My Yuri Harem{Vol. 2}: UnHappening [36]

The day started like usual. I dressed up, grabbed my coffee, and sat down in the car. I fired the engine and let the car hum as I sat in silence. The car was making its usual clunking noise under the hood, but it had become a rhythm to my ears. Why Madonna drove this hunk of metal was beyond me.

It had been eight months since I hired Madonna. The life in Nepal moved on its natural pace. But I was still skeptical regarding her situation with Priscilla. I had instructed her immediate senior to keep a keen eye on her. And there was nothing but good news about her. How the sales had increased almost immediately after her joining was beyond us. We came to know she was an expert outside office, but she really spread her wings and went beyond for the growth of our brand.

Specifically targeting the ones which stood in the top 5% of Nepal’s income was a good move. Making them interested in VRM resulted in a successful two week campaign for our finances. Following that, she targeted their rich kids and national sportspeople into Velocity Red’s sports cars. Throwing out complex terms and backing them up by her thorough study, she made her critics weak in their knees. The news of sports luxuries hit Nepal like a storm. We discovered the latent potential of our product, but what we didn’t know was that the neighboring nations like China, India and Japan were taking note.

Thus, when Velocity products were out, they were sold our or pre-booked in the first two hours. The company was projecting a big turnover in the first year of our brand’s expansion. Some of us joked that maybe one of the partners may potentially land on Forbes’ list.

But above all, the major undeniable reason for all this success came through Word of mouth, targeted advertisements and social media. And all of these ideas and strategies came out of the brain of one Madonna House.

I turned my head and saw her exit her house. A sweet little one-bedroom apartment, not suitable for our Chief Marketing Officer. She walked around and occupied the passenger’s seat in her own car. As she shut the door behind her, she giggled at me for the night we had spent together. I rolled my eyes and put her car in gear. It made a huge pop before the engine forced her hunk of metal to roll on the road.

As we passed the local market, the fragrance of spices and fish filled our nostrils with rejuvenation. Our bodies needed that power to struggle through our days. It had been three weeks since we slept together for the first time. Our staff party on a cruise raised various kinds of waves among our hearts. The three days we had for our vacation were spent in my cabin. We marveled at the setting sun over the horizon from my cabin window. Two women, arm and legs entangled, sharing their body heat against the violent winter. The colder the air got, the tighter we held each other.

Experimentation that Madonna executed on my body was worthy of a standing ovation. The way that girl could move her tongue, legs and toes made me switch my sexuality. I never knew a drunk kiss could get us this far. I never knew alcohol would expose me to a whole different hemisphere of pleasure. And I would be entirely grateful to god for a human’s ability to change.

  We were nearing the office when I reminded the love struck Mad to behave. She pouted, but I made sure she understood the words I was speaking. Nepal was a great country. But it wasn’t progressive enough to accept homosexuals. The native culture clashed with our progressive ideals. But before that, even I am not clear if we are a couple or not.

Sure, we had sex daily. Sometimes at her place, sometimes at mine. Sometimes at hotels. Other times out of city. And we may have gone on a sex rampage in Venice too, but it was not clear yet. We had cute names for ourselves, and we cooked meals for each other. I had told her about my ex husband, and she had told me about her childhood friend. But I was still not clear about us.

“Madonna, what are you doing after this?”

“Hmm? I’d probably go home with a beautiful lady. She works at my office,” She replied as she smiled at me.

“I need to talk to you. There is something that has been bugging me…” I almost didn’t want to say it.

“Alright, you know what? I’ll come in your office during lunch time. We can talk then,” Madonna suggested.

It seemed like a good idea, so I nodded to her suggestion. I parked her car and we exited. As I slammed the door, I asked her, “You know we have our own cars. Why don’t you get a new one? The chipped red paint doesn’t represent you.”

Madonna removed her goggles and shot a knowing smile at me before saying, “Yeah it does.”

I was curious to know more about her, and her life. But I put those thoughts on the back of my mind as I remembered that a pile of paperwork waited for me.

It was difficult to spend five hours when I knew I was going to confront her. I had written all my questions on a scrap paper, the one that I pinched in between my fingers. The decision was to be made. Today.

