Chapter 57

Pilar didn’t want to admit to herself how relieved she was that her father’s work truck wasn’t parked along the circular driveway in front of the house she’d lived in through most of high school and ever since. It was the middle of the day and Jorge would almost certainly be on a job site for hours yet.

After their very heated discussion they’d had while Pilar was flying somewhere over Southeast Asia, she wasn’t looking forward to talking to her father face-to-face again. But more immediately, she was just happy to have some time to herself. Pilar couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone for even an hour. She loved being with Nick and surrounding herself with his friends and lovers, but doing so made her feel like she had to be “on” all the time. Coming home, particularly to an empty house, meant she didn’t have to be a sex goddess for a few hours.

The thought made her smile as she mounted the stairs to her bedroom. Pilar really liked being able to think of herself as a sex goddess most of the time. It enabled her to make the decisions that had brought her such pleasure in the past weeks even as the possibility of saying yes made the blood pound in her ears and adrenaline course through her. In those moments, she really did feel a touch of the divine. But at her base, she was mortal. She needed downtime.

In her bedroom, she stripped out of the jeans and camisole she’d worn for the ride out in favor of loose sweats and a tank top. The jeans were a little too tight for heavy lifting and the top too silky to sweat in without it staining. They were goddess clothes, meant to be seen in and to invoke goddess-like feelings in herself.

The bedroom she stood in now had been hers since she was sixteen. Like the house, it had always been an awkward fit. Jorge had acquired the white elephant (as he frequently called it) along with a company called D&G Construction that had built it for a client who ultimately couldn’t afford to pay them for it. Offering too much credit had sunk D&G, leaving them floundering. Before the acquisition, D&G had been one of Rodriguez-Stone & Daughter’s strongest regional competitors. Jorge’s acquisition of the company had been a mercy killing of sorts, bringing in badly-needed workers, contracts, and equipment that had let RS&D grow rapidly over the next few years. It had also been a risk Pilar recommended against taking, having been burned by taking on too much risk at once before.

Deciding what to take with her to her new apartment in the Loft brought back memories of doing the same thing with the bedroom she’d grown up in twelve years ago in order to move here. That time, she could have taken everything she’d ever accumulated. It was only a slight exaggeration to say that her old bedroom could have fit into the walk-in closet she had now.

If she didn’t mind risking the clutter, she could just tell the movers to pack up everything and bring it all to New York. But, it would be a tight squeeze. In spite of the incredibly-generous-for-New-York size of the apartments in the Loft, trying to cram everything she’d accumulated over the last eight years would be awkward and definitely wouldn’t fit the image she wanted to project. Plus, she had to remind herself, she hadn’t even known Nick a full three months yet. They might be making the biggest of big plans together, but it was good to keep a solid, livable home base somewhere other than right under his roof.

She wondered if her father would let her keep her rooms here. Considering how much of the house was empty, it would be spiteful of him to begrudge her the space, but Jorge Manuel Rodriguez-Stone was certainly a man capable of cutting off his own nose to spite his face. And the fight they’d had over the phone when she asked for her fair share of RS&D Construction had been the biggest one they’d ever had. Even the multi-day siege to get him to start doing business with the Stones again hadn’t gotten quite so acrimonious.

Still, if she’d burned that bridge, but there were still fences to mend, she would have to untangle that metaphor and address the underlying problem another day. Today, she would focus on what she needed to bring with her to the Loft.

She started with the dresses - elegant sexy, wild sexy, and casual sexy went into the pile she was setting aside for the movers. Anything she’d worn so often that she was starting to think of it as “comfortable” stayed in the closet. Thongs and dress-up bras went onto the pile along with a small pack of big black panties she hadn’t worn yet. Playwear she packed into a cardboard box and taped up herself. She took all of it even though she’d only worn a few pieces. Geoff was just kinky enough to think of himself as kinky, but she’d discovered early on that she had to tread carefully in that department or risk trampling his delicate male ego.

The pieces he’d liked, she left ... except for the two replica Catholic school uniforms she’d had made when he’d admitted to finding them to be a turn-on - one that was based on her actual winter uniform of varying shades of blue from high school and one in the more “traditional” plaid skirt and starched white top that had become so fetishized. Nick might be much more open-minded than Geoff when it came to kinks, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy the old classics.

