"You think of everything. Sorry I've been a loon tonight. Thank you for not freaking out. I'm really only like this for about twelve hours. n.o.body agrees if it's an estrogen drop or a progesterone surge."

I set the brownie pan and a knife on the coffee table before I joined her again on the sofa. The warm aroma of chocolate was going right to my head.

I didn't know anything about raging hormones, but I had to admit, Tess did seem to know when hers were whacked, and she never did say anything like her hormones made her do it. I don't think I'd like feeling as if someone had slipped me a drug and I couldn't control my emotions or body, but everybody expected me to.

"I'm sorry I was rude earlier. About your hormones. I believe in them."

Her mouth hung open for a moment. "Oh. That's-n.o.body has ever said that before." I heard her swallow. "Thank you."

"Too bad we're nice girls, huh?"

"Speak for yourself."

"Well, I meant..."

"What?"

What had I meant? "Nothing."

"Something. We've gone too far in baring our s.e.xual souls to stop now."

"I was just thinking, well, you like to tease and be on top and I like it when the woman I'm with does that with me. And I could f.u.c.k you for hours if that was what you wanted sometimes. Hold you down and ..."

The air between us was suddenly thick and I couldn't breathe it in. I was incredibly aroused at the thought of taking care of Tess's itch. If she'd needed a backrub I'd have given it without a second thought. How was this different?

She took a sharp breath. "What are you suggesting, Brandy?"

I was still stunned by my own audacity. Maybe the brownie smell was releasing some sort of inhibition reducer. I felt just a bit dizzy.

In the pages of the many old and new lesbian anthologies stacked on my bookshelf, women were having s.e.x with strangers, in threesomes, in emba.s.sy bathrooms, at the top of the Statue of Liberty, with h.o.a.rds of biker daddies and bevies of stiletto-wearing femmes. They were playing out fantasies with costumes, ropes and all manner of toys and though some of it wasn't what I dreamed about in my most outlandish fantasies, it all still sounded good. Alive, free, sensual and, most of the time, very loving. Taking care of each other, whatever that meant.

Like, do unto her what she wants, so that she may do unto you what you want.

"f.u.c.k buddies," I said. "We can be f.u.c.k buddies."

We never did eat the brownies that night. In a mix of laughter and nerves we'd cleaned toys and fetched towels. I hadn't really thought we'd go through with it, but when we'd stood there, next to my bed, accessories laid out in almost clinical precision, Tess had pushed the hair back from my face.

Leaning close, her fingertips had feathered down my shoulders and arms. There was no turning back after she asked, in a husky voice, "So, you like to be teased?"

"Who's that?"

I nearly knocked Tess down and had to grab her hip for balance. We'd almost reached the main reception plaza, and she'd stopped right in front of me. The brief contact made me flash on our last night together. It had been nearly a month-too long, at least for me. And after Paige, well, the thought of Tess's hands cupping me had me tingling. We had agreed, Tess and I, that as f.u.c.k buddies we only sought each other out in dire need. I was getting there.

"I know that woman from somewhere."

I could only see her back now. For a new arrival she was early in the day. Though the guests leaving and guests arriving overlapped for several hours, rooms wouldn't be ready until the current occupants left. She had a ton of luggage, too. She was tall, thin like a bicyclist, and her kinked black hair was cropped short to a shapely scalp. "I don't know. I can't see her face."

I belatedly realized I was still holding onto Tess's waist. I reluctantly let go. Touching her felt really good. It always did.

"Oh-she's turned around."

"That's Celine Griffin," I said automatically. Holy s.h.i.t, I thought. Celine Griffin.

"Who?"

"She's a comic, a lesbian stand-up comic. She was on Leno. Cover of some magazines."

"Oh-she must be with the Ladies on Vacation group."

"Huh?" I remembered seeing the group booking on the weekly info sheet, but I rarely took the time to read those. I didn't need to. People would easily tell you all about themselves. Being a good listener was one of my strengths.

Tess gave me a look like I was stupider than a bag of hammers. "I knew you'd missed it. You duck the meetings and don't read the sheet. Probably just as well because you'd have been driving me nuts in antic.i.p.ation."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ladies on Vacation is a lesbian tour group. There's more than three hundred of them arriving today. They booked the whole resort."

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. "No way."

"Way." Tess smirked. "I nearly pointed it out to you but I thought you could use a big surprise. Though I guess if you'd known about it, you might have been more selective this morning."

Lesbians. Not straight women dabbling in what they felt was kinky. Not curious first-timers wondering if they'd prefer the other side. Lesbians, bona fide, already-know-what-to-do-with-a-c.l.i.t lesbians.

My entire body, only recently recovered from wishing Paige had had a thought about what I might like, abruptly felt swollen.

