Brutal Comfort

There was silence both over the call and in the room. Heather knew that a barrage of information was slowly settling into the heads of all involved. Several minutes later, the voice spoke up on the phone, much softer in tone than before.

"Mr. Wasserman, can she do that?"

"She can."

"I'll need to talk to the rest of my family before we-"

"I'll make it easier for you," Heather interjected. "Lou hides his income in the Cayman Islands. I have his account number and details of every transfer to and from that account. Jack sells weed to high school students. I have pictures. I've saved the best for last. Linda, or should I say, naughtyMomLinda has a rather bad habit of displaying her naked bits on webcam for the highest bidder. Unfortunately, the most recent highest bidder happened to be me and I took the liberty of recording the whole thing. She does look quite hot, if I may say so. We'll see if her church, PTA, and, most importantly, husband agree. I could put it on Pornhub for the world to judge."

"How-"

"It doesn't matter," said Heather firmly. "I understand this means you will not be fighting for a piece of Florence's estate. If you and the rest of your family drop your claim within the next 24 hours, I might even feel generous. I'll give you the mansion in Beverly Hills. The property alone is worth seven figures. Flip it and split it four ways and all of you will be rich. Granted, it's not the fortune you were hoping for, but let's get real for a second. It's the easiest payday ever and the best deal you'll get."

There was a short pause before Bryan spoke up again.

"Mr. Wasserman, could you take me off speaker?"

The opposing lawyer picked the phone up and spoke to his client for a few minutes.

"We'll take your offer," he finally told Heather. They shook hands and he left the room, slightly dazed.

"See, I'm not as bad at estate planning as I think I am. Blair?"

Blair's attention was transfixed on a spot on the wall. She may as well not have been in the same room as Heather where her marriage and inheritance were called into question before Heather saved them. She seemed utterly unaware of the fortune she was sitting on.

All she knew, with a gut-wrenching finality, was that Florence Kaufman was dead. Reality had finally broken through her shield.

* *

"You know you don't have to check on me this often."

"It's not a problem," waved off Heather. "I heard you missed your session with Dr. Caldwell yesterday."

Blair leaned back on the bed. Her eyes looked sleepy from her medication.

"I'm sorry. It feels like too much, talking about her. It's hard. Just look around the room, at all the memories. See that painting over the console."

Heather's attention went to three portraits fastened to the wall on the near side of the room.

"We got it from a street artist in Madrid and hung it between two expensive, well known pieces. You should have seen how everybody complimented it as having the delicacy of a Matisse and the boldness of a Rembrandt at the same time without realising it cost only a few bucks. They kept asking which of the classics had painted it, guessing name after name. I had to keep running to the hallway to laugh. After that day, whenever I would see that picture, I would laugh for no good reason."

Heather held her hand tightly, seeing a hint of moisture appearing in her eyes.

"It was one of my happiest memories. Now it feels like someone has reached inside me and stolen it. Now, whenever I think of that day, all I can see is Flo and it hits me all over again that she's gone."

She looked at the painting with a distant stare, not quite able to come to terms with it hanging on the wall.

"This feeling of emptiness. I know it seems like it will never go away, but it will. Give it time."

Blair looked at Heather curiously, seeing a slight nod of understanding.

"Who was it?" she asked softly.

"Google it."

"That bad."

"The point is, I know what you're going through and I can help you. You can call me at any time. Day or night, it doesn't matter. You call me up at four in the morning because you miss when Flo woke you up for a surprise trip and I will always pick up the call."

"Thank you, Heather."

"I'll set up a meeting with Flo's financial manager soon. You should know where all the money is invested and all the properties you now own."

"Heather-" said Blair, abruptly, cutting her off. "Please. Hold me once before you leave."

The request took Heather by surprise. She looked at Blair's wide, hopeful eyes, framed by a cascade of purple hair on either side.

"Please."

Heather breathed deeply and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Blair. I can't."

She was barely back in her car when she needed a Marlboro to calm her nerves. The wide-eyed expression floated back to her, the lips whimpering their simple request. It would have been so easy for Heather to fake it, to sit down beside her and hold her in her arms.