She entered the room without knocking, scaring the life out of me. I settled back in my chair as I grabbed my breath when I saw her getting comfortable across the table. I signalled her to close the blinds and lock the door. While she obliged, I took a sip of water and boosted myself for ‘THE TALK.’

Madonna came back and sat down, still sporting her cheerful attitude. I glanced at the piece of paper in my hand one more time before I looked straight at her and let my words out.

“Maddie, what are we?”

It seemed like the air stood still when I uttered those four words. It seemed like my vision went blurry for a second. But I kept my cool and tried my hardest to keep my focus on Madonna. She was sitting silently, with no emotions what so ever. I felt like I was losing consciousness. I saw Madonna getting up from her chair and moving towards me. I moved my chair and made a cavity for her to slip into. She stood near me and looked into my eyes for a long time. So did I. And she forced me to close my eyes when she pushed her rosy lips against mine.

 The content and passion my soul felt at that moment was unfathomable. It lasted for a brief period, but the aftertaste lingered for what seemed like a lifetime.

She stood straight up, tucking her hair behind her ear, and looked away. I could see her flushed face from the side. But the emotions we felt were mutual, and I replied with rubbing my cheeks with my own hands.

“Blessing, I like you. I want to spend more time with you. And I would love to stand next to you,” After a brief pause, she continued, “Does that define what we are?”

It felt really nice hearing those words out of another human being. Not since I had left my husband did, I feel this gush of emotions in me. And from another woman, nonetheless. I opened my palm and the piece of paper fell on the ground. I reached for her hand and wrapped my fingers around her. Did she always have these well defined fingers? I was already exploring something new about her.

 “So, are we like, dating?” I asked Maddie, still trying to define our union.

 She turned her head and kissed on my forehead. Then, barely audibly, she said,” Yes. Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?”

            

              I lowered my head until my chin touched my cardigan. i could feel my face getting warm with all the blood that pumped in my cheeks. I nodded softly to answer Madonna’s invitation.

            

              Madonna chuckled and started walking away from me. I looked up and she was already at the door, ready to bust out. I stretched my arm and told her to stay. She said she had to go back to work, but I used my CEO powers to sit her back in the chair.

           

              The clarity that we were a lesbian couple was still illuminating my mind, but it didn’t cloud m second question. “Mad,” I said,” If we are a couple, do you mind answering one more of my questions?”

                 

               Madonna, full of confidence, shot me a thumbs up. This time, I didn’t need my piece of paper,” We have been going out for a while now. And I know we made it official a moment later, but I’d rather not let my doubt seep into whatever future holds for us.” Madonna nodded along as I spoke. “Maddie, almost a month ago, we first made love. And since then, I have shared almost everything I had in my past. On the other hand, I know almost nothing about you. Do you promise me to share what you had in your past?”

I waited for her response. She thought about it for a second, and gave me a slight nod.

THAT WAS MY CHANCE!

“Maddie, tell me, your name isn’t Shaft, right?” Once again, the air around us stood still. As I waited for her response, my mind clouded with another emotion.

Rage.

Not for three weeks, for eight months this woman had lied to me, and our whole corporation about her identity. I had waited for her to confess, but it seemed like she wanted to push this charade for as long as possible. She had touched me, with those lying hands. That rage that I felt resembled that of my husband having sex behind my back. Suddenly, the love evaporated, and I slammed my hands on the table loud enough to make it pang.

This time, it was Madonna who was looking down into her lap. I bend towards her and rephrased my question,” Madonna, are you a Shaft or a House?”

 “House, I’m Madonna House!” She exclaimed.

 I fell back in my chair. I didn’t believe it would be so easy to break her.

 “Blessing you have to understand-“I cut her off before she could offer her explanation. I pointed at the door behind her and said,” Seems like it’s a no date for you, Ms. House. Please, show yourself out. Your papers for dismissal would be mailed to your house address.”

 The cold tone in my voice must have hurt. I knew I was doing something really bad. To her. to myself. But most of all, to my business. I knew mixing personal business with public affairs led to nothing but a distasteful cocktail.

 But I was not going to let the woman whom I loved so much get jobless on a whim.

Wait, LOVE? Did I love her? had I already fallen in love with her??

This realization can wait, I thought to myself as I picked up the phone. I had to make a call.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Seconds later, my long distance call to London had connected.