Carte blanche, p.21
Carte Blanche, page 21
Blanche’s cheeks burned when Jazz’s lip slipped out from between her teeth.
“Work?” A young Black woman whom Blanche hadn’t noticed—nor ever met before—spoke up. “Did you just come from a scene?!”
“Uh…” Blanche blinked at the eager, young femme, her hair in box braids and with a lip ring, beaming up at them excitedly. “That’s confidential.”
“Oh my god, you’re so right. Sorry!” She pressed her lips together. “I’m just, like, your biggest fan. I love your YouTube channel! And your SubParty! I love you!”
“I have a YouTube channel?” Blanche asked Jazz quietly.
“You really need to pay Tara and Lee more,” Jazz teased, licking the paper as she grinned over her shoulder. “They use your PG educational content to advertise the subscription-based platforms.”
“Are Tara and Lee your editors? They’re so funny!” The young woman gushed.
“Jules!” Mimi hissed, glowering at Blanche’s hand on the back of Jazz’s chair. “You said you were gonna be cool.”
Jules as in Julissa? Blanche kept their mask in place, fighting the urge to react. Mimi’s new girlfriend was the only member of Jazz’s polycule that they hadn’t yet met. Maybe Jazz hadn’t told her partners about the kiss; maybe Mimi was upset because her other girlfriend was a fan of Blanche’s? That had to be it.
“Yeah, but Blanche is so amazing, Mimi! Like, all the shit I know about kink came from their channel.” Julissa turned to Blanche, hero worship in her eyes. “And honestly, you’re even more magical in person.”
“Aren’t they gorgeous?” Teddy smacked the table, finally breaking free from her phone to wink at Blanche and blatantly check them out. “Seriously, Blanche, you look like you stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine, and you’re not even wearing makeup!”
Blanche beamed, cheeks heating. “You’re going to give me a praise kink, Teddy.”
“Is this where you film your scenes now?” Julissa looked around the room in awe. “Can I see your set sometime?”
“Only clients are allowed there,” Jazz said coldly, handing Blanche a slightly lumpy joint and a lighter.
“Thanks, Beautiful.” Blanche took the joint and lit it. “And yeah, clients only, and I’m not taking any new clients right now.” Better to nip that in the bud before Julissa got any ideas.
Julissa pouted. “Darn, I was hoping you’d be open to training me to domme. Like you did for that educational series you did over the summer.”
“Well, if I ever decide to take on an apprentice, I’ll post about it on my SubParty.” Blanche exhaled the smoke from their lungs slowly, hoping the obvious sarcasm would get Julissa to drop it. Her attention was flattering, but Jazz’s jaw was tight, and Mimi was frozen, staring hard at the table. And here Blanche had been trying to smooth things over.
“Oh my god, I’d love that!”
Julissa would need to learn to read a room before being anyone’s domme.
Mimi glared at Blanche, faking a cough. “It’s a little smoky in here.”
Blanche raised an eyebrow at the half-full ashtray on the table, but took the hint and passed it back to Jazz. “Thanks, Jazzy. I’ll bring my tea upstairs, let you get back to your game.”
They were halfway up the staircase when Jazz called out behind them to wait up, holding out the tea they’d forgotten. Blanche descended a few steps to take it from her. “Thanks.”
“Sorry.” Jazz winced, her hands lingering on the mug and around Blanche’s. “About that in there. I didn’t know Julissa was a fan.”
Blanche put on a tight half smile. “Never apologize for someone else’s behavior, Beautiful.”
“Will you come back? And play the game with us? Or just hang out?” Jazz asked shyly. “I can try and rein in Jules.”
Blanche shook their head. “I think a few of you would like that, but not everyone would.”
“Mimi. Sorry.” Jazz sighed. “I can talk to her—”
“Jazz, go play your game.” Blanche softened their smile when Jazz winced; their stomach soured at the thought of hurting her. “I don’t want to impose on your polycule date night.”
“You could, if you want though.” Jazz’s voice tugged into a hopeful question at the end.
Blanche sighed, their patience and willpower running equally thin. They had never talked about that kiss, and chaste as it was, Jazz shouldn’t hope it might become something more.
