Fatshionista (22 page)

Great, just what
I needed on top of everything else. “Lizzie, he’s gay. You and I have known
each other long enough that I won’t deny that yes, I have feelings for him, but
there’s nothing to be done about it. I don’t float his boat. Do I wish I did?
Absolutely. But that’s life, and this is work, and I don’t have time for this.
I know you mean well, but I need you to just let this one go, okay?” I looked
at her, pleading with my eyes to give it a rest. Lizzie was like a pit bull
when she got a hold of something.

“He is no gayer
than you are, Millie, and as a gay woman I am an authority on just how gay you
both are not. I don’t know why he’s pretending, but he is. What he can’t hide
are his feelings for you. And yes, it is work, and yes, it is complicated, but
I know you, Millie. I know you’re lonely, and I know this guy does it for you
and you do it for him. Watching the two of you together almost makes me hurl,
it’s so sickeningly sweet. But for some reason both of you have your heads up
your asses and aren’t doing anything about it. So I am.” She smiled and patted
me on the cheek as she tried to brush by me.

I grabbed the
back of her shirt and hauled her back around. “What the hell are you talking
about? Seriously, Lizzie, this is work; don’t screw anything up out of some
twisted sense of loyalty to me. Obviously you have your opinions about Daniel,
and I do too, but for whatever reason, he’s telling the world he’s one thing,
and it’s not our place to tell him or them anything different. I’m serious,
Lizzie, don’t do anything that would damage the reputation of this company or
me. I know you mean well and I love you for it, but please back off.”

I left her
standing against the wall while I went in search of the man I was so
desperately trying to protect. But protect from what? Me? Love? A lie? At this
point, I had no idea what I was doing, but I definitely knew that whatever it
was, there was no place in it for Lizzie and her bright ideas.

And now I was
freaking out about Lizzie’s revelation that my feelings for him were all over
my face. If she had picked up on it, what about everyone else? I had worked
hard to keep my professional and private lives separate (not too difficult when
I had no private life), but add to that the fact that my colleagues might all
think I was pining after a gay man? Just what I needed—a crew full of big
burly men who pitied me.

I stopped at the
edge of the curtain and watched while Daniel had a quick pep talk with all the
models at the end of the runway. I knew Lizzie was right about me having
feelings for him, and I was almost 99% sure she was right about him not being
gay. I couldn’t figure out why he would lie about that, and I knew it wasn’t
really any of my business. If I could just get on the other side of this show,
make my decision about my future, and then get the hell out of town for a
little R and R, I just might make it through all of this.

****

Once again I
found myself perched on the top of a ladder trying to adjust a light that no
one noticed was pointed downstage instead of upstage. I was the last one here,
and no one else was around to fix it. At least this time I had my Converse
sneakers on and wasn’t wobbling around like a weeble.

And it was kind
of peaceful being here by myself, enjoying the quiet after the storm. The
rehearsal was over, the notes were given to the crew and the models, and
everyone was all set for the big day.

“What are you
doing on the top of that ladder?”

I must have
jumped a foot, and I barely kept myself from falling over the top of the
ladder.

“Millie, watch
yourself!” Daniel yelled as he started to come up the ladder.

“Stop, stop,
stop!” I yelled. “Get off; it can barely hold me, let alone the both of us. And
what are you doing here sneaking up on me? You scared the shit out of me!”

Man, it felt good
to yell. He was speechless, but I really had almost fallen over the top of the
ladder. I hadn’t even heard his footsteps as he walked across the stage, and I
really did think the damn thing would break if he tried to get up there with
me. I had no intention of getting within five feet of him until after the show.
With Lizzie’s threats in my head and my own hormones out of control, I couldn’t
trust myself not to molest him, and damn the consequences.

“Calm down, calm
down. I’m not climbing up the ladder; I was just steadying it when I saw you
falling over the other side of it. What the hell are you doing up here on your
own, anyway? No one’s here. If you had fallen, you would have just laid here
until the show.”

I started down
the ladder after I glanced down to confirm that he was not coming up. “I’m
fine. You scaring the crap out of me was the only danger I was in. I was up
here trying to make everything perfect for your show. Please move; I’m coming
down.”

He stepped back
from the ladder but still had his hands steadying the sides. Any second now my
ass was going to be right in his face. Why couldn’t the man just do as I told
him for once?

“Daniel, step
back. I can’t get down with you blocking the way.” I shot him my meanest glare
while I paused in the middle of the ladder, waiting for him to get out of the
way.

“I’m not blocking
the way. I’m holding the ladder to make sure you don’t get hurt on the way
down. It’s the least I can do since you’re working so hard to make sure my show
is perfect.” He smiled that crooked little grin of his that he thought got him
out of every situation. Did he really think that would work? There was no way I
was going to come down this ladder and have my ass stuck right in his face. The
man was infuriating. But at some point in our conversation, I had also gone all
tingly inside. Damn him.

“What are you
doing?” he asked as I shifted to turn around in the middle of the ladder. If he
wouldn’t move, then I would just come down face-first. I would rather be eye to
eye than ass to face.

“I’m trying to
get down the freaking ladder, but you won’t move!” I couldn’t stop the
frustration or the yelling. My body was already lighting up due to his
proximity, and my mind was filled to the brim with all the freaking details of
his show, my future, life; and all I wanted to do was get off the damn ladder and
go home.

He stepped back
enough to allow me almost to the ground, but leaned into me when I was one step
away. We were eye to eye, and I was surrounded by the spicy, clean smell of
him. Part of me wanted to burst into tears at all the emotions and thoughts
pounding through my head, but the other part of me wanted to grab him and let
loose the weeks of sexual frustration that had built up.

