2003: L. D. Jansen stood on the steps of her apartment house, hands thrust into pockets as she watched the departing taxi glide down the block and turn the corner. She turned abruptly and strode purposefully into the building. Her concentration was such that she did not hear Dodge, the doorman as he bid her a good evening.
Jon Dodge found the enigmatic woman extremely attractive, not that he would ever let that little secret out. He watched her lithe, muscled physique as she strolled into the elevator. He was slightly perturbed that Ms. Jansen hadn’t responded to his greeting , but even as she marched by him he could see that she was deep in thought. He supposed it might have something to do with the cute, little redhead she had hustled into the taxi, handing the driver some bills for the fare. How did she pick up so many good-looking women? Maybe instead of fantasizing about her, he should ask her for some tips. The fact that L. D. was a lesbian did not turn him off at all. He had wondered why this was so, but not for long. He felt sensuality run off of L. D. Jansen in waves and he was hooked. He used his crumpled handkerchief to wipe his perspiring forehead. She always had this effect on him. How the hell was he going to keep this job with this situation?
L. D. entered the waiting elevator, punched the button and leaned back against the wall with her arms crossed. She was aware of Dodge’s attraction to her but had no inclination to play her usual flirtatious games. She was not interested in men or their petty needs. She also knew that many men found the idea of two women making love arousing and it disgusted her. As long as Dodge kept his hands and his thoughts to himself and respected her, there would be no trouble and he would keep his position. As the owner of the building, she did not generally concern herself with the day-to-day running of The Jansen, but there had been times when her clout was necessary to settle a dispute. L. D. kept her face a mask of neutrality until the doors closed. She exited the elevator, made her way to her apartment, entered and locked the door. Immediately she smelled the stagnant water from her tropical fish tank. Funny, she hadn’t noticed that while Shayna was there. L. D. smiled to herself. Of course, they had headed straight for her enormous bedroom, never pausing to admire the brightly colored fish swimming contentedly in the large aquarium. She glanced briefly in that direction and made a mental note to clean it tomorrow.
She wrinkled her nose as her own body odor assaulted her nostrils. She desperately needed a shower and her short, black hair was plastered to her head from perspiration. She would wash that as well. She knew she looked positively disheveled. Before taking care of hygienic issues, however, she made her way to her computer, switched it on and waited for it to boot up. Once on her computer’s desktop, she opened her web browser. Thank the Goddess for broadband; it was so much faster than her old dial-up connection. She would never live in an area where this service was not offered. She began searching for Solace. L. D. was in the zone and she needed to discover even the smallest detail about her beautiful, graceful partner. The fact that Solace had a visual impairment only heightened the attraction. Hopefully, the Internet would give up at least an e-mail address. L D.’s fingers hovered over the keys and then clenched into fists. She glared at the monitor and her stomach lurched. In her brief chat with Solace she had neglected to get the woman’s last name. Now she had nothing to go on. She ran a trembling hand through her damp hair. L. D.’s leg began shaking uncontrollably and she dropped a hand to her thigh to try to stop the annoying tick. She became aware that her entire body was trembling slightly. She and Shayna had indeed given each other quite a work out. She smiled at this thought. Neither of them had been disappointed. However, now that this sexual escapade was behind her and her body temporarily satisfied, she could now concentrate on the true object of her desire--Solace.
L. D. leapt up from her chair and stormed into her bedroom, removing her clothes as she went. Perhaps a shower would do more than cleanse her body, it might help relax her and give her some insight into how she could contact Solace.
As she stood under the cool spray, her eyes closed, L. D. replayed the dance sequence. She became powerfully aroused. This was madness. She was not going to be able to go about her daily activities. She rinsed, toweled herself off and walked naked into her bedroom. Her eyes alighted on the telephone and she was struck with an idea. She was such a computer geek she hadn’t even thought of a good old-fashioned telephone call to Ardena. She would simply ask for Solace’s last name. She hoped her actions would not raise too much suspicion. No. L. D. knew how to be cool. That was a reputation she had cultivated for many years. She grabbed the handset and dialed the number to the dance studio. Franz answered and L. D. asked to speak to Ardena. She knew the woman often stayed late to work out new routines. She hoped this time was no exception.
When Ardena answered the phone she sounded a bit tired, but generally in her usually good spirits. L. D. launched right into the reason for her call.
“Ardena, it’s L. D.” she began.
“L. D.?” replied Ardena, surprise evident in her voice. “To what do I owe this honor?” This was the first time the woman had called her. She sensed it must have to do with one of her dancers. Ardena knew L. D. was a player, but so far there had been no complaints. She surmised that the ladies were not adverse to L. D. Jansen’s technique. God knew, the woman was charm personified. Ardena smiled to herself thinking that L. D. reminded her of herself.
“Two things. I wanted to thank you for pairing me with Solace today. She’s a fantastic dancer. Has she been studying with you long?” L. D. hoped Ardena could not hear the nervous anxiety in her voice.
“Oh. You’re welcome. You know I’m big on experimenting. I thought you two might make a good pair. This time I was right on the money, L. D. Solace Tynan is a natural. She’s got the “it factor. I just wish people could see past her visual impairment.” Ardena’s pride in Solace was transparent. She was known for saying what she felt. How she managed to do so with aplomb was a well-guarded secret. All Ardena would admit to was a plain, old-fashioned Southern upbringing.
Ardena thought she might have said a bit too much, but L. D. seemed genuinely interested in Solace and she had definitely thought about paring them for the next recital, so they would be getting together in any case.
“That is a shame,” L. D. said sincerely. She had experienced first-hand how people were quick to judge and pigeonhole a person in order to make themselves feel more comfortable and secure. “She should definitely be on Broadway. You said her name is Tynan? Wow! I thought she was of Latin extraction.” L. D. fished. She absently twirled her Cross pen.
“Well, Solace has an interesting background. I’m sure you’ll get to know her as you two work together. Her last name is all I’m giving out, L. D.” Ardena said, the last sentence injected with a stern note.
“Thank you, Dena. I’m sure you’re right about that.” L. D. replied, filling her scratchpad with the name Tynan.
“And L. D.?” Ardena said in a quieter tone.
“Yes, Dena?”
“You treat Solace right. She’s not one of your conquests to be conked on the head and dragged to your lair. I’ll know. Solace is an open-book. She’ll tell me everything. Do you get my meaning?” Ardena waited for L. D.’s reply.
“I do, Ardena. I would never hurt Solace.” L. D. answered, taken aback by the thinly-veiled intensity in Ardena’s voice. She would have to tread lightly with this one. She thanked Ardena and hung up.
L. D. dialed directory assistance and was informed that she needed at least a street address to narrow her search. She had no idea where Solace lived, but she decided to work her way through the S. Tynans in Manhattan and then fan out to the other boroughs if that became necessary. She repeatedly dialed directory assistance until she had a list of ten numbers. She would begin making her calls this evening. But first she had to take care of a very urgent, throbbing in parts south.
Casey and Leander sat at a table in the corner deli. She had called him on his cell phone and requested that he meet her at their favorite haunt. The food was questionable, but the establishment was conveniently located. Casey supposed they could have met in either apartment, but the day was lovely and she felt like people-watching, which was one of her favorite pastimes.
“I’ve got an idea.” Casey said as she nibbled on a French fry.
“Uh-oh. Maybe I should leave now.” Leander replied, giving his sandwich a sniff. “Doesn’t this smell stale to you?” he asked, thrusting the sandwich under her nose.
“Leander, please. I need your full attention here,” Casey said as she swatted his hand away, sandwich and all.