... And kiss her. Softly at first. If she kissed back then-

"Fuck. It doesn't matter if she kisses back. She is your client and you do not get involved with them. In fact, you do not go there with anyone. It's worked out so well in the past."

Heather took a deep drag on her cigarette, realising belatedly she had been talking out loud. She drove off, unable to get away from Blair fast enough.

* *

Blair knew this day was coming. She had dreaded it and prepared for it. The housekeepers and medical personnel buzzing around her would not know about the anniversary of their first kiss. It was not in an exotic locale. It had been a quiet September evening on Flo's rooftop.

It was her rooftop now. She didn't care. Her pills for the day were flushed down the toilet. Today of all days, she didn't want to spend in a waking haze.

Her trembling fingers swiped to Heather's number and hovered over the call button. She took a deep breath and went to her voicemail menu, playing the same message she had played over and over again.

"Hi, baby. I'm almost home. I'll land and come straight to you. You won't believe the stuff I've got for you this time. I miss you so much, Blair. I can't wait to hold you in my arms and kiss you everywhere. I love you."

Florence sounded so cheerful. She was in London on a book tour for her latest publication. She was on her way from an impromptu signing her agent set up in Foyles to Heathrow when she made the call. Blair was on the very roof, too engrossed in painting the scenery to hear her phone.

If only she had been in the room, she could have spoken to Flo one last time, told her how much she loved her. On the other hand, then she wouldn't have this final gift from her - the voicemail. She had spoken to it so many times over the past month. It was all she had left and she could not bear to delete it.

Blair closed her eyes and replayed that first kiss. Thousands had followed through the years, but the first was special. Florence brought her to the roof and kissed her. In one moment of thoughtless emotion, she peeled back the walls of stone she had built. The fool.

She remembered it all - the soft sumptuous lips pressed against hers, the way the setting sun lit one side of her face with a deep amber hue, the hand at her waist urging her closer. She opened her eyes, only to find herself alone and the cold air slowly wrapping her in its grasp.

It was all too much. She needed something she had locked away in her mind a long time ago. Florence had made her promise that she would never give in to the same habit that almost destroyed her.

She heard the voicemail one more time and the last of her resistance snapped. Flo had not come home. She broken her promise to Blair. Why should her promise count for more?

* *

"What do you mean she is missing?"

"Mrs. Blair took the keys to the Jaguar and said she wanted to be alone for some time," said the concerned housekeeper.

"When was this?" asked Heather, clutching the phone abnormally hard.

"Last night."

"Contact the police. File a report. She's a danger to herself alone."

Heather checked her call history. None from Blair. She tried calling. Once. Twice. Thrice. No answer.

* *

"So you finally decided to come back."

Blair clutched her arm tightly. The dingy surroundings were eerily familiar to her.

"I knew you'd be here... eventually."

"Do you have some?" she asked.

Her old friend simply nodded. She held the elusive syringe in her hand, idly twirling it between her fingers.

"Do you remember all those times that you would come here to take away your pain? When you came to me?"

"Please. I need it."

"You need it?" smirked the woman. "I remember you saying you wanted nothing more to do with me. I loved you and you left me to go play house with that rich dyke. Now you crawl back to me like nothing's changed."

"I have more money now. I can pay-"

She was abruptly cut off by a backhanded slap.

"I'm not interested in how much money you have, dear. I want you to realise that you are still broken enough to need a fix and you are willing to do anything for it. Since we last met, I have diversified my business from drugs to a few more profitable avenues and could have some use for you there."

Blair looked back at her blankly, a faint trickle of blood coming out of the corner of her mouth.

"Say it. Say what you're willing to do."

"Anything," a voice repeated. Blair was not sure if it was her.

"My dear Blair," said her former friend softly. "I do hope breaking my heart was worth what I am going to do to you now."

* *

"Ken Elliot's office called me up. They want to ask why you missed the hearing on their class action lawsuit."

"Fuck! That was today."

"You haven't been yourself lately, Heather," said Tom Markham, genuinely concerned. The managing partner at Griffin, Markham and Wiley commanded awe wherever he went. Yet, Heather merely acknowledged his presence before slumping back into her fugue of worry.

