After grabbing Aurora's clothes, Hazel led Aurora back to her private dressing room. The dancer was beaming; she was obviously happy to see Rora again, and she grinned at the reactions she was getting from her old acquaintance. The truth was that Hazel seemed better than ever. When Aurora and Silvio had crossed her path, she was a waitress battling to just make it into the room for every audition, running herself down as she chased her dream. Now, she was the dream. Her golden hair was straight and sleek, her blue eyes gleamed with energy and excitement, and she seemed rested and happy. As she spoke, she turned around so Aurora could change privately.

"I can't tell you how nice it is to see you, Aurora. I was working so much when I came here to LA, it was hard to make friends. Most of my friends now are also 'in the business'. There's a couple good ones, sure, but sometimes I feel like half of them hate me for being successful and half of them just want to use me to get more jobs for them."

She shrugged. With a quick check of the mirror, she saw that Aurora was dressed and turned back to face her.

"And meeting new people... it's like... how do I know they actually want to be my friend? No, I've got a couple people from home, a couple friends who started out with me here, then you and Silvio."

Hazel grinned.

"That was just one night we had together, but it was a hell of a good time. Silvio's kept in touch, mostly, although I haven't heard from him for a while now. How is he?"

Aurora's smile faded.  She knew it would have to be said but she had hoped it would be after a few drinks and off the clock for poor Hazel.  "His beloved Lia made it out from Sicily.  They were married in a small private ceremony.  I stood up for them."  she forced a small smile remembering the happy moment.

She swallowed, "There was a ... conflict."  she sighed.  "Silvio had lost Lia earlier in the night and when we found ourselves pinned down and unable to flee... he bought us time to get on a plane out of the city."

She furrowed her brow.

"I made went back to make sure he and Lia were laid to rest together, as he would have wanted.  They have headstones in Las Vegas if you want to visit and leave flowers ever."  Her voice trailed off to a whisper, "I'm sorry."

She felt like she was saying it to Silvio as much as she was Hazel who only barely knew the man.  Aurora stared at the floor, thinking of the stars... knowing she'd never see the same way ever again.

Hazel's hands shot to her mouth in horror and her luminous eyes welled with tears. Wordlessly, she hugged Aurora the way that someone grabs onto a lifeboat. There was nothing romantic, of course, in the expression of shared grief- but Aurora_Mastrosimone would still be smelling the lavender scent, which Hazel had just reapplied, when she walked off the lot. With a quick intake of breath, Hazel detached and ran to her vanity, grabbing two tissues and dabbing at her eyes.

"I can't- shit! If I fuck up my makeup then..."

Over the next couple minutes, Rora watched everything play out on Hazel's face as she looked into the mirror and fought to preserve her makeup. The very act of focusing on that seemed to help Hazel get things under control. Finally, she took a deep breath and sat down again.

"I'm sorry, I know you were much closer to him. It's just the surprise, you know? We'd hung out a couple times after that first night. You were busy- out of the country or the city. He was such a fun man, always with a joke. Easy to be around, you know?"

She took another deep breath.

"Okay. I think I mostly contained the damage here, but I want to make sure that I don't greet Hercules on the beach looking like I just got dumped..."

Hazel forced a smile at Aurora.

"I've got to run to makeup. I'll see you at six!"

She felt like she was saying it to Silvio as much as she was Hazel who only barely knew the man.  Aurora stared at the floor, thinking of the stars... knowing she'd never see the same way ever again.

Aurora emerged from the dressing room in her normal clothing with her costume in her grip.  She shot Keats a look but otherwise just indicated with a nod that he should follow her. 

"We've got our meeting."  She said as they exited the set and emerged back out into the sunshine and onto the main lot.

"She's agreed to dinner.  We need to come by at six tonight to pick her up."  She sighed.  "So, we have a few hours to kill.  LA is our oyster, whatcha wanna do?  We could see some sights or, if you're still feeling groggy I could take you back to the hotel and let you nap a bit more.  I'll be fine... I kinda have a lot on my mind right now so maybe some downtime wouldn't be so bad.  You know, I could get in the right headspace for the date tonight."  

Keats raised an eminently curious eyebrow.

"The date?"

Aurora stopped.  She blushed.  "Your date.  The dinner.  Our dinner with Miss Harcourt."  she shook her head.  "You know what I mean."

Keats smirked, but he also processed how Aurora spoke about needing some time; perhaps the topic of the murdered friend had come up. 

"I propose," he began, "that we find a hotel that has two rooms, and we each catch up on our rest before our evening begins."

Aurora, seemingly grateful, nodded.

_______

"May I just say again, Mrs. Mastrosimone, that you look wonderful tonight. If you weren't married, I'd be questing after you this evening like the Grail itself. However, as I have a deep personal regard for you, I will maintain my distance and respectfully salivate."

Aurora sighed, but she couldn't stop the corner of her mouth from curling as they finished their walk toward the studio gate. Keats was wearing a tuxedo with a white jacket and shirt, black bowtie, and black slacks. His shoes clicked on the cement as they approached the studio in a way that reminded Rora of her Grandpa Jack, all those years ago. Aurora was wearing black cocktail dress and, as she passed her reflection in one of the large windows, she had to admit that she agreed with Keats' assessment of her. She looked good. So did Keats. But Hazel Harcourt blew them both out of the water from the moment Aurora clapped her eyes on her. Aurora would have noticed Keats staring- if she hadn't been so busy staring herself. 

Hazel looked like she'd been poured into her orange off-shoulder dress; her bare, sun-kissed shoulders and the dress's sweetheart neckline demanded attention, particularly with the sapphire necklace she was wearing that matched the blue of her eyes. She was in the same great shape that Aurora remembered from their previous meeting, but once again Rora noted how much more comfortable and rested she seemed. Keats, for once, was speechless as Hazel approached and grinned at Aurora. 

The young man quickly recovered and he flashed a smile in return at Hazel.

"It's a pleasure to meet you- my name is John Keats. You must be Helen of Troy?"

Hazel chuckled, "Maybe someday... but for now, Queen Hippolyta. Let's head to dinner? I don't want to rush us off the lot, but I missed lunch with all the excitement from my new co-actress here. There's a great seafood place just a few blocks from-"

They were interrupted by a production assistment who had a variety of forms for Hazel to sign. With a sigh, she pulled the whole group over to the car that was waiting for them. Making her apologies to Aurora and Keats, she sat in the front seat, skimming the papers and signing them. Keats sat in the back, in between Aurora and the production assistant. It was tight quarters, and he winked at Aurora twice before she jabbed him in the ribs. 

When they arrived at the seafood restaurant, the production assistant returned in the car, while Hazel, Keats, and Aurora exited. They were seated immediately, despite the line of people waiting, and Aurora saw several knowing glances follow Hazel throughout the room. Her old acquaintance wasn't a huge star- not yet, at least- but she was well on her way.

