They moved to the adjoining room, where chairs ringed the oval table. A white linen tablecloth set with white china and decorations of light blue and peach made the table look festive. Sitting down after complimenting Mary, and keeping an eye on things, Annelie made sure Carolyn ended up next to her.
"What brings you to Florida, Carolyn?" Deena, a Canadian romance novelist, asked as she unfolded her napkin.
"I'm visiting a friend and also attended the Nebula Circle's fundraiser. I hear the evening made a lot of money for the children."
"It did," Annelie agreed, "thanks to generous people like you."
"I just bought a few books," Carolyn said. "I saw somebody buy a painting for a tidy sum."
"True." Annelie nodded. "We had some nice things for sale."
The women spent the following half hour mixing their appreciation of Mary's food with conversation. Sarah, a diminutive woman from Texas, entertained them with an outrageous story about her mother's latest adventure.
"I can't believe it!" Carolyn gasped for air between bouts of laughter. "They called 911 because of a beeping hearing aid?"
"It's a true story," Sarah vowed. "My mother and her sister honestly thought the mysterious sound came from a crashing satellite from space."
Annelie laughed until her stomach hurt. Suddenly she felt Carolyn put a hand on her knee for support as the actress doubled over, laughing deep in her throat—a thoroughly sexy sound.
"Right!" Sarah sighed. "And this is why my partner says she's genetically concerned!"
Annelie looked at Carolyn, amazed at how relaxed the other woman seemed. She had joined in the fun, listened intently to Sarah's story, and the sound of her laughter had made Annelie shiver.
Throwing her head back and laughing again, Carolyn wiped tears from her eyes with a peach napkin. She winked at her hostess and began, "That reminds me of an incident while I was filming in Spey Valley, in Scotland…"
The women around the table listened intently to Carolyn's story of strange noises in the night turning out to be rampaging sheep. Animated, her eyes sparkling, the actress had them all in her hand, and she obviously knew it. Her hands. I always loved her hands. Well-kept and expressive, they moved with the tale, emphasizing Carolyn's horror when the sound outside the cottage had come closer. She demonstrated vividly her trepidation when she approached the window, reaching out to open an imaginary window above the table, only to recoil quickly, pressing the right side of her back against Annelie's shoulder.
"I heard something go ‘bah.' Very loud." Carolyn's voice was a mere whisper. "I stopped in midair and leaned forward again, actually sticking my head out the window." She leaned forward again, eyes wide. "Something wet, and cold, and in dire need of a breath mint, appeared half an inch before me!"
Pulling back, Carolyn again pressed against Annelie, to demonstrate her dismay. "At least a dozen sheep had escaped their confinement and were crowding my garden."
Unable to keep from laughing along with everybody else at the look on Carolyn's face, Annelie realized the other woman had once again placed her hand on her knee. As if Carolyn had just noticed this as well, she casually withdrew, resuming her relaxed posture on her chair.
The conversation kept flowing easily among the women, and Carolyn seemed to appreciate the friendly banter. She was the center of attention but also utterly charming as she questioned the others. Each of the women present was obviously flattered that Carolyn Black showed an individual interest in her. When, occasionally, she turned directly to Annelie, her eyes held nothing of the resolute defiance from the other day. Instead, they seemed more blue than gray, indecipherable. How much of this is an act, Carolyn? All of it? Some? It could be so easy to merely assume you're being honest. That this is really who you are.
A few moments after Mary cleared the lunch plates away, Annelie rose and said, "I'll just go see if Mary needs a hand with dessert."
"I can help as well," Carolyn offered, getting to her feet.
This raised a few objections from the other guests, who seemed to be enjoying her company. Lightly, Carolyn said, "Talk among yourselves, but make sure it's about me. Okay?"
Annelie was astonished to hear Carolyn make this small joke at her own expense. Peals of laughter followed them down the hallway to the kitchen.
Mary was loading the dishwasher. "I've whipped the cream but that's all," she said. "You can decorate them if you want."
"We're having chocolate mousse with whipped cream and raspberries," Annelie explained, opening the refrigerator. She located the cream and spooned some of it into a piping bag. Then she started drawing small circles of cream on the mousse.
"Looks delicious, but then again, so was the entire lunch," Carolyn said. "Are the berries going on top of this?"
Annelie shot her an amused look. "Yes. If you'd like, you can stack some raspberries just inside the circle of cream—about five of them on each." Glancing at Carolyn, she smiled again, watching her stick the tip of her tongue out while focusing on her task.
"I normally don't cook," Carolyn confessed.
Annelie laughed. "I have news for you. This isn't cooking. This is decorating."
"Ah, semantics." Carolyn wrinkled her nose at her hostess. "This is harder than putting butter and marmalade on toast, which is where I normally draw the line."
Annelie shook her head. "You've got to be kidding. Marmalade on toast? That's about the least nutritional thing you can possibly eat."
"Nope, not kidding. And I happen to love apricot marmalade."
After decorating the last bowls of mousse, Annelie moved to her left. Carolyn moved to the right at the same time, reaching for the last of the berries. Standing close enough for their arms to touch, she arranged five berries on the last two bowls and ate one of the two leftover fruit.
Lifting the other, she held it close to Annelie's lips. "Want the last one?" The suggestive gesture was contradicted by what looked like innocence in her eyes.
Ignoring her instinctive reservations, Annelie lowered her head and took the berry. Her lips briefly touched Carolyn's fingertips, and as she crushed the fruit with her tongue, she watched those remarkable eyes widen.
Annelie did not avert her gaze, and for a long moment the two women stood transfixed, Carolyn's attention riveted to Annelie's mouth. Moving slowly, as if unaware of what she was doing, the actress placed a slender, caressing hand over Annelie's elbow and stepped well within her personal space, leaning in as if to kiss her.
Annelie could sense heat radiating off Carolyn's body, permeating the air around her. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears and feel its telltale presence in her cheeks. Not until Carolyn was just a breath away from her lips did she attempt to pull herself together. Mustering enough strength, she managed to withdraw a step.
"Annelie?" Carolyn's voice was almost inaudible, her eyes dark and wide.
Swallowing hard, Annelie found her voice. "I'm sorry. I can't."
Their eyes locked; neither woman was able to pull back completely. Annelie tried to gauge Carolyn's expression. She didn't seem hurt, but instead surprised and bewildered—stunned at her own initiative. Annelie couldn't imagine why Carolyn had tried to kiss her. Surely she knew Annelie was gay; it was virtually an open secret. Touched by something completely vulnerable in her expression, Annelie raised a tentative hand, wanting to temper the rejection. But before she could speak, rapid steps announced Mary's presence and Carolyn sprang back a step.
"I see you've done a great job. Do you want me to bring it in?" the housekeeper asked.
Annelie immediately snapped out of her daze. "No, no, that's okay. I'll take them. Why don't you bring the coffee, Mary?"
She did not know whether to give Carolyn a reassuring smile or not, so she lifted the tray and walked out of the kitchen, hearing the actress follow her.