Having gotten onto the subject of Geoff’s kinks reminded Pilar she had about a half-dozen of her ex-boyfriend’s button-down shirts in her closet. More than anything, he’d enjoyed seeing Pilar dressed in one of them with little or nothing else. The memory of a few of those nights warmed her and brought back some of the old feelings from when their relationship had been at its peak.

She had a fleeting thought as to whether Nick would particularly enjoy fucking her while she wore one of Geoff’s shirts. She didn’t think Nick was the type, but she’d seen a side of him in Singapore that liked lording over her ex ... at least a little. And she knew herself well enough to have no doubt she would comply if asked. It was probably better to remove the temptation.

Before she could change her mind, she texted Geoff asking him if he wanted the shirts back. He texted back almost immediately, “No, give them to a worthy cause.”

It was a classic Geoff response - helpful on the surface, but a nuisance underneath. It made Pilar realize that she should probably give away half of her own stuff. Now she had two piles to create.

Workout clothes went into the “coming to NYC” pile. Dance clothes would, but she hadn’t bought anything new since deciding to focus on construction years earlier and her old clothes were well-worn. Some of them went on the donations pile while others went on a third pile of things that she would be too embarrassed by their raggedy condition to even give them away.

She winced at the thought of replacing her whole dance wardrobe. Dance clothes and competitive costumes were expensive. The thought had barely entered her mind before she remembered Tanvi pulling her aside this morning to inform her that Nick had made a sizable “relocation budget” available to her. Pilar had mixed feelings about that, but many of the feelings were good and she’d decided to focus on those.

“Moving out, mija?” her father asked, breaking her momentary reverie.

Pilar froze, afraid to look up before her heart stopped pounding in surprise or to see the look on her father’s face. “Packing up a few things to bring with me to New York.”

Jorge looked around at the three growing piles. “Are you taking everything?”

Pilar shook her head, pointed at each pile in turn, and described its purpose. When she finally looked up, she caught a fleeting smile from Jorge, but it faded when he asked, “Are you leaving anything here?”

Pilar took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I’m planning to ... if that’s all right.”

“Of course, mija. You always have a place to come home to.”

Pilar lowered her eyes so that Jorge wouldn’t see the emotions welling up in them. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to hear those words. Her father caught her reaction anyway. “You didn’t think I was going to throw you out for yelling at me, did you?”

“I didn’t just yell. I called you a Neanderthal and ungrateful and...” Pilar started to remind him.

Jorge raised his hands to stop her before she iterated through all the regrettable things she’d said. “You called me many things, Pilar. But you’ve still got nothing on your mother and I never considered throwing her out.” He sighed. “She left of her own accord.”

Pilar felt the old sadness rise in her chest. She’d been four when her mother left and Jorge had never come out and said she chose to leave before today. He hadn’t had to. Seeing the look in his eyes, Pilar felt like she could take the risk of saying, “You are a Neanderthal, you know?”

Jorge laughed. “There are worse things to be than old-fashioned, mija. I should know. I have been several of them in my time.”

She allowed herself a small smile. “It does mean I’m going to spend the next four years putting all of my effort into taking as much of RS&D away from you as I can, you know? A more modern man might have gotten off cheaper by just giving me what I asked for.”

Jorge smiled and shrugged. “I hope that’s true, Pilar. The more you earn, the happier I’ll be.”

Pilar raised an eyebrow. “Even if I take all of it?”

That got another laugh. “Particularly if you take all of it. In four years, I will be more than ready to retire and let you run things or hire someone else to do it. Fifty-three is still young enough to learn how to play golf and chase pretty girls, I think.”

Pilar sat on her bed and gave a derisive snort. “You’ll never retire. Didn’t you once tell me they would pry your clipboard from your cold, dead hands?”

Jorge shook his head. “That was when you wanted me to use one of those glorified cell phones to track all of my work. And I might just keep the clipboard for when I do retire. I don’t always know what to do with my hands when they are empty.”