Tess was a.s.sessing me with a kind, familiar gaze. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"Nothing I did this morning takes the edge off what I could do tonight," I said. My voice had gotten raspy and my mouth was dry.

"You have a real good time, then," Tess said as she resumed walking toward Village Square. "Just play safe, as you always say to me."

We skirted Celine Griffin's impressive collection of suitcases. I was trying not to stare at the celebrity when I saw Paige bearing down on me. She still wore her swimsuit and cover-up. With a sinking feeling I realized she had something small in her hand, and I knew what it probably was.

Tess veered off with a cheery, "See you later."

I smiled a welcome at Paige and gritted my teeth for the inevitable.

The silence was awkward. Then Paige held out the small jeweler's box, emblazoned with the logo of the Club Sandzibel Boutique.

"I wanted to get you something."

"You didn't have to." I was cringing inside. Paige had not thought this through.

"I-I wanted to. Nothing like that has ever happened to me and I just wanted to make it, I don't know, special."

"Really, Paige, I can't. It was... special, yes, but..."

"If you don't like it you can take it back. Get something else, or the cash, or whatever..."

I tried not to let a smolder of anger show. "If I do that what does that make me?"

She blew out her breath and I realized the thought had never occurred to her. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pay you or something. I'm just trying to thank you." She didn't seem p.i.s.sed or sad, just confused about what to do.

"I know." I would have hugged her if there hadn't been so many people around. "Whatever that is, why don't you keep it for yourself? To remember something unexpected. And remind yourself that you have-" I realized the man I spotted approaching us was her boyfriend. "To remind you that you have choices." I glanced meaningfully over her shoulder.

She straightened nervously and her drawl broadened again, but it wasn't the least bit lazy. "Some things never occurred to me. That's what I'm trying to thank you for."

"I understand, Paige. So keep the memory. And the memento."

She closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded. She turned away just as her boyfriend arrived. He was not a happy man. Glancing at the box in Paige's hand, he snapped, "Found jewelry you liked then?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." The last thing I heard her say was, "I'm not going to apologize again for not wanting to get married ..."

"Sounds like you won a toaster oven."

The sardonic observation came from behind me, and I turned to find myself the object of Celine Griffin's attention. On TV and videotape she looked elegant and cool. In person, even with a fine glimmer of perspiration at her hairline, she looked ten times more elegant, twenty times more cool and fifty times more s.e.xy. Something about the deep cocoa of her skin made me want to go on staring at her. Defined shoulders highlighted a collarbone I had, from time to time, fantasized about licking.

I wondered if, just by studying my expression, she could tell I had a framed magazine cover with her face on it in my quarters. That was where Tess knew her from. I'd have to take it down before Tess saw it or she'd never give me any peace. I tried for humor. "Not the first one."

"I'll bet." She gave me a close once-over and I wished I hadn't gone swimming in my workout clothes. Then I remembered my hair was a shambles and at that point I was certain I was blushing.

Celine Griffin-ask anybody-has the most incredible eyes, a dark blue with yellow rings. In her hour-long cable special a few years back, she'd acknowledged them as a legacy from a Caribbean slave owner seven generations back.

"You work here?"

"Yes." Belatedly, I remembered that I did, indeed, have a job to do. "Welcome to Club Sandzibel. Do you have any questions about the all-inclusive nature of our program?"

She shook her head, looking amused at my practiced speech. "I've been to other clubs, just not this property. What's your specialty?"

I laughed. "How should I answer that?" Her eyes went cool and I realized my tone had been suggestive. But then, I had thought her question was flirtatious. Hiding a nervous gulp, I quickly added, "Circus tumbling and occasional onstage ham. But mostly stretching, and several daily fitness routines."

She looked me up and down again and her eyes implied she liked what she saw. "I can tell."

Confused by the hot and cold in her flirting, I didn't quite know how to respond. "I lead a Bosu ball Body Pump cla.s.s at two, if you want to plunge into activities. A lot of guests prefer to start slow, however."

"I'll try to remember." Again, she gave me a lazy appraisal. I was starting to wonder if she had an unconscious tic that made her look at all women like she was planning to take them to bed. Or maybe it was me. After all, I was chatting casually with Celine Griffin and by tonight there would be lesbians all around me. This was in addition to the steady throb between my legs left over from Paige and thinking about that first, incredible night with Tess.

I flailed about for something to say and retreated into work mode. "Has someone made arrangements for your bags to be taken to your room?"

"I believe so, but thank you. Is your name really Brandy?"

"It really is. Coincidence that it matches the hair."

"Was it hard to grow up with that name?"

I shrugged. "It's short for Brandywine. I haven't had the guts to ask my mom if that's what she was drinking the night I was conceived."

