“Come back in an hour.”  Becky said, pushing her glasses up on her nose and turning to her computers, tapping away on one with one hand, and a second with the other hand.  Alice walked out of the room, wondering if she used both sides of her brain to do that.

~*~*~*~*~*

            Doyle watched Alice leave before looking to Susan, arching a questioning eyebrow.  Her green eyes smiling as her mouth stayed still.

            Susan nodded slightly, face and eyes impartial, as if nothing unusual had just transpired.  And in fact, nothing had.  Women who came to Susan for sexual experience sometimes found it difficult to accept that sex was all Susan would offer them, and that offering it, and taking it, freely was what she did. 

Doyle had avoided the emotional trap that Alice was stumbling into because her instincts about people were almost as strong as her instincts about places and spaces.  And she understood Susan, as well as anyone could. She knew that however much Susan enjoyed fucking her, love was out of the question.  Doyle was sure that Susan was capable of love, she just hadn’t met her match as of yet.  Somewhere along the way, she’d closed her heart to that gift, shut it off and shut it down.  So Doyle took what she could have, gave as freely as she could, and learned to be content with it.

            On Susan’s nod, Doyle moved to the chair vacated by Alice, which put her next to Tina.  She sat down and began to summarize her vision of what the space could become.  Jenny watched and listened, slipping her hand into Marina’s and squeezing tightly when Susan brushed her hand down Doyle’s arm and smiled.

            “A café?  It is what we spoke of; we have not really solidified our intentions.” Marina said, acknowledging Jenny with a hand squeeze of her own.

            “Yes,” Doyle nodded, tapping her lower lip with a finger.  “It’s perfect.  This town doesn’t need another leather bar.  Susan, between you and Marilyn, you must own…what?  Six clubs?  Twilight hauls in a huge lot of the dance clubbing, because of the private rooms, Jo’s brain child.  And then there are the undergrounds….”