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It takes time, patience, and perseverance. My mother was the first obstacle but when Daddy told her that this was going to happen with the voice he usually saved for running his office, she knew better than to do anything other than nod.
It gave her a project at least. Somewhere she could focus her time and her energy. Turning her daughter into the ideal political candidate who was openly homosexual. No easy task, but one that time, money, and tenacity could address. And we had all of those things in ample supply.
Because if I make it in politics, I can make changes that will revolutionise things for women, and for all LGBTQ people.
I don’t contact Lola. Not yet. I need to do this first. I need to be who I am. It’s time for me to own my mistakes and to love myself for the woman I am—a strong, willful, intelligent woman who is also attracted to women.
I’m not sure if Lola will see my campaign announcement. I don’t get the impression she follows politics much, but who knows?
The gay angle isn’t going to be worked in, not as a part of my campaign platform, anyway--but it won’t be hidden, either. Not a secret. I want the question people ask not to be about whether I am gay. Rather, will I do my job well, and represent you as a citizen of this great state? And maybe one day, even the country?
The people will decide.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for gathering here today at the steps of the Justice Department. It is with great pride and excitement that I stand before you to announce my candidacy for representative of this great district. This moment marks a significant milestone in my life, as I embark on my journey to serve and represent the people.” I take a deep breath.
“I am deeply committed to making positive changes within our community by fighting for justice and equality for all. Throughout my career, I have witnessed the struggles faced by many individuals and families who are desperate for change. Today, I pledge to be their voice, their advocate, and their champion.” There is a little cheer from the small crowd in front of me that has gathered. I can see my mother beaming from the side.
“I believe in the power of unity and collaboration. Together, we can create a society where everyone has equal opportunities, regardless of their background or circumstances. We must work toward ensuring affordable healthcare, quality education, and job security for every individual who is striving to build a better future.” My father is mouthing along with me. I can see the pride in his face as I deliver the words as we’ve practiced for the public stage.
Politics will always be his first love and I can see that in following him into that, it has become entirely irrelevant to him that I am gay.
A suitable husband is no longer the goal. A Rutherford in the White House is the goal, whether it is him or me.
“My campaign will focus on transparency, accountability, and integrity. It’s time to restore faith in our political system and to regain the trust of the people we aim to serve. As your representative, I promise to listen to your concerns, engage in open dialogue, and to make decisions that truly reflect the needs and aspirations of our diverse population.”
“I understand that running for office comes with immense responsibility . . .”
And then suddenly I see her. Lola.
She shines like a beacon. Lola is wearing a very conservative dark red Gucci shift dress and heels. The whole ensemble looks like it could have come from my own wardrobe. Her dark hair is glossy and immaculate, and swept neatly into an updo. Her makeup is understated. Lola looks classy, like a grown up version of the Lola I knew. Surprisingly, it suits her. Lola looks as beautiful as ever.
She is looking up at me, listening to me, with her navy blue eyes sparkling. I want to jump off the podium and straight into her arms.
“Finish your speech first,” she mouths, and I continue speaking as though nothing has happened. If there is one thing I have learned from Lola, it is that the show must go on. Nodding to her, I feel renewed energy as I storm through my closing statement, delivering it with the hope and optimism for a future that I feel deep within me as Lola looks up at me. My beautiful Lola, who is so many things, but never a showgirl to me.
Epilogue Part 1
Lola- 15 years later
The scent of seduction lingers in the air. The stage gleams, but this is no cheap club. The mirrors are polished to reflect angles, to give glimpses of secret delights.
But tonight--for one night only--Lola is back, for a private function. This time, only Willow and I will be here.
I dealt with some nerves as I dressed, with the realization that years had passed and my body didn’t look, feel, and move the way it once did. But there was also excitement running through my veins about being back. Having this feeling one more time.
And for a very special cause. Performing for Willow will always be my favorite.
I step forward, my skyscraper black stilettos clicking across the mirrored floor. My black pants are tailored to perfection. I doubt anything else could make my ass look this good . . . riding the curve of my peachy flesh and then cutting in to follow my long legs. My fingers snap softly in time to the beat.
My jacket is buttoned to my chest, creating a wide V that begins at the valley between the swell of my breasts and runs up to my shoulders. My hair is pulled up into a high, perfect ponytail. Dark kohl is swept into cat-eye flicks that exaggerate the sparkle of my blue eyes. Finally, a seductive smear of scarlet goes across my lips.
I reach the edge of the stage and turn to the side, my figure defined by the crisp edge of my fitted suit. I look up under thick lashes, my eyes filled with invitation. My curves are accentuated as I make my way down with a sleek sidestep, hips rolling to the long, slow throb of the bass. My heel finds the club floor and I turn to face her.
I step forward with a confident stride. “I would leave with me tonight . . .” I whisper under my breath as I reach Willow. My palm rests against her cheek, guiding her gaze up to meet mine, as I slowly drag my thumb over her deliciously pouted lips. “Ladies first, baby, I insist . . .”
As I feel the tingles of her breath against my skin . . . I slip away. My hand rises and my fingernails trace a straight line down my chest, unhooking the button with a swift flick as my shoulders give a slow, sensual roll. My blazer falls, discarded, and the spotlight dips to focus on the crumpled heap of clothing before sweeping up my body like a voyeuristic gaze.
I invade Willow's space, my head dipping so that my lips glance against her earlobe. With a low sensual whisper, I say, “I never would have left you alone.” Standing in front of her, I drop my fingers to my hips, to tease the fabric of my pants. I peel them down, inch by inch, and my ass sways. I make slow, seductive circles as the clothing rides down over my curves. My tiny panties are black and silky. Their only purpose is to hold the cash.