They sat beneath a hanging light the illuminated Hazel's golden hair; the actress sat on one side, while Keats and Aurora sat on the other. With a sad smile on her face, Hazel reached out and deftly laced the fingers of one hand with Rora's.

"Thank you for telling me about Silvio. I... suppose I knew. He told me that the two of you were... involved... in things. And when he stopped sending me letters, well.... I guess I knew. It's still hard to actually hear it, though. Especially after he seemed to be doing so well. He was quite the man... thank you, for telling me."

She sighed.

"You know, it's strange to think how much one night can impact your entire life. That night with you and Silvio, I felt like I was another few weeks from hanging it up and moving back home. But everything that he did and you, you most of all, the way you reacted to my dancing just gave me so much confidence. I took that into my audition and..."

Hazel shrugged innocently. 

"... dance?" inquired Keats with a grin, "we'll have to have a demonstration later." Hazel was about to protest when Keats interrupted her. "Oh, I was referring to myself, of course. I'm quite the dancer, if I may say so."

"Oh, Mr. Keats? And are you classically trained?"

"Of course."

In Latin, Greek, and a dozen other things... although dancing isn't one of them.

Hazel was smiling over the rim of her water glass at Aurora; her voice had a musicality to it that gently tugged the ear and led one along. 

"Well, this place isn't quite the moon," joked Hazel, "but I am glad to have a bit of fun tonight. Tomorrow I've got to fly out to make a godawful appearance somewhere..."

Aurora looked down at Hazel's fingers laced into her own.  A part of her thought about pulling her hand away after the point of kindness had been made, but, no.  She didn't. 

She let Keats and Hazel joke, she watched the woman as they did, she'd barely taken her eyes off her all night as a thousand things went through her mind - things she wanted to tell her.  All about the kids and Billy and the struggles she was going through.  It was madness.  What the hell did Hazel care about those things?  She barely knew Aurora and the lioness couldn't think of one good reason to dump so much unnecessary information onto the other woman.  

She smiled when Hazel suggested she was having a good time tonight.  Aurora wanted her to have fun.  She deserved it... or, it felt like she did. Again Aurora internally chastised herself for feeling so damn familiar with a woman she knew nothing about.  

"Well, oddly enough you have that godawful meet and greet to thank for my arrival here today."  Aurora opened her purse and produced the folded up flyer, handing it over to Hazel.

"I had that put in my hands about twenty-four hours ago and didn't hesitate.  I had to come to see you."  She said with a smile and then corrected herself, " ... to talk about it.  The meet and greet that is.  You see my friend Keats here, I'm helping him out similarly to how I helped Silvio.  He and I are business partners.  My money, his brilliant personality and product, all profits ..."

Aurora gave Hazel's hand a squeeze, "Wait until you taste his whiskey it's like liquid gold, sunshine in a bottle, happiness in a fucking glass - Hazel you've never had a damn thing like it or I'll eat my shoe!"

She chuckled and then looked at their hands before saying, "I had hoped to convince you to tell me who hired you for the meet and greet.  The Dry Society is sort of a business rival to a place where we want to sell Keats' whiskey.  I'd love to know who they got recruiting talent for them because it's resulting in a shit ton of lost members and profits.  If I could get their recruiter to work for this other group we want selling Keats' whiskey, well... I know for a fact they'd be customers for life."

She shrugged.

"And with business thoughts out of the way... maybe we could spend the rest of the evening having some laughs.  Maybe break out some of Keats' nectar to share?"

Hazel sighed as she accepted the flyer, reading it carefully. With a final friendly squeeze, she released Aurora's hand under Keats' watchful eyes.

"Well," said Hazel, "I'd happily try some of this 'nectar' of yours, John. But as you said, Aurora, business before pleasure right?"

The actress sat with pursed lips, pensively listening to Aurora as her old acquaintance explained the situation. 

"This whole thing is just a mess. The guy you're looking for on the Detroit end is named Wilson Breer. He's one of the big sales VPs at Chrysler. I met him once, but..." she sighed "he mostly dealt with my old agent. But that's a whole other giant mess. I switched agents a couple months ago, and my old one keeps coming back with these "prior commitments" he booked for me, where he's really just trying to squeeze every dollar he can out of me. Every time I say no, he gets closer to launching a lawsuit."

Hazel was quiet for a moment, before her expression brightened.

"I'll tell you what. If you can help get my old agent off my back- scare him a little or whatever- then I can get you in touch with Breer."

Finally, something I know I CAN do!  Weeks of trying to do shit I have zero experience with and FINALLY the sort of work I actually excel at!  I wish I could go right out and do it now!  Of course, then I'd miss dinner with Hazel...

She picked up her glass of water from the table, "If anyone is ever giving you shit, I'm always just a phone call away, I mean it.  We're friends you and me.  Anyone who is a problem for you has problems from me - that's how this works.  Consider the matter handled, this old agent of yours is in your past, starting tonight.  Now, what's his name and how the hell do I find this money-hungry weasel?"

Aurora took a sip and watched Hazel over her glass, nearly forgetting Keats was there entirely.

Hazel smiled, and both Keats and Rora seemed visibly affected by it. 

"Perfect. Jimmy Rawlings, and he has an office nearby. I'm pretty sure he sleeps there, too, since his wife kicked him out. He'll either be there or a bar across the street."

Keats cleared his throat as their food arrived before suggesting, "Why don't we enjoy our meal, then handle this business? Afterwards, there's a bar I've heard excellent things about that we could try."

He grinned; this particular Long Beach bar had private decks on the rooftops overlooking the Pacific. There was no way he could afford to rent one out by himself, but... well, Rora looked like she'd be up for covering the tab. 

Aurora enjoyed a lobster tail.  It was the first one she'd had since that night Tara had taken her out to dinner when she'd popped into New York.  She'd been attending Vassar then, and not yet dating Billy.  Like that night, she laughed often and talked far more than she was used to.  Her company made it an easy thing to do.

At some point during the dinner, she broke the news to Hazel that she'd gotten married since they last saw each other.  She gave a sanitized reader's digest version of her and Billy's story.  Girl and Boy meet.  They date.  Fall in love.  Conceived a child and then girl believes her beau to be killed by a hitman in Sicily.  And how when she'd met Hazel, she was not only in mourning but pregnant!  Aurora hoped this explained her 'early departure' that night and her reluctance to indulge in alcohol. 

Of course, she had pictures to show Hazel and she spent a little time bragging about not only her adorable pudgy little boy and handsome husband, but the curly-haired beauty they'd adopted... Brigitte.  She, of course, wanted to hear all about Hazel's journey from waitress to Hollywood Starlet and expressed a little envy for her.  She really had a wonderful time on an actual motion picture set! 