They’d finally admitted what had happened with Shayla, who had listened to Blanche ramble for most of the session, before finally asking Blanche what they wanted to do about it. What choice did Blanche have? They had to set boundaries. Though she’d hid it well, Shayla had looked as disappointed as Blanche had felt as she helped them figure out what to say.
They cleared their throat, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m not part of your polycule, Jazz. And I am too drained for the energy in that room.” Jazz flinched, and Blanche’s chest tightened when her hands fell from theirs, leaving the mug with them. But they should have nipped this in the bud a week ago. While they might have some…feelings for Jazz, they did not want to navigate the murk of her extended relationships. “Look, I know we haven’t talked about that kiss yet, but to be clear, we are friends and roommates. That’s it.”
Blanche wanted to take it back the second Jazz’s face fell. To kiss the hope back into her eyes, and let them both live in delusion that they might have a chance of joy from whatever might blossom between them. Because Blanche could count on one hand the things they truly wanted, but wanting wasn’t enough to overcome their rationality. Jazz was technically their tenant—their much younger tenant—and Lee’s sister.
“I know.” Jazz nodded, stepping back, her eyes downcast. Her lips, which should be smiling, trembled as she frowned.
“Good. Glad we could clarify that.”
It was not good, and Blanche was not glad. Each step that Jazz shuffled in the opposite direction physically hurt. But reaffirming the boundary of their friendship was undoubtedly the right thing.
Normally, doing the right thing didn’t suck so hard.
“Good night, Jazz.” Blanche turned and walked upstairs.
Jazz didn’t glance up as she walked past the staircase. “Night, Blanche.”
Sunday, September Twenty-Sixth
Chapter Seventeen
Sunny
“Where’s Dumpster?” Luna asked, looking around as she sat at the dining table in Richard’s condo. For once, it was decorated, with a lace tablecloth that Richard had dragged out from the depths of his linen closet, a bouquet of flowers, and a few candles lit for ambiance.
Richard had invited Sunny’s mother and sister over for dinner to “lay the groundwork,” as he called it, for their plans. Sunny wasn’t sure what ground he was talking about, but she interpreted the gesture as an opportunity for him to ask for Birdie’s approval to propose.
Since he still hadn’t done that yet.
Sunny sucked her teeth. Instead of proposing, Richard had been planning. He’d created lists and spreadsheets and decision matrices galore, planning out the timeline for her surgery and their wedding and the honeymoon and the fertility clinic and how many kids they would have and how old Dumpster would be when their potential third child was born and—
“She’s in the guest room. It’s impossible to cook seafood with her around.” Richard set a platter of seared salmon filets on the table. “She’s been trying to get in the fridge since I brought this home.”
As everyone helped themselves to the salmon, couscous, and lemony asparagus that Gabe had recommended as foolproof, Sunny decided not to mention that Dumpster had already succeeded. Neither teeth nor claws had punctured the butcher paper, but her precious demon cat had dragged the filets across into the living room before Sunny took them away. Neither Richard nor her mae needed to know that.
“So,” Richard said, taking the first bite of his salmon. “We’ve been discussing marriage plans.”
“Oh, finally!” Birdie pressed her hands together. “I thought you’d never get engaged! A few auspicious dates are coming up—it’s a little fast, but I’m sure we could coordinate with your parents to find one that works before the holidays.”
“Oh, no.” Richard shook his head. “There are several milestones planned before then.”
“Milestones?” Birdie raised an eyebrow.
Richard gave Sunny a questioning look. She nodded at him to continue as she took a big bite of salmon. To her surprise, the pepper-crusted skin was the perfect texture—maybe Gabe had been right; she and Richard hadn’t managed to fuck it up. After all, this was Richard’s plan. Sunny was happy to be along for the ride, as long as he eventually proposed, and she got everything she wanted. Namely, a better ring than Tara got, cute as her story was.
“Sunny’s surgery, first and foremost. And even if she won’t let me pay for it,” Richard and Birdie shared an exasperated huff, “she is letting me add her to my health insurance to bring the out-of-pocket cost down. So, that won’t be until next year.”