Pilar rolled her eyes over Jorge pretending he didn’t know what a tablet was and went back to sorting through her clothes. “Maybe I’ll leave you one percent just so you can’t retire, then.”

Jorge gripped his chest in mock-pain. “You are a cruel and creative woman.”

“There are worse things to be.” Pilar shrugged, then after a momentary pause added. “I should know.”

Jorge picked up a t-shirt she’d thrown on the donations pile. It was one she hadn’t worn since she was a teenager. “We should always be whatever is required to make us happy.” Absentmindedly, he folded the t-shirt. “Are you happy to be moving in with Nick?”

Pilar paused in the middle of reaching into the back of her closet. “Mostly happy, a little nervous. We haven’t known each other very long. Of course, I will have my own apartment. So, I won’t be...” She paused before she started rambling. “Yes, I’m very happy. It’s a very different world that wraps itself around Nick and I find myself not wanting to miss a minute of it.”

Jorge nodded thoughtfully. “I have heard rumors about what goes on around Nick. I don’t listen to them, of course. But people bring them to me.”

Pilar pulled out the dress she’d been trying to reach. “Do you want me to tell you if they’re true or not?”

“Ai, no!” Jorge again held up his hands as if he could physically stop the flow of words. “Mija, do you know your abuelo once threatened me with a shotgun?”

Pilar’s eyes widened. “Abuelo Pepe?”

Jorge gave an emphatic nod. “Yes, just after your mother and I were engaged, but before we’d told anyone. He thought I was ... corrupting his Ana and he was very unhappy about it. If she hadn’t had the ring to show him, it might have gone very badly.”

“Sweet old Abuelo Pepe?” Pilar shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“He wasn’t so sweet or so old at the time,” Jorge sat on the end of her bed. “And he didn’t know much about me except that I was some rich boy from New York and he thought I was leading his sweet, sheltered daughter into all sorts of trouble. He had no idea how backwards he had it.”

Pilar coughed into her fist. “Not sure I want to know what you’re talking about.”

Jorge laughed uproariously. “See how you like it? You were really quite indignant about my not wanting to know what you did with your friends to help drum up business. No man wants to hear the details of his daughter’s love life any more than she wants to hear about his.”

Pilar felt her ears redden. “Uh ... that may be a fair point. Can we ... call a cease-fire on the detail sharing, then?”

“Fair enough. I didn’t start it.” Jorge spread his hands in a gesture of equanimity.

Pilar sighed and went back to sorting her clothes. “I didn’t really. I hardly told you anything at all.”

“You told me enough to know I didn’t need you to tell me more.” Jorge countered, one hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck in a universal sign of discomfort. “I’m glad you haven’t grown up to be a nun, Pilar. I see ... so much of your mother in you.”

“Didn’t we just make a truce on sharing too many details?” Pilar protested.

Jorge shook his head and rose from the bed. “That was hardly details. I was just going to grab a beer from the kitchen. You want one?”

“Sure,” said Pilar. She got back to work for a few minute and was interrupted by a chirp from her phone just as Jorge came back with two open beers.

“Is that him?” Jorge handed her one of the beers.

Pilar looked at her screen. “Nope, it’s Sarah Masterson-Stone. I went to her wedding with Nick during the summer.”

“And that’s how your generation sends thank you notes?” Jorge teased.

Pilar sipped her beer. “She and her new husband are staying at the Loft. They just got back from their honeymoon in Greece.”

They chatted about nothing in particular while Pilar texted back and forth with Sarah. When she got one particular text, she laughed. Jorge raised an eyebrow. Before he could ask, she shook her head. “Whatever she wants, she doesn’t want to talk about it via text - which means you probably won’t want to know about it anyway.”

Jorge refused to rise to the bait. “I’ve been meaning to mention ... I was thinking about coming out to New York next weekend when all the cousins are supposed to be there.”

“You want to see Hamilton?” Pilar asked dubiously.

Jorge shook his head. “I was never much for history and I hate rap music. I can’t imagine combining them is going to make anything good. I just thought it would be nice to meet some cousins, maybe drum up some business for the company. How would you feel about that?”

Pilar pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Can we agree not to step on each other’s leads? I don’t want there to be any question of who brought in which business after the fact.”