Hazel was beautiful, but Keats had a way of reminding everyone that he was there with generous helpings of his wit and charm throughout dinner.  Listening to the stories of their lives and inserting in some colorful commentary.  Amazingly, with Hazel there, she utterly forgot to be annoyed with his constant flirting, instead, it just made her smile - which she did often.

Before long the dinner was done and Aurora found herself eager to handle business.  Wiping her mouth and she slid out of her seat and smiled at her companions.  "Keats, will you keep Miss Harcourt entertained until I get back - then we can check out this bar you've heard so much about - I'm honestly quite curious."

She gave Keats a coy wink and then gave a little wave to her female companion and almost danced out the door to the sound of Glenn Miller's 'In the Mood' which the restaurant's house band was playing.  Giggling her way out onto the sidewalk she only then realized... she wasn't really dressed for work.  She looked down at her cocktail dress and heels and frowned.  

How hard could he be to intimidate?  He's just a Hollywood agent, probably some pencil pushing asshole who wouldn't know what to do if he met a real gangster let alone one who was armed and... of course, she was.

Rora made her way down the way, getting a few looks from people but not so many as back home.  In Detroit, women dressed elegantly and went out alone on the town ... but here in LA beautiful women trying to stand out were a dime a dozen.  And most of them just like Hazel were hoping to make it in pictures.  It was this angle, she decided was her ticket into the agent's office... if he wasn't drinking in the bar across the street at this hour.

Aurora climbed the stairs and noted the small bronze plaque on the door which read, 'Jimmy Rawlings, Agent to the Stars' and after only a moment of listening to hear if any of the other offices had anyone working late... she knocked.  Instantly she could hear someone rummaging around inside and she suppressed her smile.  The door came open a crack, a chain kept it locked, Aurora knew she could pop it if necessary but with how he looked her up and down she was pretty sure she wouldn't need to.

"Can I help you?"  He asked.

"You Jimmy Rawlings?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I heard you got Hazel Harcourt into pictures..."  Aurora purred.  "Is that true?"

Jimmy's pride was too big.  He smirked and unlocked the door.  "Yeah.  I did - you lookin' to do pictures too, Dollface?"

"I just know my face will be on the silver screen ... as sure as I know the sun will rise tomorrow."  

Jimmy motioned for Aurora to enter his office which looked pretty much as she expected.  A sad little desk and seating area, a hastily stowed pillow and throw blanket under the couch, photos on the walls of his successful clients - the only one she'd heard of was Hazel.

"Zowowee."  Aurora exclaimed. "You helped all these people?"

Jimmy puffed up his chest and smiled.  "I did.  Now um... tell me, you got some experience already?  Maybe some modeling or dance?"

"I do dance."  she admitted continuing to look around, a photo of his wife and kid on the desk... angled towards the couch a little too much.  He missed home, but he loved what he did here a lot... more likely he loved the beautiful young starlets if how he was looking at her now was any indication.

"You look like a dancer."

She chuckled.  "I do hear that often... I also sometimes get that I don't look as though I'm capable of having killed nearly twenty men... but you, know.  Appearances can be deceiving."  She said casually as she picked up the photo of his wife and kid.

Jimmy chuckled uncomfortably, "That ... that's some acting!  You are talented.  I mean, I almost thought you were being serious."

She chuckled with him and put the photo down as she said, "Oh I am."

Jimmy looked at the door.

"I wouldn't do that Jimmy... see, I'm here to talk to you right now... and if you run for the door I'm afraid that would obligate me to do more than just ... talk ... to you tonight."

"You're ... you're just a dame - some tiny broad.  A good actress, sure... but, if you think I'm scared of you..."

Aurora's amber eyes burned holes into the man's head as she spoke slow and softly, "Try it.  It'll take you five steps to reach the door.  Four if you run.  I'll take the stapler off your desk behind me and throw it at your head with such force you'll black out a second or three.  Long enough for me to straddle your body, pull the knife off my right thigh and give you a second smile.  I'll be back in the bar drinking with my friends in under ten minutes and if you're lucky someone will find you tomorrow after you're cold and pale.  If you're not lucky, they'll only find you after you start to stink or your wife starts to reconsider her position on your wandering eye.  Either way, you take a step toward that door and you'll be my lucky number 21."

Jimmy went as white and looked prepared to puke.

Aurora motioned to the couch, "Or you can sit down and we can talk turkey."

The talent agent sat down and folded his hands in his lap like a schoolboy.  Aurora wasn't sure that shit about the stapler was true... but she had to admit, it sounded good.  She'd have to tell her dad that one over drinks sometime.  He'd get a kick out of it.  It sounded like some bullshit he might have said.

"You're done with Hazel Harcourt."  She said flatly.  She could see by the look on his face he wanted to protest so Aurora continued, "No more pre-booked events and no fucking lawyers.  If my boss catches wind that you're trying to strong-arm her into any more work or are suing her, he's going to be exceedingly put out and believe me when I say that you don't want that kind of trouble. You got a really nice family there and they don't deserve to be put through the hassle of a funeral or losing someone who obviously cares about them a great deal."

"Now, my boss isn't a total shithead so here's what's on the table... accept this deal and not only do you keep your skin but I'll make sure you have a really nice gift delivered here to your office for your wife... and your kid.  A way to start that apology you can't seem to land on your own.  Also a small severance.  Cash.  One time only, but I'm serious as a heart attack here Jimmy... if you so much as call Hazel Harcourt, you're going to wake up some night to find my face is the last thing you ever see.  You get me?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Good boy, Jimmy."  She walked over to the wall and took down Hazel's headshot.  "You'll get your shit tomorrow.  I hope we never have to see each other again."

With that Aurora walked out of the office and pulled Hazel's picture out of the frame.  She threw the frame in the trash and walked back to the restaurant with the photo in hand.  Smiling she offered the photo to Hazel, "Would it be terribly droll of me to ask for an autograph?" 

Hazel had ordered a lobster ravioli pink vodka sauce- a dish that was quickly copied by their male companion, Keats. Did he order it just to give him more to talk about with her? He seemed like the type. Smooth. Young, though. She'd guess early twenties, but his youth was in his demeanor and actions as well as his appearance. Still, one could do much, much worse for an unexpected dinner companion. He deftly crafted the conversation without looking like he was working at it- the mark of a true master. 

During the first part of dinner, Aurora spoke the most. About her marriage- which was surprising to Hazel, but you couldn't begrudge a woman her happiness. It certainly seemed like she and Billy had been through a lot to forge the family they'd both wanted. He was certainly a handsome man. And Aurora had been pregnant when they'd met. For a moment, Hazel couldn't help but wonder whether the night they'd met would have gone differently, if Aurora's condition had been different. She supposed she'd never find out now... probably. Hazel grinned wickedly at Aurora across the table; the married woman was about to show pictures of her children, and Hazel's smile didn't exactly fit the mood. She dropped it, and listened with sincere interest and professional curiosity about Aurora's children. 