Birdie tsked. “So I might be dead before I get grandchildren.”
“Mae, you are so dramatic,” Luna sighed. “How about congratulations?”
“Congratulations for what?” Sunny nudged Richard’s foot under the table, mostly teasing but also not. Lee had bought Antonio’s engagement ring weeks before he proposed, Gabe had Tara’s hidden away for months. And while she’d spent months under the impression that he was waiting for her to give him the green light, Richard hadn’t even made a proposal spreadsheet yet. At least, not one that he’d shown her, and her eyes had glazed over with how many of his spreadsheets she’d looked at the past few weeks. “Talking about marriage? I have no ring on my finger.”
“Do you want a vintage ring or not?” Richard nudged her back. “I can buy you an overpriced diamond freshly released from the De Beer’s stockpile if you’d prefer. Or perhaps one freshly mined by child labor?”
Sunny glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Then you have to be patient. I’m still figuring out how to get the ring I want to give you out of my parent’s safe.”
Sunny growled under her breath; she wasn’t thrilled about his idea to get one of his mother’s rings. Sure, she’d insisted on something vintage (if he got her a new ring, she’d feel too guilty to enjoy it), but she hadn’t meant for him to ask his mom for an heirloom!
“Are you planning a heist?” Luna asked eagerly.
“I wish.” Richard shook his head. “I’ll have to get lunch with my mother. Twice, probably.”
“I’m coming with,” Sunny and Birdie said simultaneously.
“What? No!” Richard looked between them. “Neither of you are going.”
“So what, am I to meet your parents at your wedding?” Birdie shook her head. “Unacceptable. If we’re going to be co-grandparents, I need to get on their good side so they don’t try to steal the good holidays.”
“You will never meet them because they will not be invited to the wedding. Nor will they ever meet their grandchildren.” Richard’s tone left no room for argument. “They are awful people who would traumatize any children we have.”
“Which is exactly why you’re not going to see her alone, Dicky. I’m coming with you,” Sunny insisted, setting her fork down. The idea of playing nice with Barbie made her skin crawl, but the idea of Richard facing any verbal abuse alone was unacceptable. What kind of wife would she be if she didn’t shoulder that with him?
Richard’s blue eyes dug into hers, before he conceded with a minute nod. “Fine. But we’re meeting her where she’ll have friends. Hopefully, she’ll be less…abhorrent with an audience. And without Dad.”
“So when do grandchildren come into this plan of yours?” Birdie took a bite of asparagus.
“Mae, seriously?” Sunny and Luna asked.
“What? I have to wait for your surgery, the wedding—who knows how long that will take, and how long it could take to conceive?”
“Sorry our lives aren’t moving fast enough for you.” Sunny rolled her eyes. “I already have a surgery appointment for a consult in January, Mae. Hopefully, I’ll be ready to walk down the aisle by summer.”
Birdie pursed her lips with a nod. “I’ll contact the temple and see if any of the good dates are still open for next summer.”
“Actually, we were thinking of getting married at Gabe’s family vineyard.” Sunny tried to hide her grin. She didn’t want to ruin the surprise. “The Coopers have a nice wedding venue about an hour outside the city.”
Birdie’s jaw tightened. “You’d make the lama drive an hour for a wedding?”
Sunny bit her lip, trying to act casual as she shrugged. “Miriam can officiate, right, Dicky? Gabe’s mom is super sweet. She’s basically Richard’s adopted mom.”
“You don’t want a Buddhist wedding?” Her mother’s lower lip trembled, her eyes widened in hurt.
“Well, not for the legal wedding,” Richard said, glancing in concern at Sunny. She nodded quickly; she’d expected her mother to get mad, not cry! “But the second one will be.”
“Second wedding?” Birdie looked between them in confusion.
“I was going to make you sweat a little longer, but you looked so sad, Mae,” Sunny laughed. “We’re going to have a civil ceremony at the vineyard. And well, we should ask Yai for help booking whatever the best place to get married in Chiang Mai is.”
“You’re going to Thailand?!” Luna stood up with a shriek, couscous flying from her mouth.