Jorge took a long swig of his beer before answering. “I’ll do you one better. Any lead that comes from the weekend, you tell me you had any part of it, we’ll call it your deal and count it towards the business you brought in.”

“That’s ... very generous of you.” Pilar didn’t bother to hide the note of suspicion in her voice.

“I’m a generous man.” Jorge paused for another drink. “I imagine I might meet Nick at some point during the weekend?”

Pilar smirked. Jorge’s generosity made more sense now. While she probably couldn’t keep her father away from Nick if he was really determined to meet the young man, she could certainly poison Nick against him - to some degree, she probably already had ... She would have to do some gap-filling between now and when they met if Jorge wasn’t going to get a cold reception. Rather than make any promises too quickly, she parried. “You’re not planning to bring a shotgun, are you?”

Jorge shook his head. “He’s probably got a ton of security. I’d never get it in the front door.”

Pilar laughed and gestured a toast with her beer bottle. “I’ll let him know to expect you.”

Kiki wasn’t expecting anyone to call her. Kiki didn’t do expectations. Her lovers were their own people and even thinking of them as her lovers was problematic. For all she knew, she’d already had sex with Nick, Pilar, Emily, or Tanvi for the last time. After all, they’d been away from her for weeks. They might well have forgotten her completely.

Still, she was keenly aware that they were planning to return to New York today or tomorrow and kept her phone close at hand just in case it rang. That was the only reason she was able to scoop it up the moment Emily texted her, “U have any plans 2nite?”

And since the conversation was probably too much for thumb typing, Kiki called instead of messaging. “Hey, are you guys back?”

“Just walked in the door of my apartment like ... five minutes ago,” said Emily. “I was going to text you as soon as I unpacked, but apparently Nick has people who will do that for us if we mention it out loud, so I’m just sitting in my living room watching SSCS people handle my dainties.”

“The ones you currently have on or...” Kiki asked before she could help herself.

Emily laughed. “No, I put those on in London like ... a lifetime ago. I actually peeled them off before I texted you so I can get in the shower.”

“So, you’re sitting there naked while Nick’s people unpack your stuff?” Kiki asked, intrigued.

That got a harder laugh. “No, although I probably could be and they wouldn’t bat an eye. I’m wearing a robe.”

Kiki got a clear mental image. Somehow, the idea of Emily naked under a robe was even more enticing than just imagining her naked. “So ... uh, you wanted to know if I had any plans tonight?”

“Yeah, I thought we could catch up now that we’re both in America ... maybe Netflix and Chill?” Emily offered.

Kiki wanted to ask if Emily knew what that phrase meant, but something about the way her voice rose a little too much at the end of the question suggested she knew exactly what she was saying. Plus, Kiki didn’t want to press her luck. If Emily didn’t know what it meant, Kiki would be happy to show her in as much details as she could get away with. “I’d love to. Your place or mine?”

“I haven’t seen your place yet...” Emily offered.

“Come on over then, whenever you like.” Kiki offered. “Should I chill us some wine?”

“Wine would be good. There are ... things I want to tell you that wine might make easier to say out loud without dying of embarrassment,” said Emily. “How about like ... an hour? I should get a shower and ... stuff before I head out.”

“An hour’s fine. It’ll give me time to clean up.” Kiki looked around her spotless apartment and felt dumb saying that. “Get some wine and stuff.”

“Sure, good,” said Emily. “And, just, if anything comes up ... like if Nick wants to catch up with you or anything, I get it.”

“I’m not at Nick’s beck and call.” Kiki reminded her. “If he wants to catch up, he can wait until tomorrow. I have plans.”

“Right. That’s ... fine. He said...” Emily stumbled over her words. “Never mind. We have a lot to catch up on. I should get ready.”

“Sure.” Kiki stood with her phone by her ear for a minute after the call ended, momentarily overwhelmed by the possibilities. Emily was coming over and she wanted to “Netflix and chill.” Again, the idea that she should clean up shot through her mind and again she was faced by a spotless apartment, maintained by the Loft’s staff. She checked her refrigerator and cabinet and found them well-stocked with wine even though she and Casey had finished off a bottle together the night before.