Keats continued to flirt unabashedly with both of them throughout the evening in a way that made Hazel curious. Obviously, he knew about Aurora's family situation. Was it just so much of his second nature that he couldn't or wouldn't turn it off? Or was he that close with Aurora? They certainly seemed friendly together. As "In the Mood" by Glenn Miller came on, Aurora excused herself to visit Jimmy. Hazel wished her luck and both she and Keats watched Mrs. Mastrosimone exit the restaurant. Hazel checked Keats' eyes first and saw him looking, so she figured it was safe for her to glance herself- except when she flicked her eyes back at Keats she saw two wicked green orbs smirking at her. 

"You know, Miss Harcourt-"

"Hazel, please. Any friend of Aurora's is a friend of mine."

Keats bowed his head with a smile. 

"Hazel, I do think that you're just as interested in Aurora as I am."

Hazel shrugged innocently.

"Why don't you tell me a bit more about yourself, Mr. Keats."

"Just Keats is fine. It's what most people call me. If you'd like to be my close, personal friend or paramour you can call me John- no one really does."

"Well, Keats," smiled Hazel, "tell me a bit more about yourself. Where are you from?"

"That's about as privilieged as information gets, actually. Not even Aurora knows that. As far as she and everyone else is concerned, when I turned 17 I dropped, fully formed, onto the campus of Oxford. I'll glad tell you about my life beginning there, but I'm afraid if you'd like to learn about my further backstory you'll have to get me drunk- or in an otherwise vulnerable position."

Their dinners finished, he sipped his beer as he continued.

"For example, I talk in my sleep."

"A trait," interjected Hazel, "that I'm sure your girlfriends adore."

"I don't have girlfriends. I do have women I see occasionally, but I'm not really the settling down type. I'd consider getting married when I was in my 20s some sort of crime against humanity- or at least womanhood. It's almost as great a crime as Aurora getting married so young, isn't it?"

Hazel's musical laugh floated over the table.

"On that, Keats, we agree."

"I thought we did. You look at her, frankly, the way I do. That's not even entirely correct- you look at her the way I looked at her the night she met me, before I knew about any husband."

Hazel shrugged, smiling but offering nothing. 

"Just call it... professional curiosity," said Keats. "I understand I'm a stranger. But I'm a nice stranger. And Aurora obviously trusts me."

Hazel sighed, "What do you want to know? I'm not answering anything I don't want to."

"Of course you won't. So. Do you like women in general? Or just Aurora?"

Hazel studied him a long time, glancing down into her third glass of wine before seemingly deciding to trust him. They were secluded, Keats seemed discreet, and her was a close friend of Aurora's. It might even serve her purposes to have Keats more informed. 

"Especially Aurora, but not exclusively. In my life, I've been attracted to both women and men. Nowadays, I do my best to limit my attractions and energies toward women."

"You sound like that's more a practical decision than an aesthetic one."

"It is. Do you have any idea what would happen to my career if I got knocked up? And sure, there's steps you can take there... but when you're faced down in a pillow there's only so much you can-" She ended her sentence abruptly, the barest hint of a blush on her face.

"No," smiled Keats, "please. Continue."

They shared a laugh, as Hazel moved on.

"Look, anytime I'm with a man there's a chance of something happening. How many times do you know of two women making a baby, though?"

"Once, but only because I believe God is a woman- and that particular case seems like an extreme one."

"Well, exactly."

"So my odds of waking up next to you tomorrow morning..."

"Are very, very slim."

"So you're saying there's a chance."

Hazel laughed again, "I suppose."

"And will you tell me how to navigate this narrow pathway to success?"

"That'd take all the fun out of it now, wouldn't it?"

Keats raised her glass to toast her, even as he ordered them two more. Thank God the waitress had cleared all their empty glasses; it seems that both he and Hazel had lost track. One thing was clear: when Aurora returned she would, by a sizable margin, be the soberest member of the party.

"You seem to flirt with Mrs. Mastrosimone quite a bit, Keats."

"I do. It's her own fault. I met her on a, well, let me tell you..."

Keats weaved the story of how he met Aurora, waxing poetic on her form, particularly as she dove into the pool. By the end of the story, Hazel was hooked.

"But you keep flirt, even though she has a husband. Why?" asked Hazel.

Keats shrugged, "I'm an aesthete. I admire beauty. I won't touch her- well, not unless she asks me too. Also, I have a feeling that if I ever did more than speak to her, it wouldn't go well for me. The only question is how her husband would kill me."

"You're right," laughed Hazel, "although the vast majority of men- not all, of course- might feel a little differently if they didn't need to compete with another man."

"Emphasis yours," said Keats. "Actually, I think Aurora-"

As if his thoughts summoned her, Aurora appeared in the doorway. More than a few sets of eyes turned her way, but Keats' and Hazels' fixed on her as she approached and handled Hazel a photo. 

Hazel quickly grabbed it and flipped it over, hissing playfully, "Not here! It'll make other people think they can walk up and bother me. Us."

Keats stood quickly, offering, "Well, we've handled the bill. We should head off to-"

"-your other bar idea," finished Hazel. "Sounds wonderful. Let's go now, before Aurora gives anyone any ideas." The actress smiled playfully at Aurora. 

The trio quickly gathered there things and Hazel stood up just a trifle unsteadily from the table; Aurora quickly supported her, which earned another smile. Hazel's orange dress was eye catching, and the three of them quickly retreated from the gaze of the diners to their own cab outside. Hazel audibly exhaled, glad that she hadn't had to deal with any fans. She rested her head back, and the sapphires hanging from her long neck gleamed in the streetlight. Keats had taken the front door next to the cabbie, while the women found themselves in the back. As they traveled, Keats seemed to help the cabbie navigate, discussing streets, as Hazel and Aurora chatted softly in the back.

"So tell me," asked Aurora, looking away from one of Hazel's bare, golden shoulders, "how did this big break of yours happen? You went from waitress to starlet pretty quickly. But I suppose that's how it happens, right?"

"Exactly," smiled Hazel, "it just takes one part. Some people never get it. And then I find out their doing this Greek movie. Trying to retell part of the Iliad. Do you know it?"

Hazel, half-drunk, murmuring, and leaning slightly towards Aurora, had dialed her charm up to 11- and focused it all on Aurora. 

"Well, you remember I told you I was auditioning for every part I could find. Well that movie had a need for about 20 different women with a speaking role, and I knew I looked good in a toga." She shrugged. "I was originally auditioning for either Briseis or Chryseis- and I thought I'd be lucky to get the second one. And my audition was going really well. I thought great, maybe I'll even be Briseis and get more of a speaking part. But they asked me to stick around and read with a couple other women; they were going to be auditioning Paris, and they wanted actresses to read the script at him, rather than 50 year old middle aged movie executives."

