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“Coded language for too queer,” Lola snapped like she was still insulted. Like she carried it in the front of her mind. Like it lived crushed between her molars.
Leonie shrugged. “They’d already cast a lesbian. A femme one who was playing for IVF money after she and her wife had spent all their savings trying to get pregnant.”
“Sheila.” Carmen recalled her storyline.
“And my child-free, single, dyke ass just wanted money for my own spot.” She laughed.
“And they had a gay quota,” Lola bristled.
“Well, they thought they did.” Leonie didn’t drop her smile, gaze shifting to Lola. “I don’t know exactly what she said, but Lola went back to the production people to discuss their note.” She turned back to Carmen. “That show changed everything. I went from totally unknown to winning it all. Got the capital to open this place and found some folks with big money to see investing as a golden opportunity...” She motioned around the lively rooftop bar. “All because Lola wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Lola waved it off with unexpected modesty. “I just knew you were a star. You did all the hard work.”
After telling the bartender to make them her favorite key lime and mint juleps, to which Carmen did not protest that she didn’t drink bourbon, Leonie told them to sit back and enjoy what she’d send them from the kitchen.
“Your dates must swoon when you bring them here,” Carmen said, surprising herself with the thinly veiled question about Lola’s dating life.
Dark eyes flashed with something unreadable while Lola half-turned in her seat to face her. Energy shifting, Lola pulled herself back. Retreating from the brighter version of herself that had engaged Leonie.
“Do you think that’s going to come up in our defense to Fortune’s frivolous lawsuit?” she snapped.
Carmen picked up the glass in front of her, taking in the scent of fresh mint and lime leaves as she held it to her lips. Without dropping her gaze, Carmen tried something other than a head-on collision. “Maybe,” she joked. “Maybe she’ll want to depose you about all the soul flames that didn’t burn quite right.”
At the unexpected response, Lola’s lip twitched. It wasn’t a smile, but she wore her amusement on her lips in a way that made Carmen lean closer. That made her want to chase.
“Amuse-bouche,” a woman said from behind them. Carmen leaned to the side to allow her to set down two finger bowls with steaming water and two small dishes.
Intrigued by the perfectly stacked layers of mousse and gelatine and what had to be the most thinly sliced piece of octopus she’d ever seen, Carmen had to resist taking out her phone to snap a picture. She was studying the gorgeous design when Lola moved too fast.
Next to her, Lola reached for the finger bowl like it was a shot glass and knocked back the hot water meant to cleanse their hands after picking up the tiny offering. Carmen opened her mouth, but she’d moved so fast that she had gulped it before Carmen could warn her what it was.
Split seconds. Reacting to Lola always required immediate action, with potentially disastrous consequences. While Lola went for the food, Carmen only saw one avenue.
Fuck it.
Picking up the small bowl she hoped didn’t have soap in it, Carmen drank what they were supposed to use to clean their fingers and tried not to flinch. Next to her, Lola hadn’t seemed to notice. She was mercifully more interested in her food.
As soon as Carmen picked up the bite and put it on her tongue, she closed her eyes. The briny, salty creation melted as soon as she tasted it, leaving only the bit of octopus to chew.
“Jesus,” Lola moaned more than she said. “That’s incredible.”
Carmen let her gaze drift over Lola, remembering how she looked with her head tossed back and her lips parted and sighing for her. When Lola liked something, it was a revelation.
The server took their dishes away without making a comment about their empty finger bowls. Thankfully, everything else Leonie sent out to them was meant to be consumed with silverware.
“No wonder she killed the competition,” Carmen said after inhaling a deconstructed egg roll that had to be tasted to be believed. “She’s incredible.” Curiosity flared while she sat back on her stool. “What did you say to the production company to get them to change their minds about her?”
Lola reached for a glass of water. This time, she wore her smile on her full lips. After a beat, it was obvious Lola wasn’t going to answer her question.
“Oh, come on.” Carmen turned to the side, her knee hitting Lola’s under the table. Neither of them moved away. The heat from Lola’s skin was blocked by the fabric of Carmen’s trousers, giving Carmen the nearly unstoppable urge to rip them off. “I’m your lawyer,” she reminded without adding any caveats. “I’ll have to keep your secrets.”
Lola looked at her like a thousand sinful secrets ran through her mind at once. Like they’d manifested in the same pull tugging at Carmen’s core and wishing that they were alone.
The charged moment stretched, seconds feeling suspended. Lola’s gaze held Carmen captive, the rest of the noisy rooftop fading away. A flush rose on Lola’s olive skin as her attention traced over Carmen’s features, lingering on her mouth. Carmen’s lips tingled, craving the taste of Lola’s again. Even the thought of their last kiss ignited Carmen’s body, leaving her hungry for more.
“Dessert,” the server said before placing Leonie’s famous molten lava cake between them, shattering the moment with what Carmen should be wanting instead of Lola’s lips.
Before she could reach for her fork, Carmen’s smart watch buzzed with a notification. All at once, she remembered why they were there. What they were supposed to be doing.
