Queen of Love

“Does it bother you?” Genevieve pulled herself closer and traced the corner of her mouth with a white-tipped fingernail. “You haven’t said much about it. The tabloid, I mean.”

It wasn’t what Aya had planned for post-sex pillow talk, but luckily for Genevieve, she could mentally multitask even in this fugue state. “It hasn’t affected me any. You said you took care of it, so it won’t happen again.” For untold millions, apparently. Genevieve assured Aya the pictures had been purchased from the publication and subsequently destroyed. Oh, and she had now paid them off to not post anything personal, which was what she thought the original deal was anyway.

Genevieve wrapped her hand against Aya’s bare shoulder and nuzzled closer. “I never know how someone might take it. Not only the tabloids… but I don’t really have a type, physically. I’ve dated masculine women who didn’t like it when people thought they were men, even innocently. Singapore can especially be conservative. There’s a lot of pressure to present as hyperfeminine, regardless of your sexuality. Perhaps, especially if you’re not straight. I would know.”

“I suppose. It doesn’t really bother me. There’s sort of a power to it, you know.”

Aya felt that mouth turn into another grin against her shoulder. “You wield it well. That power.”

”Is that what attracts you to me? My masculine energy?”

She was flippant in asking, but Genevieve took it as a serious question. “Yes. No.” Genevieve was like a lucid dream cuddling up against Aya, who pensively stared ahead as if she suffered insomnia. “You’re very much a woman to me. I think what I like is how confident you are. Every time we’ve encountered one another, you’re so self-assured and comfortable talking to me. Even people in my own social circles aren’t like that. I’ve dated women for months at a time, only for them to still feel like they were inferior to me by the end of our relationship. I don’t much care for that. I want my partners to know I see them as my equals. Status wise, intellectually…”

“Monetarily?”

“Ah, well…”

Aya’s knuckles brushed against Genevieve’s cheek. “I suppose for a lot of women, it takes some getting used to. It’s one thing to be rich. It’s another to be as wealthy as you.”

“I’m not like the women you usually date, am I?”

Aya detected dejection in that soft voice. “You mean besides being Singaporean and wealthy? You’re not that much different, honestly. I’ve dated plenty of non-Japanese women in my life. Plus, I’m used to conducting relationships in English. Being with you has sharpened my skills in ways they haven’t been in years.”

“I’m glad I could be of service.” A dainty hand reached for Aya’s stomach beneath the covers. “By the way… I really like you, Aya.”

Those words took her by surprise. A confession already? Perhaps that was Aya’s upbringing putting her on alert. In Japanese, to say like was akin to already busting out other L words. She sometimes had to remind herself that there were bigger distinctions in English.

“You’re simply saying that.” A phrase Aya had picked up abroad.

“No. You occupy my thoughts all the time.” Genevieve’s hand went from rubbing Aya’s stomach to catching her fingers near her diaphragm. “I can’t sleep until I see your goodnight text. When I wake up, I imagine you beside me. It’s been so long since I last felt this way about someone. It’s like… I want to spoil you silly, in all the ways I usually do with my girlfriends. It’s one of the best things about all this stupid money, but you’re not into the kind of spoiling I usually conduct, are you? In fact, I keep thinking of ways you could spoil me… and that gets me very excited. I’m coming into my forties, and it’s like uncharted territory. You might have turned me into a teenager again, Ms. Aya.”

Aya rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow. She wanted to loom over Genevieve, who might as well have been the fairy flitting through that lucid dream she brought to this bed. “I’m good, but not so good I can age you back twenty-five years.”

“I don’t mean to scare you off,” Genevieve softly said. “I’m not, you know, pushing for something more than we have now. I simply wanted you to know how I feel. I like you enough that I’m here in Japan when I don’t have to be. If you don’t feel the same way about me, it’s fine.”

Aya chose her words carefully. “Who said I didn’t?”

The way Genevieve’s eyes lit up was better than any birthday present Aya had ever received in her life. “I know it’s really soon,” Genevieve said, “but I’m ready to move up a notch if you are.”

“What does ‘notch’ mean?” The only definition Aya was familiar with had to do with woodworking, and only because her American host father had a studio in the family garage. Was that related?

“I’m sorry. It means like the next level, but not as big. I’m trying to not be too… what’s the word… needy. Or moving too fast. I have a habit of doing that sometimes.”

“What would that look like?”

“Well… we’re still long-distance for a bit unless I can carve out time to get back to Japan for ‘business.’ It would be much easier if they opened tourist visas again.”

“We can drag out this house-hunting of yours as much as necessary. I’ll always have something to show you when you come back if that’s the problem.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I finished closing on the building in Shinjuku and will have plenty of excuses to come back for capital B business. Meeting with contractors, painters, plumbers… anyway, I know it’s not good for you to be publicly connected with me right now because I’m technically your client, but…”

”As long as we keep it lowkey, they won’t care. It’s only a problem if it fucks with the company’s image to other clients.”

“Yes. I’m aware.”

“Sorry.” Aya collapsed against the bed once again. “Tell me what this notch entails.”

Genevieve bit her lip as she braced her grip against Aya’s side. “I want… I mean, if you’re into it…”