Diamonds Are Forever (12 page)

“Hey,” she whispered, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his waist.  She tilted her head to press her ear against his chest.  His heart was racing and she was pretty sure she
knew
this time what was causing it to.  She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his body against her.  Her own heart was beating so fast, she could practically see it through the thin cotton of her dress.

“Sorry for dragging this on for so long, you must be so tired,” Damian said, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, close to her lips.  Her body buzzed, not even sure what she was anticipating exactly.  All she knew was that she loved every feeling, every sensation that was coursing through her at that moment.  She wasn’t really tired.  She felt more as if they had both shared a bottle of wine on an empty stomach and were lazing in each other’s arms in front of a fireplace.

He turned her towards him, cupping her face in his hands as he leaned his forehead against hers, in that same way that they had in the front room of her boutique.  Damian looked at her, as if he were searching her eyes for some sort of signal. 
Lean in,
Gemma told herself. 
That’s what he’s looking for.  Just a little, and that’s all he needs…

But just as she was about to, Andy interrupted once again
.

And of course, the next spot they looked at was the one they stood in front of now – the one that Damian had run up and down and around with the expression of a child on Christmas morning.  He was so taken by the charming townhouse that he seemed to have forgotten everything that had happened in that loft in Red Hook.

And once again, Gemma was left wondering if she had imagined it all.

DAMIAN EVANS SPOTTED HOUSE HUNTING WITH GEMMA HUNTER

The Durt

July 11
^th
 

Damian Evans and Gemma Hunter were spotted house hunting together in Brooklyn yesterday, which begs the question – what the heck are ya doing buying a place out in the boonies, Damian? Did you not see all those zeros at the end of your latest paycheck? You do realize you’re an NBA star, right?

Anyway, while we can’t help but wonder if Gemma’s two-timing our Manhattan Prince, Corey Sloan, Jr., we almost can’t blame her for running around town with our all-time favorite, Mr. Sex God Evans.  The NBA hottie is looking better than ever and his list of alleged conquests seems to prove that every Hollywood female agrees.

Which we’re not mad about since it gives our girl Gemma an excuse for hopping around.  If Damian Evans can have a girl in every city, we suppose Gem can have a boy in every borough, right? Next up: Queens.

“Oh my
God,
one of you rip the damn band-aid already,” Zoe exclaimed.  “You’d think you’d be sick of going back and forth for as long as you have but you two masochists are having the time of your lives just dragging this on forever.”

“That is
not
what’s happening, Zo,” Gemma said, her eyes on the two stylists that were fussing over her hair and makeup, too busy to give a damn about listening to their conversation.  Zoe did her best to stand out of their way after dropping by at Gemma’s photoshoot for
June
Magazine
to listen to her woeful recollection of the previous night.

June
was doing their yearly special of new designers to look out for at Fall Fashion Week and Gemma had been chosen to showcase one of her favorite looks.  A few years ago, Armand had been among the elite group of new talent.  In fact, just about every designer that had been named to the list moved onto successful careers in haute couture.  Gemma had screamed in excitement when she found out they wanted to feature her.  With the majority of the press still happy to paint her as a failed pop star just looking to stay busy, she was especially grateful for the honor.  And unlike the other two designers being featured, the director of the shoot had asked Gemma to model her own chosen piece.

It had been ages since she herself was the subject of a photo shoot and Gemma was actually pretty excited for it, knowing it would be an opportunity to show herself in a different light.  Wanting to steer clear from everything Queen Bee, Gemma had asked for a simpler hairstyle and makeup scheme to go with the gown that she had decided to use for the shoot – an ivory trapeze dress made of a silk inner layer and a unique lace overlay that looked almost like she had dragged the fabric through shimmery cobwebs.

They settled on leaving her hair natural but slightly teased so that it was full yet light, floating around her shoulders like cotton candy.  Her makeup was comprised of some blush and lipstick, rosy hues that brought out her natural coloring.  It was exactly what she had hoped for.  She looked every bit like herself and not some carefully constructed image that she was hiding behind.  Gemma felt a bit naked, exposed – but she knew it was what she needed.  She was proud of her work and was ready to have her real name and her real face behind it.

And the best part about modeling a design that she had created was knowing exactly how the piece was supposed to move.  For a moment, after putting it on, she had forgotten about Damian and analyzing everything that had happened – and it seemed Zoe had done the same.  She stood behind the photographer, her hands clasped together in excitement as Gemma twirled and posed, showing off her creation.

“I’m wearing that to the
Leadoff
premiere, ‘kay?” she yelled at some point.  Gemma nodded, a smile beaming on her face.  She knew Zoe was a supportive friend, but she also knew that her enthusiasm for Gemma’s work was genuine.  After all, Zoe had always considered bluntness and honesty two of the most crucial parts of being a good friend. 
“It doesn’t help anyone if I lie to you and say you’re good when you’re not,”
she would often say.