She grinned.

"Well one of the executives insisted that I read Aphodite; looking back, obviously a really good sign. Two other women read for Hera and Athena. I'm not sure how well you know the story, but Paris has to choose between Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite in a beauty contest. And, of course, they try to bribe him as well. Hera offers him worldly power- the chance to rule the greatest empire the world had ever seen. Athena offers him wisdom and skill in war. Aphrodite..."

Hazel smirked.

"... offers him the love of the most beautiful woman in the world. In the scene, it's obvious that I have to seduce him. Because practically speaking, who picks the woman there, right?! So I'm supposed to dance toward him... I'll show you later, if you'd like, but it's not really something you can do in a cab. Then I raise my hand to his cheek like this and say..."

Hazel raised her hand to lightly stroke Aurora's brow and cheek, tucking a strand of the other woman's hair behind her ear. Then she moved closer to aurora, her sapphire eyes shining bright that the ones that fell on her chest. Hazel's eyes were filled to the brim with desire- she seemed to practically pant the words as she stared.

"When you're with the most beautiful woman in the world, Paris, what care will you have for empires or war?"

She stayed for a few moments, enjoying Aurora's obvious attention, before she slid back to her seat.

"Well, I had every Paris they brought in to audition eating out of the palm of my hand, so they cast me as Aphrodite. And when the movie came out, well, Aphrodite is a pretty big part mostly at the end and the beginning. But I generated a lot of buzz... and here I am. I made it into the top eight or nine credits of that film, but now I'm getting billed in the top 3 or 4. Let's just hope it keeps up before-"

"I hate to interrupt. I really do," said Keats, "but we've arrived."

After paying the driver, Keats led the women into the bar. They could all hear the ocean crashing around them. Between Hazel's recognized face, Aurora's money, and Keats' talking, the host didn't need much convincing to get the three of them into one of the private rooftop decks. It was a balcony that extended out toward the beach and the ocean, offering a view of both while presenting a way to enjoy their company in relative seclusion. They could certainly hear other people, but they couldn't see onto the other decks. With the exception of the waiter or waitress, they'd be alone. The deck had a standing round table and four comfortable reclining chairs pointed out toward the water. The trio settled into three of chairs, sliding one off to the side. Aurora had wound up in the middle with Keats and Hazel on either side of her. 

"You have some catching up to do, Aurora," grinned Keats as the waiter approached. "Hazel and I had quite a few while you were gone. Sir, please bring her two of whatever she orders- and make them strong."

"Your best whiskey."  She said to him before looking at Keats and smirking, "Will be good to see how ours measures up against what a place like this calls it's best, right?"

She looked back to the ocean then and found herself walking to the railing.  Purposefully she put one hand then the other on it and stared at her hands a moment before looking outward at the moon over the crashing waves.  Lifting her chin she took a deep breath and as she exhaled she closed her eyes and took in the scent of salty air.  How she missed it!  Her heart ached for a moment as the scene and memory she thought to indulge in melted away and an unexpected one took its place.  Her grip on the rail tightened and the echoes of ghostly voices remained just out of distinctive hearing range - voices she'd know anywhere.

"Your whiskey, Miss?"

She knew then that they'd let her stand there a long while, the minute or two that it took to pour and bring back the beverages.  Had they been staring at her silently or just talking so quiet that she could ignore them as she strove to hear her Aunt chattering on about Race Street's history or her mother calling her to come inside?  

"Thank you."  She took the glass and shook off her melancholy the moment she saw Hazel's beautiful smile.  The first glass went down quickly after that.  The second, she worked upon.  It was a good drink.  The burn was intense, instead of sliding into a hot bath and feeling it envelop her the heat that hit her like the bite of a stinging lash.  She welcomed it though.  Looking into the glass she felt as though she might remark that this - not business - was in her blood.  An intense soft spot for strong liquor which helped dull the sharp pains under all the scars that life was leaving upon her heart.

She walked back over and sat down in one of the chairs with her companions. 

"Now that we're alone, maybe you want to talk about what happened with Jimmy?"  Hazel inquired.

Aurora nodded.  "Well, I pointed out to Jimmy that I am not a woman to be fucked with and,"  Her amber eyes met Hazel's, "...that you no longer belonged to him and that it would be in the interest of his continued health and well-being that he never again contacts you.  In fact, I want you to reach out to me immediately if he or his lawyers ever do reach out."

Aurora went into her purse and producing a pen she wrote down two phone numbers.  "One of these will get to me regardless of what should transpire in the future.  That one is to a message service that works for me... this one, that's my personal number to my office on The Riverwalk in Detroit."

She smiled as she handed over the phone numbers.

"You can call if you're in trouble... or you know, just to chat."  As Hazel took the bit of paper her fingers slid across Aurora's and goosebumps appeared on her arms.  Aurora pretended that she has a chill from the night air and chuckled but the color in her cheeks said it all.

"I'll do that,"  Hazel said softly.

Aurora finished that second glass trying to chase away the physical evidence of her feelings.  She shifted in her seat and gladly accepted her third whiskey of the night not speaking again until the waiter disappeared.

"You know, while I'm thinking of it... Billy wanted me to give you a phone number.  A gift, from him.  He heard I was coming out to meet you and he insisted that one night soon we all have dinner together.  He said he couldn't wait to meet you but he wanted you to have this."  She passed produced the note which contained Fred Astaire's phone number.  

"I'd find the right moment to use it.  It's not something to use lightly but applied at the exact right moment... well, it could open doors.  Just let him know you got the number from Billy Mastrosimone and that you're friends with his wife.  Fred and Billy go way back, back to before he got off the stages out east.  When I told Billy of how beautiful you were and of your breathtaking talent, well it just seemed logical to give you the means to connect with the world's best dancer."

Aurora finished her whiskey watching Hazel's reaction over the brim of her glass.  She realized then that she'd just told Hazel she thought she was beautiful but had gained enough courage (or drank enough whiskey) to not really feel odd about that - it helped that the words seemed lost amidst the sea of other things she'd said... namely the name of one of Hollywood's most important personages. 

Aurora wished, not for the first time, she had William's gift for saying just the right thing or Keats' gift for quoting the perfect poem or master wordsmith with an appropriately artful turn of phrase.  The moment was perfection.  Hazel bathed in moonlight and the soft ambient glow of distant illumination made by the hands of man.  The sound of the ocean.  Her breath.  The smell of her on the wind mingling with the bittersweet taste of the ocean on the air.  Hazel was warm sheets on a cool morning, the pull of gravity itself, water on the hottest day... Aurora yearned to tell her, to make her understand but all she could do was look at her longingly.

As Hazel finished gushy about her gratefulness for the gift, Aurora gave a little shrug and put down the glass from her lips, her tongue darting out to grab the last remnants of alcohol.  "I'm glad it's made you so happy.  My husband has a knack for giving just the right gift at the right moment.  My hope is that one he meets you he'll want to share with you another gift - one much more dear to him."