"It's just this whole Blair thing. It's been a week and the police still haven't found her."

"It's okay. Calm down. I've assured Ken that it's nothing more than a misunderstanding and given the case to another partner for now."

Heather mouthed a thanks in her boss's direction before going back to obsessively checking her phone for updates.

"If you want me to get the Feds involved, all you need to do is say the word and I will call up Assistant Director Cheever. He owes me a few."

She seemed unaware her boss had spoken.

"Heather," Tom repeated, startling her back to attention. "If you need some time off, that's okay."

"I'll deal with this," she said, reflexively reaching for her half empty pack of Marlboros. "I'm sure it's only a matter of time before she's found."

Tom Markham sighed deeply at his protégé as he got up to leave.

"You're not fooling me, Heather."

* *

"Are we really off the grid here?" asked Blair.

"We are. No phone signal. No internet. Not even my publisher knows where I am."

Blair was barely able to contain her laughter. Florence rolled her eyes and continued.

"He's pretty much going to kill me when I get back to New York."

"Where are we?"

"Let's see," said Florence. "We left the jet at an airfield near Malahide. From there, the ferry took us north. I should really remember what this island is called."

"Is this the island-" started Blair.

"Yup. I own it. Every bit of land you see outside is mine."

Blair squealed and rushed outside the stone manor. She saw the beautiful blue sea stretch out to the horizon and meld as one into the sky.

"Like it?"

"Love it, Flo," she said and pulled Florence into a deep kiss.

"You know," said Florence with a devious smile. "The housekeeper and her husband stay all the way on the other side of the island. They'd have no idea if we decided to have a little fun."

"Where do you have in mind?" asked Blair between frantic kisses.

"There," said Florence, pointing towards a crag jutting out into the sea. Centuries of waves had eaten away most of the rock face, leaving a narrow ledge of land suspended above the frothy waters. A succession of waves crashed into the rocky crevice, spraying a fine mist of water which glinted in the sunlight.

The next hour was spent on a tortuous hike, clambering over misshapen rocks until they finally reached their destination. A few clouds gave them respite from the sun.

"I swear," Blair grumbled. "This is the most you've made me work for sex, including the time you refused to touch me until you finished editing a chapter."

"Isn't it worth it?"

They took a long moment to take in their surroundings. The sun was filtered behind a film of clouds, casting a dull grey veil across the sky. The waters in the distance looked calm, growing increasingly furious as they raced towards the landmass and hurled themselves against the rock face. In the far horizon, they could see where Ireland ended and the sea began.

"You're a little overdressed, aren't you Flo?"

She smiled and took Blair's hand. They were at the edge of the cliff, where the grass ended. They held each other and kissed. Blair teased her lover's tongue, coaxing it into a duet. Every move she made was slow and methodical, from her kisses to her fingers undoing one button at a time.

Her body ached for more. She wanted to rip both their clothes off and fuck until neither of them could walk upright.

But she wouldn't. Flo wanted to take it slow, a quiet contrast to the fury of the waves below them. Flo kissed her neck gently, reaching inside her dress until she found her nipples, hardened to points.

"I love you so much," she murmured, freeing one breast and latching onto it with her lips. Blair let out a throaty moan.

Blair had finally reached the last button and pulled apart her lover's dress to reveal that she wore nothing underneath. Her pale flesh peeked out at her invitingly. She rolled Flo onto her back and kissed her on the forehead.

"Not more than I love you."

The sun briefly came out from behind its cloudy veil and illuminated Flo's supine form. Her cerulean blue eyes sparkled up at Blair who kissed her on either cheek. She trailed her kisses down Flo's neck and between her breasts. Her hand kneaded the pliable flesh, grinding them. She made a ring of her fingers around her nipple and flicked it with her tongue.

"Fuck. Do that again."

Blair obliged, switching from one to the other and back. Her hands expertly played with Flo's nipples while her mouth dipped lower. Her lips covered the length and breadth of her torso, kissing and playfully nipping at the skin.

"Don't stop," she begged, holding Blair's multi-hued hair.

Blair took her advice to heart. She grabbed the hand holding her hair and kissed from the shoulder all the way to the palm. She looked into those breath-taking blue eyes while she took each manicured finger into her mouth and wrapped her tongue around it sensuously.

