men normally married women a few years younger.

She wasn’t opposed to the idea of a less serious relationship with a younger man. She’d just never had one. What Nick asked in return for the access she had was easy to grant. Pilar decided that, if she wanted more from Nick, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine offering more in return.

Cat sat on Arwen’s bed while the younger woman worked through her closet. Arwen came out with a gauzy, white blouse embroidered with flowers on a hanger over a green velvet skirt. “I could swear I have a better outfit than this, but I must have left it home.”

“Can you describe it?” Cat asked.

“It’s ... green and it makes my tits look bigger,” said Arwen.

Cat laughed. “Was it like anything Liv Tyler wore when she was Arwen?”

“No. I don’t look anything like Liv Tyler.” Arwen threw the outfit up near the head of the bed. “If I try to look like her, I’m just going to look like I’m trying too hard.”

Cat nodded. “You’re a more gamine Arwen.”

Arwen sat on the bed between Cat and the clothes. “Gamine. I like that. I’m not flat-chested. I’m gamine.”

“I like ‘thick’ myself,” said Cat. “Kim Kardashian’s one genuine contribution to humanity might be popularizing that word. Before I had ‘thick,’ all I had were a lot of polite words for ‘fat.’”

“You’re not fat!” Arwen exclaimed. “I would kill to have your curves.”

“And you’re not flat-chested,” said Cat. “Your curves are really quite lovely.”

“So, what do I wear so that you can paint them?” Arwen looked at the clothes spread out around the room.

“You could wear nothing,” said Cat. “I’d add a few strategically-placed leaves.”

“Not for a painting I’m giving my dad,” said Arwen. “I want the Wicked to hate it, but I don’t want her to have an excuse to hide it in the attic.”

“Maybe one for Lev, then,” said Cat. “I could do a whole series of Arwen as Arwen.”

“I’m ... not sure Nick would commission that,” said Arwen slowly.

“Because it’s for Lev?” Cat asked as casually as she could manage.

“I guess he might. Nick hasn’t been as into me as he was when we were in Brownfield Mills. Here, I’m just one of the guys.” Arwen sighed. “Did you know he asked me out when we were fifteen?”

Cat did. Three of Nick’s friends had mentioned it to her at the churrascaria. It was apparently a central event of their high school years. “You said no?”

“I had to.” Arwen went back to her closet to dig deeper. “The Wicked and her Thrall have an unbreakable no-dating policy. She believes in courtship or some stupid shit like that.”

“But, they changed their mind for Lev?”

Arwen turned to shake her head. “No. I thought I just wore them down into pretending that they didn’t know Lev and I were seeing each other, but my father actually told me that I didn’t have to start having sex just because I was here in the city with no adult supervision. I couldn’t even count how many things were wrong with that.”

“You know, we could buy you something new to wear for the portrait,” Cat offered. “The commission has a fee plus expenses structure.”

Arwen leaned back against the closet frame and crossed her arms. “I don’t want to take advantage of Nick.”

“So, not Versace then,” said Cat. “I bet there are a lot reasonably-priced possibilities - maybe a nice, green halter dress.”

Arwen gave a faint nod. “I think I saw something like that on Mercer Street yesterday.”

In the lounge, Dennis sat holding his guitar like he’d been playing. He and Emily were laughing about something. They didn’t look up as Cat and Arwen passed.

In the elevator, Arwen shook her head. “They’re all falling in love with her.”

“Emily?” Cat asked.

As they passed through the lobby, Arwen shook her head. “Did you ever look at some perfect-looking woman on the cover of a magazine who didn’t even seem to be the same species as you and comfort yourself by thinking that she doesn’t look like that in real life? She looks like that all the time - with a broken ankle on crutches! I just want to pinch her.”

“She is very attractive,” acknowledged Cat. “But, they’re not all in love with her. Are they? Lev is clearly very into you.”

“Lev and I can finally have sex without worrying about getting caught or arrested,” Arwen said as they crossed Lafayette Street. “But he likes all of them - Emily, Kiki, Jazz, Kaylee...”

“Casey,” Cat corrected her.

“Right. And they like him. I can see the way they react to him.” Arwen set a brisk pace like she was trying to put some distance between herself and the loft.

“He’s a very attractive young man,” said Cat. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time other girls have noticed him.”

“Well, no,” Arwen turned to face her while they waited for a traffic light to change. “But these girls are so pretty.”

“And you don’t want to share your boyfriend with them,” Cat said, making it sound like a statement.