Her father had taught her was always the best policy, especially in marriage but right now she wished she'd taken the route of asking forgiveness rather than permission.  A man's ego, no matter how physically strong he was, could be such a fragile thing.  Of course, if she'd let Billy meet Hazel first then she might have found herself in a very different situation. 

Oh, sure he might have indulged her fantasy... but then Aurora might have had to worry about Billy losing himself in the tangles of her honey-hair and the vast sapphire pools that were her eyes.  What man, if given half a chance, would not wish to quench his yearnings with the soft-curves and caresses of the woman who had been Aphrodite herself?  And how would she feel if he wanted that?  Aurora had never thought herself very good at sharing... and in this case, it would feel like she was sharing both of them... her husband and her not-so-secret indulgence.

She supposed the idea of sharing Billy would bother her more, if only because some part of her thought with her pick of men Hazel would not look too long at her husband... but Billy, would he be the same after such an experience?  Billy who had known no other woman but her?  How would she measure up against the great Hazel Harcourt?  The woman who had been the goddess of love and beauty herself. 

There were few women who made Aurora keenly aware of her own short-comings, but Hazel was one of them.  She herself had the body of a lioness prepared to hunt, but Hazel was a gazelle.  Her lithe form balanced and elegant, her legs long and slender, all the curves in the right places with none of the hardness Aurora's worked so hard to achieve.  Was she so soft under that sun-kissed skin of hers?  Or was it all illusion somehow and she'd find taunt muscle mass... 

Aurora put a hand then on Hazel's thigh and gave a gentle squeeze and found it to be just as supple as she recalled.  It was a wonder that a woman who must train as hard as she did to keep in such perfect form, could be so damn soft! 

"I don't know how you do it."  Aurora looked to where her hand rests upon Hazel's leg, halfway between her hip and knee.  "I work out every day, I only took a short bit of time off when we had so much chaos going on... and I'm all hard lines and muscle.  While you, you're still so damn soft.  You and all the other dancers today looked like you really were the sirens themselves, while I... well, I could have understudied for Hercules."

She laughed, she wasn't quite so big as all that ... but compared to Hazel it was hard not to feel like a hulking beast.

"When you come to Detroit this weekend, maybe you can show me what you do?  Maybe we could give each other a real workout before you go off to that Dry Society meeting and I go to meet Wilson Breer."  Aurora's eyes looked down to her hand still on Hazel's thigh.  "And I do hope you'll let my husband send some of his guys with you to that meet and greet.  I don't want any of those drunk old bastards thinking to put hands on my ... dear friend.  What do you say, shall we plan for it?  You and me, the motor city, this weekend?  We'll have dinner with my husband when you arrive on Friday night after your day at the studio, and after that, he'll go home to see to the kids and it'll be a girl's night out.  We'll tear up the town for a bit, get a work out in first thing in the AM, and then get you off to your meet and greet on Saturday evening.  Of course, I promise to have you home in time for work on Monday."

Hazel watched as Keats scoffed politely as Rora mentioned comparing his whiskey to another's. The young man certainly didn't lack for confidence. She watched as Aurora walked to the railing, looking out over the beach. Hazel had grown up in a town surrounded by farms. They had the occasional pond, lake, or river, of course, but there was something about the ocean that spoke to her- spoke to everyone, she assumed. It was hard to imagine leaving it. As Aurora stared out over the waves, Keats and Hazel shared a look and a shrug. Hazel made an exaggerated motion of staring at Aurora that drew a soft laugh from Keats; he matched her for a moment before rolling his eyes and accepting the drinks on everyone's behalf. 

Keats, after trying the other whiskey, stuck out his tongue like he'd been physically wounded. He rocked backwards as if he'd been shot, before a glance from Aurora forced him to behave- well, as much as he ever did.

Hazel listened intently as Aurora spoke about what had happened with Jimmy. The actress began with a serious expression on her face, but was grinning wickedly by the end of it. She accepted the piece of paper with a grateful nod, slipping it into her purse. 

"I'll do that."

Hazel could only raise her eyes as Aurora presented her with Fred Astaire's phone number. She was a good actress, but her mouth dropped open.

"Rora, this... is amazing. I- please thank your husband for me- perhaps there's something I can do to help repay him? I'll certainly owe you one. And I agree; I'll wait to use this, I'm sure. Maybe after this next picture comes out I'll be big enough to... I'll think about it. Thank you- thank you so much."

Her hand reached for Rora's and squeezed it again. 

"But I hope you know your number is more important to me."

With a smile, she pulled her hand back. 

"You've certainly piqued my curiosity with this idea of another gift, though."

As Aurora rested her hand on Hazel's leg and began to speak, Keats coughed again after the second sampling of the other whiskey. 

"Ah, ladies," he interrupted, "please forgive me, but this swill seems to have upset my stomach. I think I need to retire early, but I hope..."

He raised Hazel's hand to his lips before bowing his head to Rora.

"... that this won't be the last time we share each other's company. Goodnight."

With a final bow, he vanished. Both women made their polite goodbyes, but both of them also seemed mostly focused on Rora's hand, even as she moved the subject to more professional concerns.

When Rora was done, Hazel rested her own hand on Rora's knee, sliding it up to her muscular thigh as she grinned mischievously. 

"And what's wrong with Hercules? But... if this weekend is what you really want, then of course we'll make that happen. I owe you one- no, two after those numbers you gave me." Her eyes practically burned into Rora. "I look forward to finding a way to properly express my gratitude."

The goose pimples returned with a vengeance as Hazel's hand moved.  "It's just... Hercules was such a muscled mook.  All brute force and ..."  She chuckled nervously.  "Hardly feminine in the slightest."

She found herself leaning her head to the side to meet Hazel's eyes which seemed intent on looking down to their thighs and their hands, creating halos of warmth on one another's flesh. 

"You, on the other hand, are the very image of what a woman should be.  It's not that you're not strong, you are strong, but you wear it differently than I do.  Different then men like Hercules, or my Billy, do."

Saying his name at this moment was a thrill.  As if speaking his name would summon him somehow.  It felt like he might walk through that door any moment and know the look on her face the need in her eyes.  She could lie to herself and to Hazel about what she was feeling right now, but Billy would know, and he would react. 

Her mind flashed back to the alleyway on The Riverwalk, the brick wall against her back, the cold air on her bottom, the sound of his frantic breath, the feel of his ardent desire.  Aurora's pulse quickened, her thumb stroked the skin on Hazel's thigh, pressing firmly into it, savoring the way it bounced back so easily to its natural state and yet, molded like clay under her touch.  She remembered the small bruises on her thighs from his fingertips fondly.  If Billy had been waiting in the hotel room, she might have tried to excuse herself now and run to him, to quench her lust upon her husband like a dying man at a desert oasis.  But Billy wasn't in the hotel room... Keats was, and the very last thing Aurora wanted to do was be alone with Keats.

