Nora helps Margot out (Part 1)
Nora & Margot crossed the street from the hotel and walked together up the block toward Citron Hill. The magnolias were just coming into bloom, and as they passed a low branch hanging over the sidewalk, Margot bent to smell one of the pink flowers.
“Thanks for helping me out this evening. I don’t know what I’d do without you. It should only take us a few minutes.”
Nora had agreed to help Margot move an old dresser down from her apartment to a neighbor’s after work. She didn’t mind, and was secretly curious to see Margot’s place for the first time.
They walked up the middle of the steep, narrow street until it ended at a stone stairway extending up between two houses. “I’m just up here,” Margot said, starting up the stairs.
She was still wearing her work clothes, which today consisted of a button-up georgette dress tied around the waist and a pair of Greek leather sandals. To Nora, who was dressed simply in jeans and a ribbed saffron tank top with nothing underneath, Margot looked like the pinnacle of easy elegance. They climbed to the top and emerged at a narrow lane cut into the slope, lined with yet more magnolias.
At Margot’s building, they ascended a second, narrower set of stone steps up through the terraced garden to the second-floor entrance at the back. The humid air smelled floral and lemony. Margot led Nora inside and knelt to take off her sandals. Nora slipped off her shoes and stepped into the open apartment. It was stunning. High ceilings with exposed wood beams leading the eye to huge windows overlooking the city and river, a comfortable looking sofa and chairs arranged around a bright wool rug, a small open kitchen, and opposite, a pair of French doors open to the bedroom. The decor was simple and elegant, Nora thought, like Margot’s clothes, and showed a strong influence carried back from her former life in Spain.
“I’m going to change real quick, and we can move the dresser,” Margo said, touching Nora’s shoulder and pointing toward the couch. “Make yourself at home.”
Margot walked into the bedroom and swung the French doors closed behind her. Nora sat on the edge of the couch and looked out the window. Down the hill, she could just see the corner of the hotel roof deck over some trees. What a view, she thought. Something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She looked up to see that the thin curtains covering the French doors were parted slightly and that Margot happened to be standing just in view, facing away, reaching back to unhook her beige bra. Nora put her hand up to her forehead. Oh gosh don’t look, don’t look. She glanced back and saw one of Margot’s sizeable breasts in profile as she leaned to hang her bra on the arm of a chair. Nora looked down at the coffee table, desperate for anything to hold her attention so her boss wouldn’t catch her peeping. To her relief, there was a large hardcover book lying upside down, which she turned to read the spine. The New Erotic Photography. She opened the book to the middle and flipped past a few pages of text to a full two-page photo. It showed a young woman, completely naked, reclined in the bath. Her large breasts rose above the soapy water and her knees rested on either edge of the tub. One hand was pressed to her vulva, and in the other she held a showerhead directing a cascade of water between her thighs. The woman’s expression was one of sheer, indulgent pleasure. Nora felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Margot standing beside her in sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt.
“Wild book huh?” She said, tilting her head to look at the spread. “Lena gave it to me for my birthday.”
Nora felt herself blushing, but resolved to play it cool. “She’s a photographer, isn’t she?”
“Oh sure, she snaps some photos, but mostly just as reference. Has she ever asked you to sit for a painting?” Margot flipped to the next page, which showed a young woman about Nora’s age standing topless in a public park.
“No, she hasn’t. But honestly, I’d love to sometime. Her paintings are amazing.” Nora had imagined sitting for Lena many times.
“You’d come to it naturally, with your dance practice,” Margot said, smiling down at her. “What do you say we move this dresser?”
Nora followed Margot through the French doors into the bedroom. There on the bed was the georgette dress, unbuttoned, and from the arm of the chair hung her sheer beige bra. Margot was clearly not wearing one under the thin t-shirt, which showed the outlines of her raised nipples in unmistakeable detail. On the bedside table there stood matter-of-factly a turquoise silicone vibrator. She isn’t a shy woman, Nora thought, taking a second curious look at the toy.
They hefted the small dresser to check its weight, and decided to go for it. Margot swung the door open with her foot and the two women, both barefoot and braless, carried the dresser down the steep stone steps, among the flowers and ferns, to her downstairs neighbor’s door.
(Continued in Part 2)