“I don’t want him to disappear under a pile of lingerie models, never to be seen again,” said Arwen. “If there was any sharing going on, I wouldn’t be a part of it.”

“Putting aside the question of relative prettiness, you know you have a lot of advantages.” Cat asked. “You don’t think I’m the most beautiful woman Hall ever met. Do you?”

“You might be,” said Arwen. “But, aren’t you worried about him being over there with those models?”

Cat gave a sharp laugh. “No, but I think he’s a little worried about me.”

Arwen stopped walking and turned to look at Cat like she wasn’t quite sure she’d correctly interpreted the other woman’s words. Cat laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make this conversation about me.”

Arwen covered her eyes with her hands. “God, how many stupid things did I say to you?”

“Nothing stupid - just outside of my experience,” said Cat. “I’m used to it. I didn’t have a very traditional upbringing.”

“So, are you in love with Emily, too?” Arwen narrowed her eyes.

“Not in love, but I get it.” Cat looked around. “I bet one of these little restaurants serves coffee. Would you like to grab a cup before we go clothes shopping?”

They sat on the patio of a little Cuban restaurant and drank coffee while Cat explained her own life and her relationship with Hall and Casey. At first, Arwen asked questions, then she just sat and listened. When Cat wound down, she said, “What would happen to your careers if this got out?”

“There’s no real precedent,” said Cat. “At the very least, people would look at Hall differently and the ones who already call him a cuck would keep calling him a cuck. But, Sci Fi fandom can be very progressive. They might just roll with it or they might turn on him. We figure it’s only a matter of time. People know he married me and I’ve never been discreet about my own war with heteronormativity. I’m the go-to when a con wants a ‘serious panel’ about sex, but needs somebody guaranteed to say something to titillate the muggles. People know my ex-girlfriends and my ex-boyfriends and they know I married Hall. If they haven’t figured out that he’s a deviant yet, it’s only because they think he’s made an honest woman out of me, not the other way around.”

“Is that how you self-identify ... as a deviant?” Arwen ventured.

“I identify as pansexual and polyamorous or I tell people I don’t like labels, which is true as far as it goes. I want other people who think like me to be able to recognize me. I don’t want people who misuse those labels to be able to dehumanize me with them. I think that being willing to self-identify as a deviant shows a certain open-mindedness that I look for in the people I care about.” Cat said. It was a speech she’d given more than once before.

She didn’t expect Arwen to cry. It was only a single tear that rolled down from the corner of her eye, but she made no effort to wipe it away. “God! I’m pathetic. I’m not anything. I’m not deviant. I’m not interesting. I’m pretty, but I’m not that pretty. I’ve never done anything interesting. I’m just a generic, production-line high school graduate. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

Cat reached out and touched Arwen’s cheek lightly, just enough to make the other woman open her eyes. She said, “I can’t tell you what you are, Arwen. But, you’re something. Lev is with you and Nick wants you here. Of all the people he knows, he only thought five of you were worth building the loft for. If you really don’t know why you’re special, let your friends tell you.”

Arwen closed her eyes again and nodded. “He did build it for us, you know. There are no kitchens in any of the apartments.”

“Kitchens?” Cat didn’t follow.

“Nick wants a dorm experience in the loft,” said Arwen. “In his mind, that means shared meals. So, he had those apartments built without kitchens. He probably spent a fortune on them and I don’t think he could have rented them out if we said no to him. How many people do you know who, if you gave them a billion dollars, would do that for their friends?”

Cat said she wasn’t sure she knew anyone who would do that. Privately, she thought that, if she had Nick’s fortune, she would do something far more profound, but she kept that thought to herself.

Casey was still sprawled across the hotel sheets when Hall emerged from the shower with a towel around his waist. When he sat on the edge of the bed, she said, “You two fight dirty, you know.”

Hall twisted so he could kiss her bare spine. “Do we?”

“You’re just relentless. Do you know, at one point, I came so hard, I got a cramp in my foot.” Casey protested. “Did you two touch each other at all last night? It felt like all the attention was on me all the time.”

“You didn’t get all the attention, but we were both very happy to see you again.” Hall moved down to her feet and gripped one, massaging it with his thumbs.

By some device, he’d found not only the correct foot, but also the exact spot to drive his thumb into. Casey gave out a groan of pleasure. “Oh, God. If you keep doing that, I might just come again.”

Hall continued to massage her foot. “Unlikely by itself, but you could help the process along if you liked.”

Casey’s eyes widened in surprise, “Hall!”

Hall massaged for a while before saying. “You don’t have to, of course. But, I think it might be an enjoyable combination for both of us.”