“I heard you were unwell,” Sydney said. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“I thought you didn’t follow the media.”
Sydney’s lips contorted. “I didn’t. There was no one worthwhile following until recently.”
“It is serious.” Beatrice couldn’t hold herself back anymore. She took a step toward her. “The doctor insinuated I was lovesick, and there’s only one cure for my lovesickness — you. You seem to have penetrated my walls and brought me to my knees, Sydney.” She pushed aside a mental image of Sydney on her knees to focus on what she needed to say. “Walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“And now you’ve come back to claim your lost baggage.”
Beatrice pouted at her suggestion. “Sydney, be serious for a change. I knew I wasn’t ready.”
“I would have waited if you’d have asked,” Sydney replied with a shrug.
“I didn’t know if I would ever be ready. Now I can’t wait to show you off to the world if you’ll let me. Assuming that’s why you’re here, of course. You haven’t come from…?”
“Scotland,” Sydney confirmed.
“…Scotland, to thank me for the book.”
“I did actually.”
“Oh.” Beatrice’s gaze lowered.
Of course it was too good to be true; too much to hope for.
“I wanted to give my thanks in person. It’s the only way I could convey my appreciation the way I need to.”
“Oh?” Beatrice replied, her tone a little more upbeat and hopeful than before.
Did this mean…?
Her gaze returned to meet Sydney’s, just as she took a step towards her, leaning forward until there was only a millimetre between them. Sydney’s parted lips lingered a moment in front of her own, as her eyes bored into Beatrice’s with a longing. Beatrice gasped in a breath, her heart hammering with anticipation, urging Sydney’s lips to meet her own. Unable to wait any longer, she pressed hers to Sydney’s and instantly received a warm, welcoming response as the woman’s arms swallowed her up, pulling her closer to her as she kissed her more deeply.
Remembering they were in a public space, Beatrice pulled back slowly to take Sydney’s hand instead. She wasn’t quite ready for an audience.
“I thought your brand couldn’t withstand a coming out?” Sydney teased, running her tongue over her lips.
“I realised I didn’t care anymore. I deserved something for me. Yes, I have a big house and fancy cars. They’re only things. I’d miss them if I didn’t have them, but I can live without them. What I lose to have those things is myself, and I can’t live anymore without living as me. I feel so much better for it — for now anyway.”
“You wrote your own narrative. The truth set you free. That always feels good.”
“And I’m looking outwards from now on, not inwards, and I see you, Sydney MacKenzie, right in my eye line, where you’ve always been!”
Sydney lifted Beatrice’s hand to her lips and kissed it before turning her attention to her fingers.
“If you ever click these at me again,” she teased, “I’m going to break them.”
“Oh no. I have a better use for them now, Sydney, and they are no use to you broken, trust me on that.”
Sydney’s eyes glimmered as her lips widened. “I do.”
“If my career falters, I have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life. What do I need with more money when I have no one to share it with? Anyway, Ali says the phone hasn’t stopped ringing; everyone in Hollywood wants me.”
“They can get in line. You’re mine now,” Sydney smirked, squeezing Beatrice’s hand. “Alison introduced me to an agent.”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“I asked her not to. I thought we were having a clean break.” Sydney narrowed her eyes. “Though apparently not clean enough to stop you from sending her a copy of my book.”