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“I’m fine, really,” Megan assured her. “Now, tell me about Kat.”

“We’re moving in together next week,” Abby declared.

Megan’s mouth dropped open.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you,” Abby said laughing, enduring a quick punch on the arm from Megan. “Anyway, it’s been great with Kat. Her and I are…Wait, what’s that sound?”

Megan listened and then rolled her eyes.

“That’s round two,” she said and then directed Abby’s attention to the open third-floor window. “Sienna and I were out here trying to not hear them having sex just now.”

A particularly pleasurable yell came from the third floor; whether it was Angela or Desiree, Megan couldn’t tell.

“Wow, somebody is doing some good work up there,” Abby said. “Kat and I didn’t hear all this in the kitchen.” Abby then got a devious look in her eyes. She started looking around at the ground and after a moment picked up a pine cone that had fallen from one of the trees landscaping the property.

“You’re not!” Megan said, giggling.

“Oh, I am,” Abby confirmed just before she chucked the pine cone straight through the open third-floor window with the expertise of someone who had once played college softball. Megan heard the pine cone strike something and then rattle around in the room, causing the sex noises to suddenly stop.

After a moment, a very confused Angela peered out the window, holding a bedsheet up to cover her chest.

“Oy!” Abby yelled, pointing towards the beach. “There are impressionable young kids out there who don’t want to hear you two going at it like animals! Close the damn window!”

It took a moment, but Angela suddenly went white as the sheet she was holding and her eyes and mouth opened wide in shock.

“Oh my God!” she uttered, disappearing back into the room. A few seconds later, Desiree also gave an “Oh my God!” after Angela presumably told her about the window and the fact that Megan and Abby were downstairs and able to hear them.

Laughing, Megan and Abby saw an arm, and only an arm, reach up and push the window closed.

Chapter 35

What Vanessa wanted to be focused on was the two photos Megan had texted her. The first had been that shot of her in the bikini, with the one strap falling off her shoulder. The second had come in about an hour ago. It was a rather artsy shot of Megan’s bare hip, with that same bikini, now off, draped across her thigh. When Vanessa had seen it, all she could think about was biting that hip, knowing the kinds of sounds Megan would make in response.

Instead, what Vanessa was focused on were numbers. Specifically, the numbers on the spreadsheet her laptop was displaying as she sat in the back room of La Vida Mocha. Things in the front of the coffeeshop were being handled easily by Chloë, who knew to shout out if Vanessa was needed.

The numbers were telling Vanessa that La Vida Mocha needed to do more business. The partial reopening of the state was helping, sure, and by all appearances, it looked to be permanent. As long as there wasn’t another wildfire-like outbreak of Covid cases, Vanessa could expect to return La Vida Mocha to the operating hours she had established back when she had originally opened in January. Even now, with these shorter hours she had been running over the past couple of weeks, people were coming out in droves and patronizing the shop.

The problem was that there was a lot of financial ground to make up. The complete shutdown that had started in March followed by the take-out only restrictions imposed on restaurants and coffeeshops had cost a lot, and though Vanessa was not at risk of losing everything yet, she really needed La Vida Mocha to get back to paying for itself like it had been pre-Covid.

Sighing, Vanessa logged into her Chase account and transferred some more of her inheritance to her business account to give the shop an infusion of cash for the next several weeks.

Later, after the shop had closed and all the clean-up had been done, Vanessa and Chloë got into Vanessa’s Jeep for the drive back to the beach house.

Pulling out of the parking lot, Vanessa said, “I want you and Luli to do me a favor when she joins us next week.”

“Sure. What?”

“Ideas. I want ideas for coming up with some more income for La Vida Mocha. We gotta make up for all that time the state was on lockdown.”

“Sure, I’ll think about it,” Chloë promised, “but I actually already have some thoughts about that.”

They were stopped at a red light and so Vanessa looked over at Chloë.

“Really? Tell me!”

“Well…I know you said at the beginning that you didn’t want La Vida Mocha to be this quote-unquote lesbian coffeeshop, but I kind of feel like you’re missing an opportunity. I mean, obviously, we’re not going to call it ‘La Vida Mocha, the Lesbian Coffeeshop’ but Carlsbad is the perfect place to prom

ote the fact that La Vida Mocha is not only lesbian-owned but is an overall safe space for queer women to come and hang out in.”