Chapter 20: The Desert Princess

"Hi honey, it's me. Will I see you around?" Angique hated how her voice sounded as she spoke into the phone. She hadn't seen Alicia for days at the Club — not naked at the door to her Villa, nor dressed in the Salon.

There was a pause before the girl answered, and when she did, she sounded hesitant.

"Dunno, I'm busy."

"But we should meet today, remember?" Angique's voice had obtained the edge of a whine. It irritated her.

"Uhm..." Alicia said, sounding distant.

"You told me you're leaving tomorrow," Angique said. "For Berlin, with Carmela."

"Ah yes. Why?"

"Why? Honey, I'll be leaving next Wednesday for more than a fortnight. We won't see each other in nearly three weeks." Too much begging, Angique thought, too much exasperation. Who was in charge here anyway?

"I see," Alicia said. "You leave too..." Angique's voice now rose to a higher pitch.

"I told you! I am off to France and Spain for business. I hate to leave you that long, but I have to." Alicia again waited a few tantalizing heartbeats before responding. When her voice at last came through it sounded indifferent — annoyed even?

"That's okay," she said. "I do hope to see you. But I must run now, okay? Sorry!" Angique held the phone. She felt dizzy. The beeps seemed to mock her.

It was a few hours later. Angique had been wandering the Club's corridors like a moon sick puppy. She had long since stopped berating herself for her juvenile behavior. When she at last saw Alicia walk past, she jumped up and ran after the girl, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Hi, honey," she breathed. "So glad you could make it." Alicia turned around. Her eyes went wide; then a dark color flushed her face.

"Oh? Why yes, hello," she said, already starting to turn away again. "But I'm not here really. I had to pick up a few things. I'm on my way out now. Sorry."

"But we must say good bye properly. Please stay for a bit. It will be three long weeks, darling." This time Angique didn't care if she sounded needy.

"I really can't, sorry!" Alicia said, walking off to the exit.

"Alicia?"

"Really must go. Bye."

The fresh mint tea had turned cold, the leaves looking wilted. Angique's dark fingernails tapped a tattoo against the glass. They'd done that for minutes, but she never listened. The Salon was a pink haze before her unfocused stare. She could only think of Alicia. What on earth was wrong with the girl? Or with her, for that matter.

It had been a month since they visited Anna at her desert ranch. The girl had been quiet all the way home and she didn't visit the Club for a week. When she at last did, Angique had to go down to find her in the Salon and take her up to Villa. Then she'd had to ask the girl several times if something was wrong, before Alicia admitted that the humiliation had scared her. Angique had started to apologize, but the girl laid a small hand on the woman's face.

"Oh no," she'd said. "I wasn't scared by you or by what happened. I was scared by how much I loved it."

Angique remembered holding Alicia's gaze for minutes, after she said that. Then she pulled her closer and kissed her. Their lips and tongues tingled when they separated.

"Remember, honey, you call the shots, only you," Angique said, their brows touching. "Should we quit? It always is about what you want, darling. It always is."

Alicia admitted that she felt torn. She said Carmela ignored her most of the time. The few times they made love lately had been more like fucking.

"She treats me like her fuck toy," she almost spitted out. "I'm her stress reliever." Angique's eyebrows rose at that statement.

"I often use you as a fuck toy, honey cunt. I thought you liked that?" she asked. Alicia shrugged.

"Not the way she does," she sneered. Angique chuckled.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

She'd hugged the girl.

After that meeting Angique again didn't see much of Alicia. The last time they met was a few days ago and rather randomly. Alicia told her about going to Berlin with Carmela. Angique congratulated her with the wonderful opportunity to see a great city. She immediately invited her for a drink at the bar, so she could advice her on what to see in the German capital. She'd been there quite a few times and loved the place. She was eager to share her enthusiasm, but Alicia was aloof. It appeared she hadn't informed herself at all about the place she was going to.

She also seemed hardly interested in Angique's suggestions. To the incredulous question if she ever prepared at all for a new city she answered that she'd be in Carmela's pocket and would go where she decided. Then she said with an alarming bitterness,

"I could just as well go with her as a piece of baggage. I'm only her fuck toy anyway!"

