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As if trying to convince Sam that she was behaving perfectly normally, Natalia pointed to the enormous observation wheel in the distance. “Would you like a bird’s-eye view of the city?”
The monstrosity was an eyesore. A bunch of private, enclosed gondolas carrying tourists to the very top of the wheel. She’d never visited it on principle. They didn’t need to be the Navy Pier or the London Eye. Miami had its own rhythm, and it was at its best when it leaned into what made it special — the Caribbean vibration of the nearby islands mixing with their own tropical flair.
“Have you ever had sex in public?” Natalia asked so unexpectedly, it interfered with Sam’s ability to swallow, making her choke.
A tiny, wry grin on the very edge of Natalia’s lips signaled that she’d tossed out the question with the intention of flustering her. It had worked, but only for a moment.
“I have not,” Sam admitted, trying to shake the discomfort in her body and enjoy the moment. “Have you?”
Natalia offered a nonchalant shrug. “I will say that I was a little intrigued after that horrible movie with Reese Witherspoon.”
“Not the one with Mark Wahlberg.” Sam cringed.
“I may have harbored a certain fantasy after that rollercoaster scene,” Natalia admitted casually.
“How very unexpected for a woman with your discerning taste.” Sam laughed. “Did you ever fulfill that fantasy?”
“What kind of lady would I be if I told you?” Natalia teased, her playfulness only making Sam more sure that she was hiding something.
“That’s alright. I may have wanted to have sex in a club bathroom after some sweaty dancing when I saw Basic Instinct.”
“Do you know the role of Sharon Stone’s girlfriend would have gone to Brooke Shields, but she turned it down?”
Sam clutched her chest. “Not those two. I almost didn’t survive her with the French woman.”
“Leilani Sarelle,” Natalia provided the actress’s name. “They cut their love scenes because of the censors.”
“From that movie?” Sam shook her head. “It was basically porn with a plot.”
“Not to mention completely exploitive,” Natalia agreed. “But straight sex is passionate,” she said in an openly mocking tone. “What purpose could two women together have other than obscenity?” She shook her head.
“I suppose we couldn’t expect much more from a movie that gave us murderous, psychopathic queers threatening the lives and limbs of straight white dudes,” Sam conceded. “With the Lilith script, I’m pushing for nuance, you know? I know they’re vampires, but there are no tropes or stereotypes — just complex and fully realized women in layered relationships.”
Natalia stiffened.
Sam was well aware that she couldn’t talk about the details of the production until each stage was completed, but she hadn’t said anything specific. Hadn’t violated the terms of their agreement.
Sam faltered. The tense energy from earlier had snapped back over them like a rubber band. Natalia stared straight ahead as they walked, responding to Sam’s comments with noncommittal murmurs. The easy back-and-forth from earlier was gone.
Dread crept through Sam’s veins. She could feel Natalia pulling away, retreating behind an invisible barrier. After the closeness of last night, she hadn’t expected this distance.
While they walked through the tents showcasing fascinating and sometimes strange art, Sam gently brushed her fingers over Natalia’s. Even if she didn’t know what was wrong, she could try to hold on to this fragile connection. Remind Natalia she was there whenever she was ready to talk.
CHAPTER 53
The pungent aroma of eucalyptus and sage filled Natalia’s senses as the spa attendant slathered warm, viscous mud over her bare skin. She lay prone on the table; the headrest forcing her cheek at an odd angle.
“This seaweed wrap will detoxify and nourish your skin,” the attendant assured her in a soothing voice. “I’ll let it work its magic for thirty minutes. Just relax and breathe deeply.”
Relax. If only it were that easy, Natalia thought ruefully.
The attendant quietly exited and Natalia was left alone, encased from neck to feet in the thick, green mask. The silence pressed in, broken only by the whirring white noise machine in the corner.
As the mud seeped into her pores, the scent cloying in her nose, Natalia realized her mistake. In running from the tense weekend with Sam, she had trapped herself in claustrophobic loneliness. No phone, no distractions, nothing but her spiraling thoughts.
The room felt smaller by the second. She focused on steadying her breath, but her mind raced. Had she ruined things already? Why couldn’t she just be honest? Natalia strained against the mud, desperate for any stimulation beyond the swirling darkness of her own regrets.
But the wrap held fast, immobilizing her. Forcing her to confront the doubts and guilt churning within. She thought of Sam’s wounded eyes. Natalia squeezed her own shut, willing away the image. But in the stillness, she found no escape.
