One Night, No Last Names

Strangers Until Morning

One More Lonely Saturday

Elena Ward stood outside the Beaumont Grand Hotel, wondering why she had bothered.

Through the enormous glass windows, she could see the warm lights of the hotel lounge, beautifully dressed people enjoying cocktails, couples leaning toward each other across small tables.

Everybody seemed to belong to somebody.

Everybody except her.

At forty-six, Elena was accustomed to being in control. She had built a successful career, earned the respect of colleagues, and created a comfortable life for herself.

But managing her own loneliness was another matter.

Her divorce had been finalized eleven months earlier. There had been no dramatic arguments, no scandal, no bitter accusations. Just eighteen years of marriage quietly dying from neglect.

Her former husband had already moved on.

Elena hadn't.

She adjusted the black shawl around her shoulders and glanced at her reflection in the hotel window.

The dark satin dress had cost considerably more than she usually allowed herself to spend. Her hair was swept into a loose, elegant arrangement, and the black stilettos made her feel almost dangerously attractive.

All dressed up and nowhere to go.

She nearly turned around.

Then she remembered the empty house waiting for her.

"Oh, to hell with it," she muttered.

She opened the door.

A Woman Who Knew What She Wanted

The lounge was comfortably crowded, but the bartender found her a small sofa near the windows.

Elena ordered a gin and tonic.

She had barely taken her first sip when a woman's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Excuse me. Is anyone sitting here?"

Elena looked up.

The blonde standing beside her was stunning.

Perhaps twenty-nine or thirty, with beautiful green eyes, a mischievous smile, and a champagne-colored dress that seemed to have been designed specifically for her.

"No," Elena replied. "Please."

"Thank you. The bar is hopelessly crowded."

The younger woman sat beside her, rather closer than strictly necessary.

"I'm Claire."

"Elena."

"That's a beautiful name."

"Thank you."

Claire studied her for a moment.

"Are you waiting for someone, Elena?"

"No."

"Good."

Elena raised an eyebrow.

"Good?"

Claire smiled.

"I was hoping you weren't."

Elena laughed, surprised by the woman's confidence.

"You're rather direct."

"Would you prefer I spend twenty minutes discussing the weather before telling you I think you're gorgeous?"

Elena nearly choked on her drink.

"Good heavens."

"Too direct?"

"No." Elena shook her head, still laughing. "Just unexpected."

"Well, you're smiling now. You looked terribly lonely when I walked past."

That stopped Elena.

"Was it that obvious?"

"Only because I recognized the expression."

Claire's smile softened.

"I've worn it myself."

Elena looked at her more carefully.

"Someone broke your heart?"

"Not recently. I finally stopped allowing people to do that."

"That's quite an accomplishment."

"It took practice."

Claire ordered a glass of white wine, then turned back toward Elena.

"Are you married?"

"Divorced."

"Children?"

"No."

"Anyone special?"

Elena smiled ruefully.

"Not even anyone particularly ordinary."

Claire laughed.

"And are you interested in changing that?"

Elena met her eyes.

"For tonight?"

"For tonight," Claire agreed. "We can worry about the rest of our lives some other time."

There was something enormously refreshing about the woman.

No elaborate performance. No awkward guessing. No pretending their attraction was accidental.

"And you?" Elena asked. "Anyone waiting for you?"

"No husband. No boyfriend. No girlfriend. No one who's entitled to complain about where I spend tonight."

"That's remarkably specific."

"I believe in being clear about important things."

Claire placed her hand gently on Elena's knee.

"And I think you're a very important thing that's happened to my evening."

Elena looked down at the hand, then back at Claire.

"You're quite certain of yourself."

"About you? Increasingly."

Elena covered Claire's hand with her own.

"Then perhaps we should order another drink."

Claire leaned closer.

"Or perhaps we should stop pretending we're here for the drinks."

Elena laughed again.

For the first time in months, she felt gloriously alive.

No Need for Pretending

They talked for another hour.

Not about the weather, the economy, or what either did for a living.

They talked about themselves.

Claire confessed that she had always been attracted to older women, although she quickly added that age alone wasn't particularly interesting.

"It's confidence," she explained. "A woman who knows who she is. Who doesn't need to impress everyone in the room."

Elena smiled.

"You're giving me rather more credit than I deserve."

"Am I?"

"I'm not always as confident as I appear. Sometimes I worry about everything. Sometimes I try to control things that don't need controlling."

"Then stop."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Claire moved closer until their shoulders touched.

"Tonight you're not responsible for anyone. You're just Elena."

Elena considered that.

"I rather like the sound of that."

"And I rather like Elena."

"Even though she's nearly seventeen years older than you?"

"Especially because she's not spending the evening trying to be seventeen years younger."

Elena laughed.

"You're very good at this."

"At what?"

"Making a woman feel desirable."

Claire's expression became serious.

"Elena, you are desirable. I shouldn't have to convince you."

For a moment, Elena couldn't answer.

Then she reached over and brushed a stray blonde curl away from Claire's face.

"You're a dangerous young woman."

"Only if you want me to be."

Elena studied her.

