The final crescendo of Lists Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 came crashing down on that final note Angelique stood. The audience’s roar and clapping deluged over her as she took an exhausted bow. Sweat streamed from every pore of her body as she strode off the stage despite the clamor for an encore.

As she went through the corridor to her dressing room, the impresario grabbed her arm as she passed by and told her to go out and give the audience more. The acclamations of the audience were still making the air vibrate around them.

“There’s no more Max,” she said. “I am totally exhausted. These have been challenging days for me, and I just gave it my all.”

“Just because that loser you were dating cheated on you with another woman? For that, you will let your fans down?”

“Max, you don’t really care about me. All you want is another triumph for yourself. Also, your proposition to replace the ‘loser’ in my life is less than honorable, and it will never happen.”

With that, she stormed into her dressing room and slammed the door shut. She dropped to the seat in front of the makeup table and, laying her head down, started to sob uncontrollably.

The loneliness of her situation overwhelmed her. It had been over two months, and she still yearned for human contact.

The loser had not only cheated on her but also delighted in humiliating her and took an extraordinary pleasure in causing her pain in their lovemaking. He had resented her successes as a pianist as he had never succeeded himself as a musician. He felt that demeaning her made him better than she was.

Initially, she had delighted in her submission to him as he brought her to sexual plateaus she had never reached with anyone else. However, all the previous men in her life had left her wanting more as they seemed to only consider her a convenient receptacle available to them to achieve their own satisfaction.

That was over! She would never tolerate herself being used that way again. In fact, she was disillusioned by all men for now.

Her upbringing had been in one of France’s very religious Catholic families, and she would be ashamed to face her parents. They had never failed to remonstrate with her about the string of lovers she had entertained since leaving their home.

Her sobs turned to a full flow of tears as she reflected on her life to date.

There was a soft rap on the door of the dressing room.

“Go away,” she yelled.

She heard a key inserted into the lock, and the door swung slowly open.

“Mlle. Angelique, let me assist you in removing your makeup and changing into your street clothes.”

“Sarah, leave me alone. I just want to die. Nobody cares about me, and I don’t care for anyone right now. I feel alone and unloved. Just go!”

“I can’t do that, Miss. I have been your dresser, makeup artist, and hairdresser for five years. I just can’t leave you in this state,” said Sarah moving to where she was standing behind her.

“Here, take this tissue and blow your nose, and I will go through our after-show routine.”

“Sarah, for five years, you have called me Miss or Miss Angelique. Can you relax enough with me to call me Angie?”

“If you wish, Angie.”

“It would make me feel better. I would feel less alone if you were a friend rather than an employee. You have always cared for me through the years and shared my triumphs and failures. I just realized that you are someone I have always trusted to be here for me.”

Sarah ran her fingers through Angie’s blond hair. She gently unwound the coils she had so carefully arranged into a chignon scant hours before. Her fingers started kneading Angie’s scalp and neck.

“That feels so good,” Angie muttered, “don’t stop. I am so tense and sore.”

“That’s not surprising considering the effort you put into the piece you played tonight and all you have been through the last few days.”

“You listened to me play?”

“I always do. I have never failed to stand in the wings to listen.”

“Really? I didn’t know. Come to think of it, after five years. I still know very little about you.”

“I’m a very private person, Angie. You never pried into my life, and I was content just to be around you and your talent. To do my bit to make you shine.”

“Tell me, do you have a man in your life?”

“No.”

“Good for you. All men are rotten.”

“Now that’s not true. There are good men around. You, unfortunately, have seemed to pick up the ones who weren’t.”

“Well, that’s true. But, unfortunately, I don’t seem to have a great track record in that domain.”

“So tell me, why aren’t you with one of those good men?”

“Hmm ... I guess it’s truth time. But, Angie, I prefer women to men.”

“Really! You’re gay?” Angie blurted out.

“Yes, I am, and very happily so.”

“You have a regular girlfriend?”

“No, not at this time. The last woman I was with moved back to Europe, and I chose to stay here.”

“Why?”

“I had you to care for and did not wish to abandon you.”

“But did you not love her?”

“I still do. However, I did not wish to stand in the way of the opportunity that came her way. Now stand up so I can help you remove your dress. Tell me, Angie, have you ever been with or interested in a woman?”

“Well, some touchy-feely stuff when I was at school. My parents found out, and there was a horrible scene, and then soon after, I discovered men. Are your parents aware that you are gay?”

“Yes.”

“They accept that?”

“My parents only wish for me to be happy, and if I am, they are happy for me.”

I stared at Sarah with bewildered eyes. To have had her around me for so long, and yet I knew so little about her and who or what she was. I did not even know where she lived. She had the dress off me, and I was standing there in my bra, panties, and hose while I watched her choose a street dress for me.

