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Carine got the answer she needed. “You mean with equipment and everything?”
“Mm-hmm. Hung an awning out there to protect them from the rain and bird shit. They leave most of the equipment outside all day and night.”
“That’ll bring down a condo’s value. Did you talk to the association?”
“I’m trying to be tactful. When you live a defiant lifestyle, you do your honest best to try to keep strangers out of your business, and sometimes that means not involving yourself in theirs.”
“That sucks, though.” Carine took a sip and immediately wheezed.
Heidi poured a strong drink, and Carine shouldn’t have expected any differently. Heidi didn’t tend to be a dilettante in much of anything.
“So, walk me through your day,” she said with a gin-hoarsened voice. “You get up early and listen to kettlebells clink atop the concrete. You have your morning pot of coffee.”
Heidi made ago-ongesture.
Carine must have gotten at least two things right.
She tapped her chin contemplatively and tried to put herself in the other woman’s metal-studded shoes. “Next, you step into your regeneration chamber and absorb your precisely calibrated calorie allotment through osmosis. So much neater that way, you know.”
“Mm-hmm. Batting a thousand. Keep going.”
“Well, that’s easy. You set a timer for precisely twenty-two minutes and partake in your morning cleanse, but water’s too basic for you. Your tub fills with the milk from millions of rare, crushed orchids. You also pour in some essential oil. You have six vials you bought from your secretary the last time she fell into a multi-level marketing cult. They have names like ‘Don’t Harsh My Vibe,’ and some smell like pot, but that’s okay because the orchids neutralize the stink.”
Heidi snorted and didn’t stop Carine from rambling. Carine’s mother had always told her she had an “interesting” imagination. That was probably why she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually done anything amusing with it.
“You don’t wash your hair. Your hair washes you. You let it down, and whatever film it’s gathered over the past day or two self-immolates and metamorphosizes into a cleansing smudge that you waft around yourself. You don’t shave because your body fears you too much to grow hair in the summer, and you don’t give a shit during the winter.”
“True. Please continue.”
“Gladly. Once you’ve dried and moisturized with the body butter salted with ex-lovers’ tears, you don your ceremonial robes. You put your whip into your pocket, fetch a meal prep cube from the fridge, and grab your truck keys, ready to start your day.”
Grinning, Heidi set down her drink and gave Carine rousing applause. “Very good. See? Given everything I have to get done in the mornings, is it any wonder I’m asleep by nine-fifteen?”
Carine laughed because Heidi’s smile was infectious. Still, she remembered that she was the out-of-place component of Heidi’s night. She’d known Heidi had been asleep but continued over that threshold anyway because she’d been terrified of squandering the invitation. She’d worried there wouldn’t be another.
That was selfish of her, but she’d meant everything she’d said in Heidi’s truck. Any propositions she’d made, whether asserted or implied, were genuine. She wasn’t going to have to talk herself into enjoying the evening. She was going to have a good time no matter what. Heidi was a shooting star, and Carine felt lucky just to share the same air as her.
“What’s wrong?” Heidi asked. “You went grim all of a sudden. Worried my story about your morning won’t be as good?”
Carine grimaced. “No, no. I drifted away on my own thought bubbles again. I was thinking about how I’d wakened you. I don’t imagine there’s a better time to come, though.”
“Not especially.”
“Right.” Dragging her gaze away from Heidi’s lush bottom lip, Carine traced the rim of the glass with her thumb and fixated on the surface of the juice. “So, I guess the team’s excursion with the puce shirts went well?”
“Mm. We don’t usually expect to do any direct selling at events like that, but Tim said two calls about custom builds hit our sales manager’s phone before the end of the festival. The clients already transferred their deposits. High-end boats, so Tim’s meeting with them in-person next week. Naturally, the kids in puce are getting bonuses. They’re going to be insufferable for weeks, telling me, ‘See, Ms. D, we told you so.’”
At that curious statement, Carine had to look at Heidi again. She’d crossed her legs, put her back against the armrest, and looked elsewhere.
That meant Carine could stare all she wanted and scratch the itchy part of her brain that resisted the notion that she was allowed to have that sort of gaze for another woman. She’d been honest about having done sloppy things with women in college. She didn’t overthink those occurrences or even ask herself if she was attracted to the women. Carine had been entirely neutral about it all.
She couldn’t be neutral about Heidi. People couldn’t be neutral about shooting stars flying so near.
“What on Earth did they tell you?” Carine asked weakly, tracing the shapes of Heidi’s crossed legs with her gaze.
“When I was briefing the team, Jabari, in particular, told me ‘Say no more’ and ‘We got this.’ I needed to be on a call in five minutes, so I let them head out without our festival procedure list. I don’t know what they did when they were there, and at this point, I don’t care or want to know.”
“I guess your intern gets a bonus, too.”
