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Instead of indulging in her attraction, Natalia lamented the woman’s insane aversion to money. She had that it factor. That undefinable star quality people either had or they didn’t. Reyes had it in immeasurable quantities and she was wasting it standing behind a podium and writing scholarly papers no one in the world would ever see.
Reyes’ ideas were interesting, trailblazing — she’d spent the last ten years immersed in a thousand-year-old myth about the likes of Cleopatra having been part of a sapphic vampire cabal. That was fucking marketable.
Natalia returned to her body before inadvertently crushing the Dominion mug in her hand. She put it under the spout a moment before the espresso started flowing.
She was busy stirring honey into her latte and thinking of different ways to approach the stubborn professor when a noise forced her attention toward the door.
Adriana and Lola walking into the office together, talking instead of fighting. Not even a hint of Resting Lola Face.
The kind of warmth found only in fresh baked bread and childhood summers crept into Natalia’s chest. She’d picked her proteges well, and they were finally starting to figure out that they complemented each other. Fire and ice in perfect balance.
When Natalia expired sitting on her navy leather throne, everything she’d sacrificed — all the storms she’d weathered to build her empire brick by brick — would be safe in their hands. Together, they would carry on her legacy, amplify it. Improve it.
It was too bad she’d never get to tell them. They wouldn’t know about the keys to her castle until her lawyer told them before the lavish funeral she’d planned for herself. The indulgent part of her wanted to tell them now. To experience their reaction. But she couldn’t say anything.
Motivation ended when accomplishment showed up. What was the point of working hard and staying sharp if you’d already climbed the peak? There always had to be another level. Another desire just out of reach.
Her affection for Adriana and Lola would never let her fail them. They each had tremendous instincts and acumen. No question they were on their way to great things under the Dominion banner. It was her duty to keep them in fighting shape, and Natalia never failed at her job.
Slipping around the back of the kitchen and moving toward her office, the word failure rang in her mind, crashing against the inside of her skull. She was failing with Dr. Reyes. Deals failed to materialize all the time. That couldn’t be helped sometimes, but Natalia always got to plead her case. Why was the professor so determined not to even listen to a pitch? Not from Zoe. Not from her.
Natalia sat down at her desk and unlocked her computer. The only reason she could think of for not even wanting to listen was a fear that she could be persuaded. Maybe all Natalia needed to do was be persistent. That hadn’t worked for Zoe, but Natalia often succeeded where others floundered. She defied odds like when no one believed a talent agency devoted only to sapphic clientele could ever survive.
An internet search for Dr. Samantha Reyes helped Natalia build her dossier. Tailoring her sales tactics would be critical, she thought to herself before entering Dr. Samantha Reyes partner into the search bar for purely research purposes.
Images of Dr. Reyes at various events flooded her screen. She was often photographed with women, but Natalia couldn’t tell whether they were dates or fellow attendees.
An image of Dr. Reyes in a white tuxedo complete with black bowtie stopped her scrolling. If the step and repeat hadn’t been littered with the public library logo, she would have guessed the professor was on a Hollywood red carpet. Slicked back bleached hair and oversized glasses, Dr. Reyes smoldered into the camera.
Chiding herself for getting distracted — Dr. Reyes being exactly her type was no excuse — Natalia navigated to the University’s faculty directory. Her bio page said nothing of a significant other, but it did list her upcoming appearances.
In a few days, the Cuban-American Historical Society of Miami was featuring Dr. Reyes and other intellectuals for a Friday night discussion of their respective works. Light refreshments to be served. Natalia opened her densely packed calendar and found a few things to move.
After she’d purchased a ticket to the event, Natalia found herself back on the page of image results. Dr. Reyes knew she was attractive. It was obvious from her easy confidence and body language. Natalia was also certain that the professor was attracted to her in return. There had been something of a vibe between them. It would be stupid not to use that to her advantage.
There was no rule that said Natalia couldn’t flirt with her. She wasn’t her client. And anyway, flirting was just another way of being charming. It was worth a try.
Enlivened by the prospect of seeing Dr. Reyes again for strictly professional reasons, Natalia went back to her reading. She wasn’t going to be caught off guard twice. Now she knew she was swimming with a fellow shark and adjusted accordingly.
CHAPTER 5
Reviewing the notes she’d made on the back of a page torn from a syllabus, Sam sat in her car outside The American Museum of the Cuban Diaspora. It was an imposing building, stark white with massive columns that looked more like a bank than a museum.
Running her fingertips over the thin gold chain hidden under her button-down shirt, Sam reworked her opening joke. Self-deprecating humor was usually a surefire way to win an audience, but she had to use it lightly when talking about her family’s harrowing journey across the treacherous Florida Straits. A journey that claimed so many lives.
Speaking engagements like these — ones about her life and how it informed her areas of research — were harder than discussing the work itself. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of two gold bands warmed by her body and grazing her sternum when she tugged on the chain. The weight around her neck and against her chest kept her grounded. Focused.
Sam slid out of her Subaru, slipped on her tweed blazer she could only wear on rare cool nights, and started inside where a few hundred people were gathered in the museum’s small theater.
She’d been on her way to the front of the stage — where an octogenarian with a clipboard and don’t-even-think-about-it scowl was checking in the evening’s other speakers — when she made a hard left toward the small cash bar selling wine and beer.
Wearing a short dress a shade of deep blue only found in midnight skies, Natalia was typing away on her phone while waiting in line for a drink. Unable to stop the smile from springing onto her lips, Sam’s nerves vanished at the unexpected delight of seeing Natalia again.
“Ms. Flores, I had no idea you were such a scholar,” Sam said when she slipped in behind her and prayed she’d die drowning in Natalia’s perfume.
Natalia turned like a silk canopy catching a warm summer breeze. She was so much closer than she had been in the lecture hall. Her eyes were darker and more alluring. Her frosty aura was as tempting as the one-more-drink she’d regret in the morning.
“Do you have a lot of ideas about me, Professor?” Natalia’s tone was one of challenge, perhaps intended to make Sam shrink, but it only made her ache to rise.
