Queen of Love

Chapter 35

“There’ssomeonehereto see you,” Brunhilda announced from Genevieve’s bedroom doorway. The early summer sunlight burned through the windows, and the curtains flung open so Genevieve was forced to confront the hot day. The rays still weren’t long enough to reach Brunhilda’s feet.

“Who is it?” Genevieve asked from her vanity, where she pretended to brush her hair. “If it’s Rachel, tell her I’ll be at the event later this afternoon. Don’t worry.”

“She asked me to introduce her as…” Brunhilda sighed, the weight of some paramour’s words crushing her chest – and her sanity. “Your most unforgettable woman.”

Genevieve perked up. “Is it Aya? Why… who…” Last she heard from Aya, she was back to showing apartments and executive offices for rent. Didn’t she say she was showing a five-bedroom penthouse to Ophelia Wu? The baroness of Macanese gambling didn’t often pay attention to Tokyo due to its strict laws. What did she want with such an expensive piece of property unless she was planning on spending at least one month a year there? A month spread out over a year, but still. “Tell her I will meet her in the parlor in fifteen minutes. I need to get dressed. No, don’t tell her that part.”

Brunhilda nodded. “Yes, Ms. Liu. Oh, and if I may?”

“What?”

“I like that green slip dress you recently bought. In case you don’t know what to wear.”

As it so happened, Genevieve was thinking of the same dress. It was perfect for the hot and humid Singaporean summers while still maintaining decorum. Which Rachel Tseng is obsessed with right now. She vetted every one of Genevieve’s outfits before she did an official outing. Genevieve doubted Rachel would approve of the spaghetti-strap dress that ended halfway down the thigh and accentuated the size of her chest, but this wasn’t for propriety! This was for the woman Genevieve missed the most!

She hastily brushed her hair and pulled it back into a low ponytail, followed by a spring-green hairclip and a light dusting of makeup that made her look more refreshed than made-up. She dithered between the heels that perfectly matched her dress and the off-white ballet flats she favored when walking around her own home. The ballet flats won in the end. She didn’t need her feet to impress Aya, of all people.

Or the person sitting in her parlor, for that matter.

“Wa, you didn’t have to dress so nice for me.” Nyla, in her ripped denim shorts and a baggy black sweatshirt, sat cross-legged on the chair by the window. Beside her was ice water with a lime wedge. Genevieve stopped in her tracks. Nyla Deng was the last woman she expected to see. She wasn’t due to meet Genevieve in Singapore for at least another day. “I do like green on you, though.”

Genevieve allowed the wind to shrink from her sails as she approached the small table they would share during Nyla’s visit. Brunhilda offered her employer water, and the only reason Genevieve didn’t shoo it away was because she needed to stay hydrated. It’s never been more important for my skin to be at its best.

“You’re early,” she said, slumping in her seat. “By the way, you flatter yourself. ‘The most unforgettable?’”

“Eh? Have you forgotten me?”

Genevieve forced herself up. No sense in allowing her posture to crumble because her ego was deflated. “No. Of course not. Forgive me. I thought you were Aya.”

“And because Brunhilda wouldn’t have let me get away with that if I wasn’t someone you knew… intimately?”

Genevieve was caught. Again. “Why are you here a day early? You weren’t due back until tomorrow.”

“I had my ticket changed to this morning. Honestly, I’m missing Terry like crazy. I don’t know how you expected me to go a full month without working the bar or seeing my girlfriend. You might get off on sexting, but it doesn’t do much for me. Or phone sex, for that matter. You do it once, you’ve done it already.”

“Please, I don’t need to know.”

“Ah, you’re still stinging from when Terry rejected you. I understand.”

Genevieve couldn’t let her ex get to her. Nyla never said anything from a disingenuous place, but she also knew how to push every button presented to her. You’ve got your work cut out for you, Terry. When they were dating – and when Genevieve was a practiced Domme – she and Nyla had many fun nights playing with her bratty personality. Those were the days. Best left in the past. “How’s the bar?”

“Straight to business! Everything finished a day early. That’s why I left as soon as I could. Thought you should know. What? You don’t have time for me?”

“You were scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. Anyway, did you bring pictures?”

“Fire up your tablet, Gen. You’re gonna love it.”

Genevieve summoned Brunhilda to have her bring the tablet kept in the master bedroom. While they waited, Nyla mentioned that the interpreter had done a nice job and that the hired bartenders should do well once the bar was opened in the next two weeks. When she asked if Genevieve planned to be there, she said, “Of course, and you too, of course.”

“Of course. The visa has already come through.”

“After you have time to rest up in Taipei, of course.”

“Of course.” They both knew what rest up meant. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I should know. The tablet arrived. Genevieve thanked her housekeeper and synced the cloud folder she had established with Nyla during the remodel.

She knew the pictures didn’t do it justice. Not even the orange neon sign that would light up the back wall of the bar. MANGO’S was written in a cursive font that evoked tarty femininity, the exact vibe Genevieve was going for in her girl bar.