Keats was no Billy.  Hazel wasn't either and yet, that felt like the point.  Where Aurora wanted to wither under Billy and float away at his touch... she found herself feeling quite differently as she stared into the other woman's eyes.  There was nothing withering in her tonight.  Something aggressive lurked just under the surface and though she feared the ramifications of it, she wanted nothing more than to kiss Hazel's lips one more time if only to see if they were half-so supple as she sometimes dreamed that they had been.  That she had not told Silvio to stand aside and let her have time with Hazel all those months ago, when she thought her husband to be dead, was maddening at this moment.  She'd kept her hands off Silvio out of respect for his romance with Lia.  It had been a matter of her personal honor to refuse to seduce a man whose true love had been separated from him in a way she knew could (and later did) get addressed ... but not Hazel.

Hazel she'd overlooked, for the most part, going home to dream about Silvio convinced that Hazel was a plaything that allowed them some measure of intimacy they could not enjoy because of her own ethics.  What she hadn't expected was that Hazel would prove as exotic and tantalizing to Aurora's senses than Silvio and his gifted tongue and fingers could ever really hope to be and the longer she spent away from Hazel - the more she questioned her memories of that dance.  The more she questioned her memories, the more she wanted to relive the moment to see if some part of her had been simply too drunk, too lonely, or something else entirely to know what the hell she really wanted.

Hazel's hand stopped just slightly higher than her own had gone.  For a moment she considered leaning over and kissing Hazel, passionately and seizing the moment.  Her free hand brought the third glass of whiskey up to her lips and she finished it.  Over the rim, her hungry eyes devoured the sight of Hazel in the moonlight, her Aphrodite descended to earth to tempt her better angels. 

Putting her glass down she spoke loud enough to be heard by the waiter, "I have one thousand reasons for you to take a very long bathroom break in my purse right now."

"Miss I could lose my job if I let you ..."

Aurora snatched her hand away from Hazel's thigh, that she had to do so made her angry but she unzipped her purse and pulled out the wad of bills within and slammed them onto the table.  Her hand kept hold of them while she stared down the waiter.

"A downpayment on the ten you'll get if you let me and my old friend catch up - alone."

The man took the cash and began to leave.

Aurora growled, "Leave the bottle."

The waiter nodded, put down the whiskey, and backed out the door - closing it behind him. 

Aurora turned on a small radio which sat on a nearby table.  She glanced around, searching for eyes in the darkness, people watching and waiting to ruin Hazel or threaten her marriage.  If she were a male, a powerful enforcer, a made man... no one would ever question her right to a moment like this.  It was a thing people did.  Most every Don and Godfather she knew had one if not two or three mistresses they openly were seen with.  Hardly a made guy didn't have a side moll.  Was that what she was doing here?  Was she making Hazel a mobster's side girl?  Did Aurora even WANT a side girl?

"I've often doubted my recollection of that night in the hotel room." Aurora refilled her glass and Hazel's. "I've never done anything like that ... with a woman." 

Was she putting Hazel in danger?  Not just with every one of her many powerful enemies but what about her very large and jealous husband?  He'd made no bones about how he felt, never mind that she loved him and had no intentions of leaving him.  This thing, whatever it was couldn't really be something.  Hazel was a woman.  She was a woman.  They had lives a world away from each other's spheres of influence.  she was a brutal enforcer and hitman while Hazel was a dazzling ingenue on the rise to superstardom. 

One day soon Hazel would have no time to spare for men and women who spent their lives killing each other in gutters... Aurora would never be the sort of woman that Marie, Tara, or Isabella had been - powerful enough to justify having a Hazel in their lives.  Even if this had been all she wanted in life, even if Hazel had been the great love of her life, their circumstances would never have allowed it.  The scandal would ruin Hazel in Hollywood and even she would suffer for being a no one she was with such a lifestyle.

No.  It was more than just the impossibility of it... it was that she really couldn't imagine what that life would look like.  Lovers or something more.  They were alphas in their own way.  Two women fighting to remain tops in what they each did in life, they'd never know how to play second to each other.  This, and moments like it, were really all that could ever pass between them she supposed and that was okay really.  What Aurora wanted for her future, it was back safely tucked into their beds in Detroit.  And yet... she found herself settling into her seat and recapturing the moment effortlessly - eager to see where she was going with this & not really sure how it all might end.

"I wanted to stay, but there were a million reasons I shouldn't. And then a million more that happened afterward which made me wish I had.  I've even dreamed about what might have happened if I had stayed.  I keep telling myself that I've lost so much that I shouldn't ever be willing to let a moment pass unsavored or a person walk out of a room without knowing how I feel about them and yet, I keep doing it."

She drew breath past her lips audibly, looking Hazel up from the tips of her perfect toes to the shine of her lips.  No, she didn't want a side girl, but she wanted this moment as bad as anything she'd ever wanted in her whole damn life.  One moment of something soft and good ... something sweet and in her control.  Something that she was master over instead of a victim of when was the last time I was in control of anything, really?  Everything that everyone had taken from her... she was helpless to stop any of it.  Weak, so much weaker than I ever thought I'd be at this point in my life.  Helping Hazel tonight, being with Hazel, it made her feel strong and it felt so very good.

"I'm fucking tired of saying no and goodbye to the things and people I want - I'm tired of all the damn regrets."  She said, her breath quickening, emotion filling her eyes and tone as she sat forward on the edge of her seat.  Without further hesitation nor reservation, the lioness pounced upon her prey. 

One hand went behind Hazel's neck, fingers tangling into her hair, the other grabbing the lithe woman at the waist pulling her tight against her own form.  The heat between them seared like dragon's flames and the night air seemed as cold to her as the unforgiving winter winds of the northeast.  Aurora's mouth claimed Hazel's, her lips passing over the other woman's time and again her tongue probing her lapping up the faint hints of liqueur she found there.  After a moment her hand disengaged from Hazel's hair and began to wander, exploring every place she had not touched before... desperate to know every inch of her goddess.

Keats had walked outside with the taste of failure and bad whiskey still on his tongue. The failure was easily dismissed; he contemplated Hazel Harcourt for a moment, but her reasons for shying away from men were perfectly understandable and Keats wasn't one to take things too personally. The whiskey, however, stuck with him longer. He'd been drinking his own product exclusively, and this other shit stuck to his tongue like a bad habit. He couldn't seem to get the taste out of his mouth. A bottle of water from the general store helped a little, and soon he was making his way back toward the bar. He'd left Hazel and Aurora alone to finish their reunion; he wasn't going to begrudge Hazel her shot at her old friend, even if he did have some professional jealousy. 

