Leather, Denim & an Unexpected Love

ENTWINED MAGAZINE Every Love Has a Story. CHANCE ENCOUNTER Some meetings are accidental. The love stories that follow are unforgettable. Vanessa Brooks, 56, and Nicole Ramirez, 28, never expected to find love in a motorcycle garage. Vanessa owns the garage, a business she built over twenty years, while Nicole arrived looking for a job and found considerably more than either woman had bargained for. We sat down with the couple to discover how an angry voice, an unexpected invitation, and two cups of coffee changed their lives. MAGAZINE: How did you two meet? Vanessa: (Laughing.) Not particularly romantically, I'm afraid. I was about to order a coffee at the little diner around the corner from my garage when I heard an angry man shouting at somebody in the back room. I recognized his voice immediately. He owned the place, and he had a reputation for being unpleasant to his employees, particularly the young women. A moment later, Nicole came out of the back room, still wearing her little blue denim jacket, carrying a handbag and looking as though she was doing everything in her power not to cry. Nicole: I had just been fired. I'd been working there for almost six months, and that morning I'd refused to stay another three hours without pay. My boss called me ungrateful, accused me of having an attitude, and told me to get out. Vanessa: And then he came charging out after her, shouting that she'd never find another job in the neighborhood. That's when I decided I'd heard enough. MAGAZINE: What did you do? Vanessa: I told him to shut his mouth, paid for the coffee I hadn't even received, and asked Nicole whether she'd like to have breakfast somewhere that treated people decently. Nicole: (Smiling.) She didn't ask very politely. Vanessa: I was wearing my leather jacket and heels, and I was in no mood for nonsense. Nicole: She looked absolutely terrifying! This gorgeous, silver-haired woman in black leather, standing there with her hands on her hips, telling a man twice my size to mind his manners. I couldn't decide whether to run away or follow her. MAGAZINE: Apparently, you followed her. Nicole: I did. And she bought me breakfast, listened to everything that had happened, and then asked what I intended to do next. I admitted I had no idea because I needed the money, and she immediately offered me a job. Vanessa: My office assistant had retired two weeks earlier. I needed somebody to answer the phones, keep the books organized, and stop my mechanics from losing every invoice they touched. Nicole: I knew absolutely nothing about motorcycles. Vanessa: Neither did my previous assistant when she started. Besides, I wasn't hiring a mechanic. MAGAZINE: So when did this become something more than an employer-employee relationship? Nicole: Not immediately! For the first few months, Vanessa was my boss, and that was all. Although I certainly noticed how beautiful she was. Vanessa: Oh, she noticed. I caught her staring at my heels often enough. Nicole: (Laughing.) They were impossible not to notice! She'd walk through that dirty garage in six-inch platforms as though she were walking down a fashion runway. And somehow she never tripped over anything. Vanessa: Practice, darling. Decades of practice. Nicole: But what really attracted me was how she treated people. Her mechanics adored her, her customers trusted her, and she never asked anybody to do something she wouldn't do herself. MAGAZINE: Who made the first move? Vanessa: Nicole did, eventually. By then she'd accepted a better-paying position at another company, and I was delighted for her, although I missed having her around. Nicole: I came back one Friday evening, walked straight into her office, and asked whether she'd take me out to dinner. Vanessa: I thought she wanted advice about her new job. Nicole: She actually asked me, "As your former employer or as your friend?" Vanessa: And Nicole looked me straight in the eyes and said, "As the woman I've wanted to kiss for the past six months." MAGAZINE: And your answer? Vanessa: I told her to give me twenty minutes to change. Nicole: She came back wearing a black leather minidress and those ridiculous platform heels. I nearly forgot where I'd made the reservation. MAGAZINE: Was the age difference ever an issue? Nicole: Other people seem considerably more interested in those twenty-eight years than we are. Vanessa: I was concerned at first. I have an entire lifetime of experiences she hasn't had yet, and I wanted to be certain she understood what she was choosing. But Nicole has never been interested in having somebody make her decisions for her. Nicole: And Vanessa has never treated me like a child. She respects my opinions, encourages my ambitions, and occasionally lets me win an argument. Vanessa: Occasionally being the important word. MAGAZINE: And now? Vanessa: We've been together for almost two years. Nicole has her own career, I still have my garage, and most evenings we go home together. Nicole: Except on Fridays. Fridays I come to the garage, we close up together, and she takes me somewhere nice. MAGAZINE: Always in leather and denim? Nicole: Almost always. I like my denim and comfortable flats. She loves her leather and impossible heels. Vanessa: We complement each other. Nicole: (Leaning over to kiss her cheek.) In more ways than one. MAGAZINE: Nicole, we've noticed that Vanessa isn't the only one who appreciates beautiful shoes. Do you wear high heels too? Nicole: (Blushing slightly.) Occasionally. Well, actually, quite often. But I'd rather not say where I wear them, or for whom. MAGAZINE: (Laughing.) Oh, now you've made us curious! Vanessa, would you care to enlighten our readers? Vanessa: (Grinning.) Are you sure you want me to answer that, darling? Nicole: Vanessa, don't you dare! Vanessa: Oh, come on, sweetheart. It's hardly a state secret. Nicole has a wonderful collection of high heels at home. Some of them are considerably higher than mine, believe it or not. Nicole: (Turning bright red.) Vanessa! Vanessa: The funny thing is that when we first met, she told me she couldn't walk in heels and preferred her little black flats. Then, a few months after we started dating, I came home one evening and found her practicing in front of the bedroom mirror, wearing one of my leather dresses and a pair of my platform pumps. Nicole: I cannot believe you're telling them this! MAGAZINE: And what happened? Vanessa: Well, first I had to catch her because she nearly fell over when she realized I was watching. Then I told her she looked absolutely gorgeous. Nicole: (Covering her face with both hands.) Oh, my God. Please stop. Vanessa: And now she has more heels in our bedroom closet than I do. Red ones, black ones, silver ones, and one particularly outrageous pair with ankle straps that I bought her for our anniversary. MAGAZINE: But she still wears flats to the garage? Vanessa: Of course. She says those are her sensible, everyday shoes. The heels are reserved for special occasions. Nicole: (Muttering.) Very special occasions. Vanessa: (Laughing.) Exactly! Candlelight, a nice dinner at home, perhaps a little music, and suddenly my practical little denim girl disappears into the bedroom and comes back looking like she belongs on the cover of a fashion magazine. Nicole: Vanessa, I am never agreeing to another interview with you! MAGAZINE: We take it you're the intended audience for those special occasions? Vanessa: (Putting an arm around Nicole.) Let's just say that I consider myself an extremely fortunate woman. Nicole: (Still blushing, but laughing now.) And that's quite enough information for your readers! Vanessa: All right, sweetheart. Your secrets are safe with me. Nicole: They certainly weren't five minutes ago! At this point, Vanessa bursts into laughter, Nicole hides her face against her girlfriend's shoulder, and our photographer wisely decides that the next picture should be taken before either woman says anything else. MAGAZINE: Before we let you go, one final question. Do you ever go back to that little diner? Vanessa: Never. But I did send its former owner an invitation to our first anniversary party. Nicole: Vanessa! Vanessa: What? I thought he deserved to know what a wonderful woman he'd let walk out of his back room. Sometimes love doesn't arrive with flowers, candlelight, or a carefully planned first date. Sometimes it arrives wearing black leather, interrupts an argument, and buys you breakfast.