“Aw, hon, I’m sorry. I can see you’re uncomfy, and that’s not what anyone wants—in fact, I’m pretty sure that’s why Hortencia is keeping Pauline occupied for you right now.” She nodded over at the central dance area in front of the stage and bandstand, and Sera caught sight of Hortencia and her aunt engaged in a hip-wiggling Latin dance number. The two women were surprisingly agile, considering their age and the fact that they were still shackled to each other. As she watched, Hortencia looked up, caught Aruni’s eye, and deliberately steered Pauline deeper into the crowd, away from the two younger women.
“Do you think I ought to go talk to them?” Sera asked reluctantly. “I’ve still got the key to their cuffs, after all.”
“I suspect those two will do just fine tied together for the night.” Aruni winked outrageously. “In fact, you better hope they’re staying at Hortencia’s place tonight if you don’t want to get serenaded by a whole lot of O’s overnight.” She stuffed her yap full of the last bite of Frito pie. “Seriously, though, you’ve never thought of doing something about your prob? I mean, it must really be a bummer when you’re in bed with a dude and he isn’t getting you there… I know you said you’re not seeing anyone, but what if you want to start?”
What if, indeed? Unwilling to explain the particulars of her problem, Sera started to brush Aruni’s question aside with her standard line about focusing on her career, when her gaze was caught by something across the plaza. Or rather, someone. Someone with whom she would very much like to get “there,” if her deepest fantasies be known.
Asher Wolf was sitting with a group of musicians on a bench under the portico shading the Palace of the Governors, hat half obscuring his face as he crowded in close, looking over the arm of one of the festively dressed mariachis at the fiddle in the man’s lap. Sera wasn’t sure exactly how she’d zeroed in on him among so many hundreds—it was, she thought with wry amusement, as though she had special Asher radar, allowing her to home in on her enigmatic landlord through any obstruction. As she watched, he lifted the violin with its owner’s permission, cradling the neck in one careful hand and bringing the instrument to his chin, close to his ear. He tested the strings with his other hand, plucking at them and listening intently before tightening one of the pegs and listening again. At last, he nodded with satisfaction, then attempted to pass it back to the musician. The man clapped him on the back, shaking his head, and instead offered him the bow, urging Asher to play. The others, strumming guitars of varying sizes and shapes, also egged him on, but Asher just laughingly demurred.
“You know what, Sera?” Aruni asked, oblivious to the direction of Sera’s gaze. “I think you should start taking some baby steps right away. Like, try some exposure therapy.”
“Who’s tryin’ what kinda therapy?” Janice drawled, trotting up to them and throwing her arms across their shoulders companionably. “Dang, y’all, I thought I’d never make it through that crowd! Do not, I repeat, do not ever drink a forty-eight-ounce travel mug fulla Big Mama kombucha unless y’all wanna wait forty-five minutes for the chance t’ experience the world’s stanky-ass-est port-o-potty. Pee-uuuu!” She shook her head as if to rid her nostrils of the memory of the stench. “So, what-all are we talking about?”
Sera dragged her gaze away from Asher, but the picture of him, so at home here in the heart of Santa Fe’s artistic community, stayed with her as she turned her attention back to her new friends. Before she could deflect the conversation onto more comfortable topics, however, Aruni jumped in.
“We’re working out some of Sera’s kinks.”
“Yeah?” Janice looked impressed. “How’re we doin’ that?”
“We’re not sure yet. We just decided to try. Right, Sera?” Aruni gazed expectantly at Sera, who gulped.
“Actually, um, I don’t think we did decide that—”
“Count me in!” Janice cried. “Ooh, I got a great idea!”
“Awesomesauce! What is it?” Aruni’s already wide eyes went manga cartoon-round. “Janice is the best at this kind of thing,” she informed Sera.
“I am, ain’t I?” Janice smirked. “So listen up. I got it. What our Miss not-so-Wilde needs tonight is a good old-fashioned Back Room Babes dare!”
“Who’s throwing down a dare!?” came an outraged voice. The three turned to see Syna, Bobbie, Crystal, and Lou-Ellen had joined them. River Wind was close behind, carrying a picnic blanket. She sent Sera a quiet, commiserating smile and spread the blanket for the women on a patch of grass being vacated by a family with small children who looked tuckered out from the festivities. “No one’s doing a dare without us to witness,” continued Syna, flopping down gratefully on the blanket. She waved the smoked turkey leg in her fist regally. “We witness or it didn’t happen!”
The others heartily agreed, plunking themselves down and pulling Sera with them.
Sera groaned as she sat cross-legged on the rough woolen blanket, but she was already cheering up. The faces of the women around her were lit up with goodwill and relaxed joie de vivre, inviting her to be part of the grand celebration taking place all around her. They didn’t seem the slightest bit inclined to treat her like a pariah—in fact, just the opposite. It was like having a dozen sisters all of a sudden, and if it was a little weird, going from relative orphan to Brady Bunch so abruptly, it wasn’t half bad. “Guys,” she tried halfheartedly. “I’m fine. It’s really not that big of a deal. Please don’t make a big stink…”
But oh, yes, they intended to make a big stink. “Dare! Dare! Dare!” they chanted.
Sera covered her eyes, envisioning being stripped naked and chained to a giant Maypole-sized dildo in the center of the town square. “Have mercy,” she squeaked. “Or… or I swear I’m never baking for a single one of you again.”
That gave them pause.
“Okay, guys,” Aruni said in the silence that followed Sera’s threat, “let’s just make it a little one, for tonight. How about… hm. I don’t know. What about flashing your boobs?”
“Too many kids around,” warned Syna. “Including mine. John’s just over there with my son Jimmy”—she pointed across the plaza to where a sandy-haired man was herding a towheaded ten-year-old over toward a carnival booth, “and nice as your rack is, hon, I don’t want him catching an eyeful before he graduates college.”
“Thank God,” breathed Sera. There was no way in hell she was letting any nip slip tonight, dare or no dare.
“Anyhow, no offense, ’Runi, but how’n heck’s that supposed to help her with her little hiccup?” Janice wanted to know.
Yeah, how? Sera thought. I’m already about as mortified as a woman can get.
But she was wrong.
“I’ve got it!” Syna beamed. “Something wholesome and helpful.”
“Dish it, Syna!” All eyes were on the curvy redheaded mom, eager for her answer. She did not disappoint.
“This one’s perfect. It’ll help her boost her confidence, and also practice letting loose, but it’s not, like, dirty or anything.”
“Spill it, sister. We’re dying here,” snickered Crystal, cracking her tattoo-covered knuckles.
Syna rose to her feet, her cheeks rosy with merriment. She swooped down and grabbed Sera’s hands, tugging her to stand by her side.