She laughed so heartily that heads turned. Since I suspected the answer was yes, it really wasn't a joke to me, but other people always did laugh because they didn't know my parents the way I did. "It gets worse."

"How?"

"My last name is Monsoon."

"Oh, no way."

"Way."

"And is that indicative of anything in your personal nature?" The flirtatious twinkle in her eyes was very p.r.o.nounced. Her sheer white tank top set off her skin to perfection and if I stared, which I realized was exactly what I was doing, I could see that her nipples were even darker than the rest of her sleek skin. Darker, and slowly hardening-watching them rise was bewitching.

I felt on uncertain ground with her, and other staff were listening. I played it safe with, "Come to Bosu ball at two and I might answer that."

She quirked an eyebrow as if to say I'd scored a point in the flirtation game. I nodded with what I hoped was a sultry kind of cool, instead of the dizzy, bemused way I actually felt, and headed for my quarters. I needed a shower, a very cold shower.

Chapter Two.

In the chaos of my studio apartment I found the tour group update sheet for the coming week. The group was called LOVE. I felt stupid for not having seen the opening lines. The "Ladies" on Vacation Enterprises could also be "lesbians." The resort will see 312 female guests and their families in buildings A, B and E. Buildings C and D will be unoccupied; expect maintenance and carpet layers. Entertainment provided by LOVE. We are advised most are couples and should be treated as such. Male staff are cautioned to avoid the appearance of flirting or staring, and all staff are advised to be additionally sensitive to avoidance of s.e.xual or s.e.xist jokes, even in adult-only settings...

Three hundred and twelve lesbians. They were going to be the only guests we had. Okay, maybe most of them were in couples, but surely one of them might be interested in a short but trim, red-haired woman who, among other things, could improve their golf game. I realized I felt about as giddy as I had the one time I'd gone to the Dinah Sh.o.r.e Cla.s.sic. This year's tournament had been just a few weeks ago, and if I could have afforded it I might have gone, pining for lesbian company as I was. How good was life that instead of my having to find a landscape of lesbians, they'd found me? d.a.m.n. Life was very good.

After a change of clothes, a losing battle with my hair and a quick pit stop at the lunch buffet for an apple, I headed for the other end of the resort toward the KidZone. Of course it was a longer route to go by reception on the way, but I couldn't resist.

I saw d.y.k.es, with a capital D, d.y.k.es and d.y.k.es and d.y.k.es. I felt like a kid at a picnic.

Hot d.y.k.es, I like hot d.y.k.es, I sang to myself. This kind of girl likes tasty hot d.y.k.es. Fat ones, short ones, d.y.k.es that climb on rocks. Femmie ones, butch ones, and maybe d.y.k.es with strap-on co- "Brandy, can you lend a hand with the queue?" Randall interrupted what I thought was an inspired commercial jingle for lesbian delights, but Randall had been put on this earth to squelch all the fun out of my life.

"I've got a couple of minutes before Rhea's expecting me."

I helped Sarah and Steffie from Sausalito find their room keys and explained the weekly calendar while reiterating their freedom to do whatever they liked.

"You mean we can just go down to the beach and get snorkeling gear any time?"

"When the snorkel hut is open, during these hours." I pointed out how to read the color coding. "And there are daily lessons at ten, so you might want to sign up to be sure to get a spot."

Linda and Libby from Lynchburg promised they'd meet me tomorrow for Morning Stretch. June and Jody from Juneau were eager to try sailing, while Deena and DeeDee from Dayton couldn't wait to stay in their room all week, nudge nudge. Then Mary and Tina from Spokane completely blew my alphabet fun, but they were dumping their bags in the room and heading for the nearest pool.

That's when I remembered that phrase from the weekly sheet: Most are in couples. h.e.l.l, they were all in couples, it seemed to me. It was a great jazz to have so many lesbians around me but so far I wasn't getting any heat from them. The heat was all on my side and I was certainly feeling it.

As I walked the rest of the way to the KidZone I pondered the ethical dilemma. I had few qualms about spending some quality moments with an entangled straight woman who sought me out and made the first definitive moves. But would I feel the same about an entangled lesbian? It seemed unsisterly to the other lesbian to fool around with her girlfriend, even if I had an engraved invitation to do so. Well, I would have to give that a lot of thought if the situation arose.

I hate ethical dilemmas and the older I got the more they dogged me, it seemed. At twenty I wouldn't have asked about entanglements. By the time I was thirty, I thought morosely, I'd be limiting myself to women who were looking for a commitment. How deadly dull that would be.

A small imp inside me wondered briefly what I would do if both women in a couple wanted to fool around, then realized the answer was a resounding Yes, Yes and Yes. Oh goodness, I didn't need to think about such things at that moment.