Before I could
decide, he pulled me toward him, making me grab onto him for balance. And then
his mouth was on mine. This was not the tentative, exploratory kiss of earlier.
He attacked my mouth, and I gave as good as I got.

I sank into the
kiss, pressing myself even tighter against him at the sound of the moan that
came from the back of his throat. I loved that he was as affected by this as I
was. I couldn’t get enough of him. I had my hands in his hair, my breasts
pressed tightly against his chest. His hands had reached around and grabbed my
ass, pulling me right up against the length of him.

He picked me up
off the step and set my feet on the floor. He grabbed the ladder and leaned
into me to deepen the kiss. I could barely put a thought together; all I could
do was feel. The feel of his tongue stroking against mine, the feel of the
ladder rungs digging into my back, the feel of his hard cock pressed into the
softness of my belly.

He moved his
mouth down to my throat, kissing and licking and sucking while he said my name
over and over again. I had regained enough of my senses to pull his shirt out
from the waistband of his jeans and was running my hands up the smooth, warm
skin of his back. I couldn’t catch my breath, and the only word running through
my mind was “more.” More kisses, more skin, just more.

It took me a
minute to figure out that he was pulling away from me. My poor brain was about
ten seconds behind my body, but I finally heard the sound of ringing and
realized he was trying to get to his pocket for his phone.

I pulled back my
arms so we weren’t a tangle of limbs and tried not to growl with impatience as
he looked at the caller ID.

“Hold that
thought; it’s my mom. Just a second.”

Right. Your
mom calling while I’m already imagining dropping to my knees and taking you
into my mouth. How could that possibly break my concentration?

He kept me pulled
close while he spoke to her, switching to Hindi right after he said hello.
“Hey, Mom. No, you’re not interrupting; we just finished with the dress
rehearsal.”

I rolled my eyes
and pressed up against his length. I moved just enough to remind him he needed
to make this a quick call. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to
keep his voice even while he talked to his mother.

I tried to behave
myself, but he was so tempting and my body had yet to get the message that the
making out was put on hold.

I tried to act
nonchalant, like I had no idea what they were saying. But I was truly tested
when I heard her voice yelling over the phone, “Why am I reading that you’re
gay in New York? Why are you gay in New York? You weren’t gay in Delhi! What
happened? Did someone make you gay?”

Daniel’s eyes
shot to me, but I quickly buried my face in his neck. I knew he didn’t think I
could understand what she was saying, but there was no way I could keep the
look of surprise off my face after hearing his mother’s words.

He pulled away
from me, turning his back. “Mom, you know I am not gay. I told you there might
be things I had to do here in New York that were different from India. And I
asked you to trust me; do you remember that?”

He was too far
away for me to hear his mother’s response, but he was nodding his head and his
posture relaxed a bit.

I, on the other
hand, was now completely alert and practically shaking with…I don’t know what.
Anger, frustration, relief… I couldn’t figure out which emotion was more prominent.
On the one hand, I was completely pissed off that he had lied to everyone,
especially me, about being gay.

But on the other
hand, I was completely aroused and had pretty much come to that same conclusion
on my own about two minutes ago. At least I knew I wasn’t going crazy and
projecting my feelings onto a man who had no interest in women. But why would
he lie? Why would he think people here would only accept him if he was gay?

Well, I kind of
understood that last part. There weren’t a lot of straight designers, but I
didn’t think it mattered that much. But I also wasn’t gambling my entire career
on people liking me and my designs, so maybe I should cut him a little slack
for lying.

But damn it, I
had spent days feeling like a complete perv chasing after a man who had
absolutely no interest in women! I was eager for their conversation to end, as
I had a few choice words for Mr. Singh.

Shit. What was I
thinking? I couldn’t say anything. Well, I could, but then I’d have to admit
that I spoke Hindi, that I knew he was a total liar about where he came from
and that he wasn’t gay. Maybe the best thing to do was to do nothing at all. I
had all day tomorrow to decide how to handle this before I saw him on the day
of the show, and it sounded like he and his mom were wrapping up their
conversation.

I needed to get
out of there before he got off the phone. I did not have a good poker face, and
it wouldn’t take him long to figure out that something had changed after his
mom’s call.

I quickly grabbed
my bag and was halfway to the door before he noticed I was on the move. He was
still in the middle of listening to his mother rattle on about something, but
he started moving toward me, gesturing for me to wait.

“I’ll call you
later. You talk to your mom.” And with that, I was out the door. He was in
pursuit, but I had the advantage of not having to juggle a conversation while
running.

****

I had never felt
surer of anything in my life. That was what I kept telling myself as I wrote
and rewrote the blog post that would propel Daniel’s career to the next level
or…there was a slight chance it might destroy any chance he had of making it in
the New York fashion world. Teeny, tiny, slight chance. Really, not even a
chance, I reassured myself.

It wasn’t until
last night when I had come home from our rehearsal/make-out session that I
realized I was sitting on a pretty amazing scoop. I had just finished the final
tweaks of his show and tied up some loose ends for Marta. I had started working
on the resort show blog post when I realized that this gay persona he had
created could potentially blow up in his face, overshadowing the talent he had.
People accepted gay designers, but liars? Not so much.

I knew I had to
avoid him at all costs. I couldn’t let my personal feelings influence my
decisions as a writer. I worked from home, and I let all his calls go to
voicemail and didn’t respond to any of his texts.

Lizzie called and
said he had shown up at the office, but she had told him I was out. She said he
seemed frustrated but not mad, so I guess that was a good thing. Thankfully the
man only had a vague idea of where I lived or I knew he would be standing on my
doorstep. If the situation was reversed and he had run out on me after kissing
my brains out, I would be stalking him, too.