"And suppose I do?"

Claire's smile returned.

"Then I have a lovely hotel suite upstairs."

There it was.

No misunderstanding. No elaborate invitation disguised as something innocent.

Elena took a final sip of her drink.

"Well," she said, setting the glass down, "it would be terribly impolite not to see it."

Claire stood and offered her hand.

"Come on, then."

Elena accepted it.

Neither woman looked back.

Room 814

The elevator ride was surprisingly quiet.

Claire stood beside Elena, their fingers intertwined.

"You can still change your mind," she said.

Elena turned toward her.

"Do I look as though I'm considering it?"

"No."

"Then stop giving me ideas."

Claire laughed.

When the elevator doors opened, Elena drew her close and kissed her.

It was brief, spontaneous, and considerably more enthusiastic than either had expected.

Claire blinked when they separated.

"Well."

"Too direct?" Elena asked innocently.

"Not nearly direct enough."

They were still laughing when they reached Room 814.

Inside, Claire slipped off her heels and crossed toward the windows.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Water, please."

Claire poured two glasses from the bottle on the dresser.

Elena accepted hers and looked around the elegant suite.

"Very nice."

"Thank you. Although I hope you're not planning to review the accommodations."

"I hadn't intended to."

"Good. I have more interesting things planned."

Elena laughed.

"I believe you."

Claire smiled and disappeared into the bathroom.

Elena took her time.

She removed her jewelry, carefully arranged her dress over a chair, and slipped beneath the white sheets of the enormous bed.

For the first time in a very long while, she wasn't thinking about tomorrow.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened.

Claire emerged wearing a beautiful cream-colored satin robe.

She stopped when she saw Elena already in bed.

"Oh."

Elena raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?"

"Not remotely."

Claire remained in the doorway, smiling.

"I was just admiring the view."

Elena laughed.

"Well, you can admire it from a little closer."

Claire approached the bed.

"You're rather comfortable already."

"I thought I would make myself at home."

"Please do."

Elena held out her hand.

"Are you going to stand there all night?"

Claire took it.

"That depends. Are you going to invite me in?"

Elena smiled.

"Claire, darling, I thought I already had."

Claire slipped off her robe and joined her beneath the sheets.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other.

"Can I tell you something?" Claire whispered.

"Of course."

"I've wanted to kiss you again since we left the elevator."

Elena brushed a strand of blonde hair away from Claire's face.

"Then you've wasted a perfectly good opportunity."

Claire laughed softly.

And kissed her.

Outside, the city continued its Saturday-night celebrations.

Inside Room 814, two women who had been strangers only hours earlier discovered just how wonderful an unexpected encounter could be.

Sunday Morning, No Particular Hurry

Sunlight streamed through the curtains when Claire opened her eyes.

Elena was still beside her.

For a moment, Claire simply watched the older woman sleeping.

Then she smiled to herself.

What an extraordinary Saturday night.

"You're staring," Elena murmured without opening her eyes.

Claire laughed.

"How did you know?"

"I could feel it."

"Well, you're very pretty when you're asleep."

"And when I'm awake?"

"Even prettier."

Elena opened her eyes.

"Good morning, you shameless flatterer."

"Good morning, beautiful."

Claire leaned forward and kissed her.

Neither woman made any attempt to get out of bed.

It was Sunday.

There were no appointments to keep, no obligations demanding their immediate attention, and absolutely no reason to spoil a perfectly lovely morning.

Eventually Claire glanced toward the clock.

"Nine-thirty."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not unless you have somewhere you need to be."

Elena shook her head.

"Not particularly."

"Wonderful."

Claire settled comfortably against her.

"Then I'm keeping you."

Elena laughed.

"For how long?"

"Until I decide otherwise."

"You're terribly bossy."

"Would you prefer I asked politely?"

"Much."

Claire sat up a little straighter.

"Elena, would you be so kind as to remain in this bed with me for another hour?"

Elena pretended to consider the request.

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

"Excellent."

Claire kissed her again.

They talked, laughed, and shared the sort of comfortable silences that usually take people months to discover.

Eventually Elena admitted that she had almost turned around outside the hotel the previous evening.

"Why?" Claire asked.

"I wasn't sure I belonged there."

"At the hotel?"

"Among people enjoying themselves. People who seemed to have someone."

Claire studied her.

"And now?"

Elena smiled.

"Now I'm rather glad I went inside."

Claire took her hand.

"So am I."

For a while neither spoke.

Then Claire said, "Can I be terribly honest?"

"That would be a refreshing change."

Claire laughed and gave Elena's arm a playful slap.

"I like you."

"I rather gathered that."

"No, I mean I really like you. More than I expected to like someone I met in a bar."

Elena's expression softened.

"I like you too."

"Enough to see me again?"

Elena hesitated.

It was an innocent question.

A reasonable question.

But she had spent the last eleven months rebuilding a life that finally felt stable, even if it was sometimes desperately lonely.

And Claire was young, beautiful, exciting, and utterly unexpected.

"Would you think me terribly foolish," Elena asked, "if I said I'd rather not make promises this morning?"