Thinking of Casey gave Kiki a moment of panic. She hadn’t made plans with Casey tonight, had she? But, no. Casey, Cat, and Hall were going to some party out in Brooklyn tonight. Nick might be interested in getting together tonight ... or Pilar or Jazz for that matter. Ever since Italy, Kiki’s sex life in New York had gotten every bit as complicated as the one she’d fled in LA. Somehow, it didn’t fill her with the same sense of panic - probably because she hadn’t made as many bad choices here. For the most part, her lovers here respected her boundaries. They didn’t demand commitment or exclusivity or play games with her feelings in order to address their own insecurities. Some small part of Kiki wondered what the hell was wrong with them or her that the Loft wasn’t a maelstrom of drama and jealousy, but the rest of her was grateful for the small bit of sanctuary they’d created for a girl the rest of the world was so ready to condemn, convert, or both.

She tried to watch one of her Japanese language videos, but found it too hard to concentrate. It was a similar problem to the one she had studying with Casey. Each night they sat down to watch a language learning video and each time so far, they’d ended up fooling around, making out, and ignoring way too much of what was on-screen. That might not actually be a problem, though. It turned out that Casey knew a lot of Japanese - and a lot about Japan in general. After the sex, they’d lain in bed together talking about Japan and the language and Kiki felt like she was learning more than she would have from some more structured lessons.

Abandoning the video, she went into her bedroom, neatened up, and changed into the blue and gold silk kimono she’d picked up in Tokyo. It wasn’t at all her style, but in case Emily had any doubts, it made Kiki’s availability as obvious as it could be without her answering the door completely naked. Plus, it made her look super-Japanese and, ever since coming home, she’d been determined to get more in touch with her heritage.

She spent the remainder of her waiting time brushing out her hair. Kiki knew she wasn’t as beautiful as Emily on many conventional scales, but her long, black hair was without parallel. She was still brushing when the doorbell rang. She ran to open the door, then stood staring. Even in a v-neck white t-shirt and black jeans, Emily looked amazing.

“Hi...” The blonde goddess gave a lopsided smile. “Can I come in, then?”

“Sure, of course.” Kiki backed out of the door and off to open side. “You just look ... really good?”

“I do?” Emily scrunched up her face in confusion. “What about you? I love the kimono. Did you get it in Japan?”

“I did.” Kiki laughed. “I was in a photoshoot for a local magazine. They had this really comfortable silk kimono that I liked. I asked if I could keep it and they said no.”

“But, you kept it anyway?” Emily prompted.

“What? No, they probably would have billed Jazz for it or something if I did that. Japanese people are born with sticks up their asses. I bought this one myself. It’s way nicer than the one they had.” Kiki went to the freezer and retrieved the bottle of white wine she’d put in there to chill quickly.

“I take it the trip to Japan didn’t go well?” Emily suggested.

“It was ... very educational. Both of my parents have always been like super-assimilated Americans. I thought living with Casey had taught me just how little I knew about being Japanese, but actually being there...” Kiki retrieved glasses from the cabinet. “They think there’s nothing funnier than a Japanese person who doesn’t know anything about Japan ... but not in a good way.”

“Wow. It was ... weird being back in Australia after so long, but nothing like that.” Emily laid a necklace-sized jewelry box on the kitchen island. “I’m sorry it wasn’t a good trip.”

“It’s fine. I’m going back in November and I’m going to shove just how much I know about their has-been little country down their throats.” Kiki held up the bottle. “Chablis okay?”

“It’s all good, I just need to take the edge off a little tonight.” said Emily.

“Because you have something difficult you want to talk to me about?” Kiki asked. “Does it have anything to do with the box you just put down?”

“Oh, very much so.” Emily blushed. “I should be able to open it for you without my head bursting into flames roughly two glasses from now. Why don’t you tell me about your trip?”

Kiki gave a longing look at the box, desperately curious now. It took an act of willpower to pour wine instead of leaping to the island and opening the box. She did pour them very, very full however.

They sat on the couch and Kiki started explaining some of the low points of her trip. At first, she kept getting distracted by the jewelry box. But, the more she told Emily about her trip, the more she enjoyed it. She’d thought talking to Casey about it was cathartic, but Casey had too much respect for Japanese culture to have been entirely on Kiki’s side. Emily was more of a cheerleader and enabler in her current dislike of all things Japanese.

