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“You’re quite right, yes.”

“And the paintings on the far wall,” Olivia pointed. “Vivid splashes of color to tantalize the eye... Very abstract shapes but, clearly, these are dancing couples. Cuban?”

“Indeed,” Grace approved. “That’s the Miami vibe you can feel.”

“It’s warm. Effortlessly sensual. Yin and Yang with the rest of the space. It feels calm but also stimulating.” Olivia flashed a delighted smile. “I love this space. It’s very you.”

“I’m glad you do. I designed it.”

“Really? Wow!”

It occurred to Grace in that instant that no amount of praise in specialist magazines, awards, or millions in the bank, indeed, could ever again make her feel as good as Olivia’s beaming smile of admiration.

“I love the words you use to describe it,” she let her know. “You picked up on all the things I wanted to achieve and delivered a keen assessment. This is the mark of a talented woman, and a gifted artist as well.”

In the middle of the lobby, Olivia’s smile suddenly turned wicked and she came to throw both arms around her neck.

“No longer such a baby dyke, am I?”

“Ah.” Grace had to laugh at the reminder. “No longer. But I never meant it as an insult. And you are still attractively butch.”

“You like that?” Olivia sounded deliciously amazed.

“Might do.” Grace winked.

???

The weekend went by in a blur. A pleasurable interlude filled with all the things she had grown quietly, uncharacteristically excited about sharing with Olivia during the week. She took her to SuperBlue first off, with its digital walls of blooming flowers, amazing waterfalls, and mazes of glass. In front of the flickering lights that were supposed to record and respond to viewers’ heartbeats, without a care for the other people around them, she grabbed her for a passionate kiss. And thoroughly enjoyed the ensuing result.

“It works,” she approved, and Olivia chuckled.

“Does it?” she argued sweetly. “Let’s try it again just to be sure.”

They dined at the ever-popular A-KO Miami, an upscale Korean barbecue restaurant, and finished in South Beach at the Bachata dance club.

“You’re really good at this,” Grace complimented. “Smooth and relaxed. And a quick learner.”

“I just love watching you move. And to have an excuse to rub against you.” Olivia wiggled her eyebrows. “All very basic, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be so modest. You’re very good, end of.”

“Okay!” She laughed. “And you’re a great teacher.”

“As for the other stuff, no excuse required. In fact, let’s go home now. I’d love to rub against you without clothes getting in the way.”

Olivia was wearing the set of new clothes she had bought her for the occasion, because Grace wanted her to enjoy the full experience of Bachata. So, now, there was the added pleasure of peeling her new hipster trousers off her strong legs and ripping open the tight bodice that went with it. The night was steamy and playful. It shifted into a long sensual shower the next morning, after which they shared a lazy breakfast on the terrace, with views of the Gulf in the distance.

“How about a drive?” Grace suggested.

“Oooh!” Olivia licked her lips at the sight of the gleaming Ferrari. “When you said you had one of these, I was pretty sure she would be red.”

“Oh yeah? How come?”

“Hot and sexy.” Olivia winked. “Just like you.” She went on as her lover snorted ironically. “Can I do handbrake turns in this?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”