Sunny’s heart was close to bursting as she bounced in her chair. “No, we are. All four of us! But we might leave you home with table manners like that.” Sunny wrinkled her nose, picking couscous out of her hair. “We were going to honeymoon there, but we figured why not have another ceremony? Courtesy of Richard, of course.”
“If we schedule our PTO and Sunny’s medical leave right, we can probably swing at least two weeks there.” Richard studied his plate, likely envisioning his spreadsheets. “Longer if we can work remotely.”
“Once we’re back, and depending on the scheduling at the clinic,” Taking Richard’s hand under the table, Sunny exchanged a smile with him before turning to her mom, “We could be expecting your first grandchild within a year.”
Tears streamed down her mom’s cheeks.
“Mae, are you okay?”
“I haven’t been home in thirty years.” Birdie’s voice trembled. “I never thought I’d see my parents again.”
Luna and Sunny both leaned over to hug her.
Waving them off, Birdie wiped her eyes and collected herself. “Thank you, Richard. You’re going to be a good son-in-law.” Richard’s cheeks pinkened. “Well, I guess we’ll have to move in when the baby comes. Might be crowded with Luna and I in the baby’s room, but your condo is nice enough.”
“No way in hell!” Richard barked, coughing in surprise at how sharply he’d spoken.
Sunny smacked his leg. “Dicky, that’s my mother you’re talking to.”
“My apologies.” Richard cleared his throat. “Respectfully, no way in hell.”
Birdie raised an eyebrow. “You won’t allow family to help when the baby comes?”
“Guess we’re not going to ask if I want to move to help with the baby,” Luna sighed, nibbling at her asparagus. “This is closer to school, though.”
Richard narrowed his eyes. “The new house plan will have to accelerate, but if we’ve moved by then, you may stay for two weeks after the baby is born.”
“New house?” Sunny asked. “There’s a new house plan?”
Richard snorted. “I’ve shown it to you twice already, and you immediately glazed over both times.”
“We will stay for six weeks,” Birdie countered.
“A month,” Richard returned.
“Done.” Birdie extended her hand.
Richard shook it.
“I’m sorry, important question?” Sunny raised her hand, annoyed that she’d somehow accidentally chosen someone far too similar to her mother as a husband. Capricorns, ugh. “What’s wrong with the condo? It’s already paid off.”
“I thought that would be obvious.” Richard looked meaningfully at her. “Sure, we can convert the guest room into a nursery, but I assumed you’d want a separate game room.”
Sunny scoffed. “I can just set up my computer in the living room or something—oh.” There was a sex swing mounted in the ceiling of the guest room, as well as bolts in the wall to tie the cuffs to. And a rack full of floggers hanging in the closet that she definitely did not want her mom to find, let alone her future children. “Should we get something with a nice yard?”
“A fenced-in backyard is weighted highly on the decision matrix, yes.” Richard nodded in way that told Sunny she should already know this. “I was thinking over South near Gabe and Tara, but I’m impressed with the neighborhood where Blanche and Jazz’s house is. The schools there are excellent.”
A tab popped up in her mind, demanding to know what exactly was wrong with Eastside. Three more tabs popped up after it, explaining exactly why Eastside wouldn’t be the best place to raise a family. Sunny’s stomach squirmed with guilt; would she really discount Eastside, the neighborhood she loved (despite its many problems), so quickly?
“Well, Blanche’s house. It’s not technically Jazz’s, even if she lives there,” Sunny corrected archly, instead of pressing on the new house location. She minimized the Eastside tabs, waiting to examine that until she’d had a chance to actually look at Richard’s spreadsheet.
Richard shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that Blanche and Jazz seem very in sync, even for roommates.” Richard got that glint in his blue eyes whenever he was sitting on gossip. The corner of his mouth lifted into the slightest smirk. “They’re constantly watching each other and doing little things like neck rubs or refilling each other’s glasses without asking. It’s very…coupley.”
“No. You think?” Sunny would have to pay more attention. She pointed at Luna. “You didn’t hear a word of this conversation. Don’t go gossiping about Jazz around campus.”