Claire considered that.

"No."

"You're not disappointed?"

"A little."

Elena touched her cheek.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Last night was wonderful. This morning is wonderful. I don't want to turn either of them into something we have to explain."

Elena smiled gratefully.

"Exactly."

Claire leaned forward and kissed her.

"Then let's enjoy our Sunday."

And they did.

They ordered breakfast from room service and ate in bed, laughing when Elena dropped strawberry jam onto the white sheets.

They shared the newspaper, argued playfully about which film deserved an award, and discovered that they had surprisingly similar tastes in music.

At one point Claire looked at her and shook her head.

"What?" Elena asked.

"Nothing."

"Claire."

"I was just thinking that I'm going to remember you for a very long time."

Elena reached across the breakfast tray and took her hand.

"The feeling is mutual."

A Beautiful Goodbye

It was nearly noon before Elena finally decided she should go home.

Claire was still in bed, comfortably covered by the white sheets, when Elena sat on the edge of the mattress to put on her shoes.

Claire watched her fastening the delicate straps of her black stilettos.

"Those shoes should be illegal."

Elena looked over her shoulder.

"Why?"

"Because they're distracting me."

Elena laughed.

"You're easily distracted."

"Only by exceptionally attractive women."

"And how many of those do you have staying in your hotel room?"

"At the moment? One."

"At the moment?"

Claire grinned.

"Would you like an exclusive contract?"

Elena burst out laughing.

"You're incorrigible."

"That's what I've been told."

Elena finished fastening her second shoe, then turned toward Claire.

For a moment, the laughter faded.

"I've had a wonderful time," she said.

"So have I."

"No regrets?"

"Not a single one."

Elena smiled.

"Neither have I."

Claire reached for her hand.

"Are you absolutely certain you don't want to exchange numbers?"

Elena looked at her.

She was tempted.

Very tempted.

But something about the encounter felt precious precisely because neither had expected anything from the other.

"Perhaps we should leave it as a beautiful memory," she said.

Claire sighed.

"You're a difficult woman, Elena."

"So I've been told."

"Well, I suppose a beautiful memory is better than an ordinary disappointment."

Elena leaned forward and kissed her.

It was a long, affectionate goodbye.

When they finally separated, Claire smiled.

"If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

"Room 814?"

"Until tomorrow morning."

Elena laughed.

"Then perhaps I'll have to move quickly."

Claire squeezed her hand.

"Perhaps."

Elena stood, collected her purse, and walked toward the door.

"Goodbye, Claire."

"Goodbye, Elena."

At the doorway, Elena turned back.

Claire was still sitting in bed, the sunlight catching her blonde hair.

"One more thing," Elena said.

"Yes?"

"You really are quite extraordinary."

Claire smiled.

"So are you."

Then Elena left.

Neither woman had asked for the other's surname.

Neither had spoken about her profession.

And neither had the slightest idea that their beautiful, uncomplicated weekend was about to become anything but uncomplicated.

Monday Morning

By eight-thirty Monday morning, Elena Ward was back in her familiar world.

The elegant satin dress had been replaced by a tailored charcoal business suit. Her hair was neatly arranged, her desk immaculate, and her morning schedule already crowded.

As principal of the prestigious Westbridge Academy for Girls, Elena was responsible for almost sixty employees, hundreds of students, and a school board that considered every minor inconvenience a potential catastrophe.

She had spent much of Sunday evening preparing for the week.

But every now and then, her thoughts had wandered.

To a hotel room.

To a beautiful blonde woman.

To a Saturday night she wasn't likely to forget.

She had caught herself smiling over dinner.

And again while brushing her teeth.

Honestly, Elena, she had thought. You're behaving like a teenager.

Now, seated behind her enormous mahogany desk, she forced herself to concentrate.

There were budgets to approve, schedules to review, and a new English teacher to welcome.

The appointment had been finalized during an unusually busy period. A committee had conducted the interviews, and Elena had approved its recommendation after reviewing the candidate's impressive qualifications.

She hadn't met the young woman personally.

That would be remedied this morning.

A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in."

Margaret Collins, her longtime office administrator, appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning, Dr. Ward."

"Good morning, Margaret."

"Our new English teacher is here."

"Excellent. Please bring her in."

Elena closed the folder on her desk and rose to greet her newest employee.

Margaret stepped aside.

A young blonde woman entered the office.

She wore a beautifully tailored beige suit, a cream blouse, and elegant heels. Her hair was professionally arranged, and she carried a slim leather portfolio.

Elena's welcoming smile faltered.

For one impossible second, she couldn't move.

Margaret, entirely unaware, continued with cheerful enthusiasm.

"Dr. Ward, I'd like you to meet our new English teacher, Miss Claire Bennett."

The young woman's eyes widened.

Margaret smiled toward Elena.

"And Miss Bennett, this is our principal, Dr. Elena Ward."

Claire stared at her.

Her face went pale.

Her lips parted.

"Oh, my God."

THE END

Could they simply pretend the weekend had never happened? Would either woman want to? And how could a beautiful memory remain uncomplicated when Monday morning had just changed everything?