“So ... wait.” Emily said eventually, laughing at one of Kiki’s anecdotes. “Why are you learning all about Japan now? Isn’t that exactly what they want you to do?”

“I think they’d rather be able to keep making fun of me in perpetuity actually, but it’s not about what they want.” Kiki finished her own glass of wine and refilled both glasses.

“I ... still don’t get it.” Emily admitted.

“A part of the joke is that they feel sorry for me.” Kiki hadn’t really articulated this part of her thinking before. “That I’m missing something by not learning how to be the perfect, little Yamato nadeshiko. I can’t very well argue with them when I don’t really know the first thing about being Japanese. I need to learn my culture in order to reject it.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Wow, they really pissed you off, didn’t they?”

“A little, yeah,” said Kiki. “And now I’m ready to go full konichiwa, bitches on them.”

“God ... I can’t believe it’s you versus a whole country and I’m a little worried for the country,” said Emily.

Kiki smiled at that, oddly flattered. “Anyway, enough Japan. You went way more places than I did. What have you been up to?”

“Well, I slept with Nick.” Emily ventured. After a beat, she added. “And Pilar and Tanvi ... pretty much all at once.”

“Wow, that’s certainly progress.” Kiki offered. “Pretty soon, you could be just like me.”

“I hope so,” said Emily. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.”

Kiki frowned and stared at Emily for a few long seconds. No one had ever said they wanted to be more like Kiki before and she’d only been joking about Emily’s transformation and wasn’t sure she would recommend anyone actively try to emulate her. She certainly didn’t think Emily had any reason to envy her.

But, she wasn’t about to say any of that. “So, you want to know my secret technique for world domination through sexual promiscuity?”

Emily giggled, “Something like that.”

“This is not a trivial thing you ask for, young padawan,” intoned Kiki. “It will take many intense, hands-on lessons. There’s no part of your self that will be left untouched by the process.”

Emily put her glass down and gave Kiki a sultry look. “Bring it.”

Kiki crawled up the couch, between Emily’s legs, and over her body to kiss her deeply. She didn’t want to give Emily a moment to reconsider or slow things down, so things progressed quickly. Emily’s t-shirt and bra were off before the first kiss broke. Kiki sucked on her big, gorgeous tits while peeling off her jeans and sliding her fingers inside, finding Emily’s warmth.

Emily showed no desire to slow or stop things once they’d begun either. She moaned and opened herself to Kiki, kissing and nipping at her neck as she stripped the young Asian woman naked in almost a single motion. Once they were both naked, they quickly became a tangled of arms and legs, intertwining and touching, their hands matching rhythmically until Kiki’s pleasure was rising as Emily moaned in her ear.

Either sleeping with all those people had been good for Emily or the chablis was. There was a sensual aggression to her that Kiki hadn’t seen before - one that left her flat on her back with Emily’s hair splayed over her belly and thighs while the other woman’s tongue assaulted her core with wave after wave of pleasure. Kiki hadn’t been entirely sure she’d been anything to Emily beyond a stepping stone to Nick’s bed, but there was real enthusiasm and passion here.

Much later, they lay sprawled over each other, catching their breath, still gently stroking each other in the way that two women who could spend the whole night having sex might. Before things got heated again, Kiki managed to ask, “What’s in the box?”

Emily’s pushed Kiki’s sweat-damp hair back from her forehead. “Go get it.”

Kiki made a noise of protest, not wanting to get up from the couch, but curiosity momentarily overcame everything else. She padded over to the kitchen island and padded back with the box. With a little flourish, she knelt at Emily’s side and offered the box like a courtier offering a gift to a queen.

Emily laughed and took the box. “When you see what that is, you’re going to realize just how inappropriate that pose is.”

Emily took the box out of Kiki’s hands, popped it open, drew out what was inside and secured it around her own throat. In case the shiny patent leather and D-ring weren’t enough to identify it for what it symbolized, Emily deliberately lowered her eyes. “Kiki, will you do me the honor of letting me be your slave for the rest of the night?”