It struck me for the first time that she was a stunning woman. Her elfin face was perfect with large lustrous green eyes and a perfectly shaped mouth. She was smaller than me, standing about five foot four or five while I was five eight in my stockinged feet. Small breasts and a lithe long-legged figure for her size cast her into an auburn Barbie Doll look alike.

My mind considered what it would be like to make love to her. When I realized my thoughts, my face turned crimson with shame.

“Angie, if you are doing nothing tonight, would you accept to come over to my place and have a cup of tea?” She asked.

“I don’t know, Sarah. I’m exhausted. Maybe I should just go home to bed.”

“You know that if you do, wired the way you are right now, you will agonize over yourself and how unfair life is. Come to my place. I live very near here, and we can have a girl’s night where at least you will not dwell on your misery, and we can have a good chat.”

“I don’t know, Sarah...”

She smiled at me and said, “Are you worried that as an avowed lesbian, I might attempt to seduce you? Know that I would love to; however, I do not seduce reluctant lesbian virgins or quasi virgins.”

“No, of course not!” I lied. In fact, I had been thinking those exact thoughts and wondering what it would feel like to be with a woman sexually.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll go to my place, play music, have tea, and chat.”

“Okay.”

We walked out of the now deserted concert hall together. As we got to the sidewalk in front of the theatre, Max was standing with a group of people.

“Come join us, Angie. We are going to the Ritz for a few drinks and some laughs. Come, it will do you a world of good.”

“Could Sarah join us?”

“Angie, she’s just a dresser. She would not fit with the group.”

I felt the bile rise in my throat at his words. Sarah stood there with downcast eyes. I wanted to leap at him and tear his eyes out. Instead, I controlled my rage and said, “You pompous ass. Sarah is worth ten of you. Not only won’t I join you, but this is also the last time you will have me perform in any of your productions.”

With that, I took Sarah’s arm, and we marched down the sidewalk.

The contact with Sarah as we walked arm in arm was very comforting. I felt a human presence next to me for the first time in quite a while.

Sarah finally broke the silence, “Thank you for taking a stand for me against that miserable excuse for a man.”

“Don’t worry about it. Max is a miserable excuse not only for a man but for a human being. He has been trying to get into my pants since I ditched the loser. No great loss, my dear.”

We wound our way down some quiet streets off the main thoroughfare till we arrived in front of a small brownstone house where Sarah stopped. “This is home,” she said.

I looked up at an immaculately kept two-story house with a small front yard. Sarah led me up the front stairs, opened the heavy oak door, and showed me in.

“Welcome ‘chez moi.’ Come into the living room and make yourself at home.”

I don’t know what I had expected in the home of an avowed gay person. My perception may have been clouded by the apartment of a couple of gay men I had known. Their apartment had been so feminine it had been cloying. This was the antithesis.

An eclectic décor of well-chosen antiques and art deco knickknacks gave it a warmth that made it seem both elegant and homey. Books were strewn around on the coffee table, and a huge fireplace occupied the far wall facing a love seat and flanked by two matching armchairs on either side of the hearth.

Above the fireplace hung a large painting of a nude Sarah in all her glory. She looked delectable. I envisioned being enfolded in her arms and against those fantastic breasts. I immediately chased the thought away with a feeling of shame.

“Sarah, this is beautiful. It looks so comfortable and lived in. By comparison, my apartment is a dump. An expensive dump at that. How can you afford this on what I pay you?”

“You pay me well, and I am fortunate enough to have inherited s modest fortune from my grandparents as my parents did not need the money. It’s chilly tonight. Would you enjoy a fire in the fireplace?”

“That would be awesome,” I replied.

“If I go and make us a cup of tea, could you handle that?”

“Sure. I was once both a brownie and a girl guide.”

“I’ll go and prepare tea.”

The wood was already laid out, and it took an instant to start the kindling and get the fire going. I settled myself in the love seat and stared at the painting of Agnes over the fireplace.

I blushed guiltily and switched to perusing one of the art books on the coffee table. I was starting to wonder where Sarah was when she came into the room clad in a long pale blue bathrobe that set off her long blonde hair to perfection.

“Sorry it took so long, but I decided to go change while the kettle was brewing. Do you take milk and sugar with your tea?”

“It depends on the tea.”

“This is Jasmin tea.”

“I’ll drink that pure and unadulterated. I love Jasmin tea.”

“May I make a suggestion, Angie? I have left another bathrobe in the bathroom at the top of the stairs. Why don’t you shed those street clothes and wrap yourself up in it? It will help you get rid of your stress and feel more comfortable. Don’t worry, there’s no one here but us girls tonight.”