Her lips pressed against her arm on their slow journey back to her breasts. She took one nipple between her lips and rubbed it with her tongue, sending jolts of pleasure through Flo.

She knew everything about Flo's body. She knew how sensitive her breasts were and how she always felt when her nipples were treated gently, gradually increasing the intensity until she could not take it anymore.

Blair was a maestra and Florence, her Stradivarius. Each part of her body was a string she could play, sending her into unimaginable pleasure.

Florence fumbled with her pants button before she loosened it enough for Blair to unceremoniously yank them off. She was pleased to see Florence's lack of underwear extended to her pussy as well. Her pink lips glistened with wetness.

Blair sat on her elbows and studied the pussy in front of her. The way the pink blush inside gradually gave way to the pale flesh. She dipped her finger in the nascent wetness and tasted it.

"You taste sweet," she commented.

Florence looked down to see Blair offering her two moist fingers. She tasted herself.

"Tastes like a seventy four Sangiovese. I bet you could bottle this stuff and sell it for millions."

They laughed and Blair parted her engorged lips. Her eyes immediately saw the clit barely visible under the hood crowning the arch above the entrance. She kissed Flo's inner thigh and brought her lips agonisingly close to the clit before taking a sudden detour to the other thigh.

"Oh God!" groaned Flo, clutching tufts of grass.

"Tell me what you want. Tell me."

"Put... your mouth... down... there," she squeezed out between gasps.

"You'll have to be more specific," said Blair with a naughty twinkle in her eyes. She was young and lacked technique, but compensated for it with a raw, feral desire, interspersed by moments of capriciousness.

"My clit. Lick... my. Oohhh!"

Before she could complete her request, Blair clamped her lips around the clit and pushed her fingers into Florence simultaneously. Her tactile tongue went from side to side, up and down, driving her to ecstasy with every movement while her fingers slowly probed the inside of her lover. The fleshy walls pulsed under her touch, her fingertips slowly passed through until they hit what she was looking for.

"Found it. Again," she mouthed. "I'm getting really good at this."

Florence was too far gone in her pleasure to hear what she said, let alone respond. She dutifully turned her attention back to the splayed pussy lips before her, begging for attention. Her lips and fingers worked magic. Flo screamed and grabbed Blair's head to her pussy tightly.

Explosions of pleasure ricocheted inside Flo's nervous system, sending her into sensory overload. It felt like all of her body had coalesced into one erogenous zone, feeding off itself and thrumming with desire.

Blair swapped her fingers and lips, rubbing her clit with her thumb and slipping her artful tongue deep inside her velvety walls. Her taste and smell were intoxicating to Blair. She had only one goal and she worked like a machine, thrusting her tongue as deep inside her as it would go.

"I'm gonna-"

The warning was too late. Blair felt the rush of wetness flood out of her lover and onto her face. Her body spasmed and writhed. Flo came and came, dampening the patch of grass under her pussy.

"Oh God! That was... Oh!"

Blair crawled up her body until their faces were level, their eyes a few inches apart. The sweat of their bodies intermingled with the strong odour of sex and the salty ocean breeze.

"I don't know how to describe what you did to me right now," Florence said, expending considerable effort to string together a coherent sentence. "... and I write stuff like this for a living."

Blair blinked, feeling a sudden coolness on her upturned back. A drop of rain. She looked up to see the sky had turned slate grey during their time on the cliff. Rain came in intermittent drops, threatening to turn into a downpour at any moment.

"We have to get back," she said, getting to her feet and grabbing her discarded clothing. Flo reached until she found her dress.

"Blair," she said and stopped abruptly.

"Yes?"

"Marry me."

The two words turned off gravity for Blair. In an instant, everything she knew and held dear were utterly meaningless. Her disbelieving ears and rapidly beating heart did not dare believe it.

"I admit I made up my mind in the last five minutes. I don't even have a ring to give you. But believe me, I have never been so sure of anything in my life than that I want to spend the rest of it with you."

Blair's heart thumped so loudly against her chest, she was afraid it would break her ribcage and burst out.