Angique was taken aback with her vehemence.

"You mentioned that before, honey," she then said, her voice low and worried. "If that's what you think, why go at all?" Alicia shrugged, pushing her half-full glass away.

"What do you think?" she said. "She offers me an all-paid holiday to Europe, staying at the best hotel and all. Who'd be stupid enough to refuse?"

Who indeed, Angique mused, wondering if she knew the girl at all.

"I have to go now anyway!" Alicia exclaimed, sliding off her stool and walking out without a kiss or a good bye. An icy finger touched Angique's spine.

Back at Villa the evening had turned into night. Angique's heart by then floated in a bowl of freezing water. Not again, you fool, she thought. You stupid ass, don't you see? She doesn't need you, never did. Look at Pathetic You, taking half a day off to say good-bye to a girl who doesn't need you. She just regards you as an adventure, a voyage into the realm of freaks and monsters. You give her a delicious shiver, like you get when you go to a horror movie. Time has come for her to return to the sane and the normal. Turn the lights on, please. Thanks for the thrill and the popcorn.

Angique closed the book she hadn't read one word in, that evening. She rose and picked up her coat. Going down from Villa in the elevator, she tried to avoid her multiplied eyes staring back from the surrounding mirrors. The stairs took her to a dark and empty Salon where the clicking of her heels disrupted the silence.

Three girls were standing around in the exit lobby; one of them was Alicia. Angique walked over to her. The girl was so deep into conversation that she had to call her name and touch her arm.

"Alicia."

"Oh? Ah, Angique."

"You'll be gone tomorrow."

"Yes."

"Let me wish you a wonderful week."

"Thank you."

Alicia's eyes stayed with Angique's for just a few seconds. Her lips seemed to want to form words, but she turned away to respond to something one of the girls said. Embarrassment paralyzed Angique.

"Is that all, Licia?" she said, hating the timidity of her voice. Alicia once more turned to her.

"Oh, sorry, yes," she said with a startled look. "Let me wish you a nice journey too. Spain, wasn't it?" Angique didn't answer. But she didn't leave either. She just stood, desperately hoping she did not have to say it.

"Shouldn't we kiss before leaving for three long weeks, Licia?"

There, she had said it. The mighty Mistress Angique had virtually gone down on her knees for this ... this ... She'd begged the girl for a goodbye kiss.

Alicia showed the good grace to blush. She stepped away from the group and embraced Angique, kissing the woman on her pale but burning cheek. Only when Angique turned her face to find Alicia's mouth did the peck become a remotely passionate kiss.

Angique tore herself free from the girl's arms and hurried out into the indifferent night.

The weeks of travel turned out to be a success, if only business wise. Angique never before focused so entirely on keeping busy. She drove her people hard, skipping almost all the pleasure aspects that usually made their trips so agreeable. Marijke, who had been her right hand for years, took her aside after they stumbled exhaustedly into yet another anonymous hotel bar.

"I don't care about myself, Angique," she said, sweeping her flaming orange curls to one side. "But please tell me — are you trying to kill yourself?"

Angique reached for her whiskey and tossed it back.

"I have no clue of what you mean, honey," she said, waving for a refill. Marijke just looked. Then she slowly shook her freckled face left and right.

"What is wrong, Angique?" she asked. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say someone broke your heart." Angique slammed her glass down, making the ice cubes jump out of it.

"Good night!" she said and turned to leave.

"I am Marijke, remember?" the girl said to her back, softly. "I thought I was the one you could always tell everything."

To her dismay, Angique felt tears press against her eyes. She cursed under her breath and took two more steps to the exit. Then she turned. Marijke's huge blue eyes sparkled with tears too. Goddammit, what am I letting that spoilt brat do to me, she screamed inside her skull. She returned and hugged the girl. They talked into the night.

The next day was spent on the beach.

After returning home, Angique decided not to call Alicia or look for her at the Club. The official reason she gave herself was to see whether the girl would contact her. But she very well knew the unofficial reason — she was pissed off, hurt and hopelessly sad.