And speaking of professionals... well, at least one person was interested in Hazel. An enterprising photographer was hanging around the outside of the bar, and Keats overheard Hazel's name a couple times. It didn't seem like the guy was up to no good; it'd be easy for Aurora to grab the camera... but bad press for Hazel in these early stages of becoming well known could be dangerous- almost as bad as getting caught in a compromising or embarrassing position. After a moments consideration, he headed back inside the bar.

No, he had to interrupt them. It was for their own good. Certainly not his.

_______

"Well, Hercules is an extreme example, but I think muscles can be feminine," purred Hazel, resting her hand on Rora's thigh, "although I admit I might need to do more research. And flattery, Rora, will get you everywhere."

As the waiter returned, Hazel placed her hands politely back in her lap. She grinned as Aurora threw cash at the waiter. Hazel had been making pretty good money herself recently, so it didn't quite have the same effect as it would have a few months prior, but perhaps that was a good thing. A powerful, independently wealthy woman who lived in another city and would never try to get anything out of Hazel other than fun... wasn't that exactly what Hazel wanted? A side girl? Or was she Rora's? Or was she simply reading too much into the situation? After all, Rora had walked away from her before. As Rora flipped on the radio, Hazel resigned herself to simply see what would happen.

She listened carefully, as Aurora spoke about herself, spoke about her decision to leave Silvio and Hazel, spoke about being tired of regrets. Hazel readied a carefully prepared witty comment- and then never had a chance to deliver it as Aurora pounced on her. Hazel's breath caught in her throat and she felt her heart skip a beat as she was hit with an unexpected sensory overload. The heat of Rora's tongue- the desperate searching of it, the sheer unexpected strength of the mobster, the pleasurable shock of being surprised. 

Rora kissed her hard, at first; the hand on the back of Hazel's neck was like a vice. As Rora seemed to get more comfortable, she seemed to soften. Hazel soon found herself laying next to Rora on the reclining chair, gently kissing Rora before sliding her kisses down to her neck, her collarbone. Hazel could hear Rora panting with excitement as they both shifted carefully in the chair. Hazel stood carefully, grinning as she tried to fix her dress where Rora's grasping hands had pulled it down.

"You know, I never did really get to finish that dance for you, since you left before the grand finale..."

Hazel grinned wickedly as she threw back her hair and began to sway her hips; she could feel Rora's eyes locked on them, like someone in the early stages of hypnosis. Then, suddenly, she noticed a second pair of eyes watching her as well and she froze.

"Don't stop on my account," said Keats with a smirk as he stepped out onto the deck. His hands were raised, as if to prevent Rora from throwing something at him- or shooting him. "I come in peace. There's a photographer outside sniffing around about Hazel; I've arranged for a cab to meet you outside the side exit, if you'd like to make a muted exit."

Both women seemed thrown by the abrupt change in mood from the intrusion, but not so thrown that Rora's eyes strayed from Hazel very long. Wordlessly, they gathered their things and followed Keats out the side exit. There was an empty cab waiting outside, and Hazel rolled her eyes at Aurora as Keats made an elaborate show of climbing behind the wheel and placing the cabbie's hat on his head. Obviously, he'd acquired the whole vehicle for them. The two women climbed in the back seat as the cab pulled away.

"I'll have to be more careful about being in public, I suppose," said Hazel with a sigh, "especially once this new film comes out."

Keats, seemingly determined to be a good wingman, winked at Rora in the rearview mirror before keeping his eyes on the road. Mostly. 

Rora felt a warm tingling reverberate through her as Hazel's lips touched the back of her hand.

"I want," whispered Hazel in between soft kisses, "to know every single inch of you..." 

Hazel's catlike tongue traced a path up Rora's index finger, pausing so that the other woman's fingertip rested on Hazel's lower lip. Her tongue emerged to lick it gently, before her teeth began lightly chewing on it. Something changed in both their expressions: as Rora's amber eyes seemed to flash a need to be in control, to express power, Hazel seemed perfectly content to be taken. 

The blonde actress sighed with pleasure as she felt strong hands grip her hips and Rora, with a little help, pulled Hazel onto her lap. Rora's hand reached up behind Hazel's head again, pulling her down for a kiss as Hazel rested her thighs on either side of Rora's body. Pushing herself toward Rora, Hazel's sapphire necklace hung down near the other woman's face. 

To his credit, during the twenty minute car-ride back to Hazel's place, Keats nearly crashed only a handful of times. 

Hazel and Aurora had disappeared into the apartment and the night passed by slowly.  The sun was well into its rise before Aurora in her wrinkled party dress and freshly washed hair appeared, yawning.  Settling into the passenger seat beside Keats she kept her eyes forward and felt, more than saw the other man turn his head to look at her - namely at the bite mark on her neck she had no hope of hiding until it would fade away in a few hours time.

"Just drive."  She instructed.  To his credit, Keats did, though Aurora supposed he was grinning like the cat who ate the canary.  Resting her chin on her palm she stared out the window and watched as the world began waking up.  All the while she reflected on the decisions of the previous night and a slow smile grew on her face.  

Back at the hotel, the two went inside without a word, which Aurora knew had to be a feat for Keats, a record honestly, the man loved to hear himself talk.  She'd become more chatty over the past few years, but Keats was in a league of his own.  So it didn't shock her when he began chattering the moment they were alone. 

For the most part, she dismissed his tongue in cheek witticisms, considering them the price of him being her wingman for the night and now what he probably believed to be a co-conspirator in a secret love affair.  The idea of which made her smirk as she dug into her bag and pulled out fresh jeans, new bra & panties, and a t-shirt.

She paused in front of Keats and put a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you for saving us from the cameraman last night, it was noble and kind.  You're a good friend, I'm starting to see what his majesty sees in you."  She gave him a wink.  "Hazel is meeting us at the airport in an hour.  You can sleep on the plane.  If you'd like to go downstairs and grab some of the hotel breakfast, now might be a good time.

Then disappeared into the bathroom to change.  When she emerged from the room she was dressed as she normally was, her hair pulled back into a simple pony.  She walked over to her bag, put away her things from the night before and began putting on socks and shoes.  When Keats reappeared she was nearly ready to go and the bite on her neck had finally begun to be less vicious looking.  She hoped it would be gone by the time they got back to Detroit.  If Billy saw it before she had a chance to tell him what she'd done, it might change the whole tone of the conversation... or he might shoot Keats before she could tell him that she hadn't been with another man and had instead taken a beautiful woman into her bed.

Grabbing her bag up she followed Keats out the door.  It occurred to her then how strange it was that the two different coasts in America had come to represent something so different to her.  Where Philly had come to represent the harshest of life's realities, LA was a place of her most dizzy dreams.  Somewhere in between lay her life - something not so far out of control than she came here thinking that it was, in Detroit, and it was finally time to wake up and go back home.