Though Gemma’s shoot went for hours, the other two featured designers suggested heading out for a celebratory dinner afterward.  Gemma walked out with Zoe, giving her a quick kiss goodbye as she stepped into her car – a designers-only affair, apparently.

“Don’t forget.  Do something,” Zoe whispered, hurriedly.  “About Damian.  Pretty sure he left the ball in your court so just
do something. 
Promise? Thanks.”  She grinned, rolling up the windows of her car and speeding off before Gemma could even reply.

~

“Please, forgive me for asking this,” said Marlie after a young girl approached Gemma for an autograph.  “But who exactly are you? I kind of thought we had to be
new
designers to be in this showcase.”

Marlie was in her late fifties, among the older people ever chosen for
June
’s up-and-comers showcase.  She was incredibly tall – over six feet in her steel-toed boots, and wiry like the model who wore her design for the shoot.  The outfit she had showcased had an industrial aesthetic, like Rosie the Riveter doing
haute couture
.  It was a long-sleeved jumpsuit styled to look like a factory uniform, but with delicate, feminine accents.

“Oh, you used to sing, right?” Freddie, the other designer, nodded at Gemma before looking back over at Marlie.  Age-wise, he was somewhere between Gemma and Marlie, though she didn’t know exactly where.  “You used to be a singer and you used to go by that name.”

“Queen Bee,” Gemma said, feeling strangely embarrassed about having to say it aloud.  Sitting in the small TriBeCa restaurant with Marlie and Freddie made her feel like an adult for once, free of her history as a teen pop star.  They had arrived at the restaurant as peers despite their varying ages, and it was nice to feel like she was starting a friendship with people who knew nothing of her history. 
So much for that.

 “Oh, that’s cute,” Marlie said.  Gemma frowned at her use of the word, though she knew that it wasn’t meant to be condescending.  “I like that.  Why didn’t you name your line after that?”

“Oh my God, I get it!” Freddie exclaimed.  “The queen’s court! The Court! So you kind of did name it after your old career.  Ugh, I love it.”  Gemma smiled, despite herself.  She liked the name of her new line, yet she wondered why she had chosen something that was still ultimately tied to the career she so wanted to escape.

“Your old jobs never totally leave you,” Marlie shrugged her skinny shoulders.  “I was a manager at a welding equipments supplier for probably as long as you two have been alive.  I think you can see how it’s influenced my design.”

“Oh my God, definitely.  It’s perf,” Freddie nodded, covering his mouth as if he was stunned by the revelation.  He had mentioned that, unlike Gemma and Marlie, he was fairly new to the city.  Gemma wondered if it was necessary for him to mention it at all, considering his unmatched level of newcomer enthusiasm.

“How about you?” Gemma looked at Freddie who was still sitting in his own happy little world.  “What did you do before this?” She thought about how he had chosen a draped viscose gown that made his model look as if she was dripping in chocolate. 
Maybe he owned a chocolatier,
she smiled.

“I lived on a farm!” Freddie giggled.  “I guess I technically was a farmer but I didn’t get paid for it since, you know, family thing.”

“I can’t say I see any farm influence in your work, Freddie,” Marlie laughed.

“My work is a reflection of my daydreams,” Freddie said, twirling his fork on the table, watching it as if he was a child spinning a top.  “And I did plenty of that while picking soybeans all day.”  Marlie gave him a grin before turning back to Gemma.

“So what did you sing that I may recognize?” Marlie asked, prompting Gemma to blush.

“Oh, nothing,” she shook her head, wanting to again divert the conversation from her life as Queen Bee.  She had done so well all day until she was approached by the fan.  “I was kind of just like… a blip in the music world in the grand scheme of things.”  Gemma frowned, realizing how true her statement actually was, even if she had intended it as a lie.

“Oh.  My.  God,” Freddie said, his fingers waving around his face as he had another realization.  “You totally used to date that famous actor guy.  The guy who just won an Oscar or something!”

“Tyler Chase, yeah,” Gemma shook her head. 
Guess we’re not changing the subject.
  “He was nominated, he didn’t win, unfortunately.” 
Not that you’ve even seen the movie.

“Oh, Tyler Chase,” Marlie said, her voice lilting with recognition.  “Oh I thought he was absolutely great in that movie he did last year, really fantastic.  And he used to be a singer too, right?” She turned to look at Gemma, placing a hand over hers.  Marlie quickly frowned, seeming to sense Gemma’s discomfort.  “Oh, but who cares what everyone
used
to be? We’re all here to celebrate what we’re
about
to be so why aren’t we doing that?”

“Because our drinks aren’t here yet!” Freddie answered, clapping his hands.  Gemma furrowed her brows at him.  Perhaps it was the darker mood that she was suddenly in, but she found Freddie’s unflappable happiness and excitement a little irritating.  As if he realized what she was thinking, he spoke up once again.  “I’m a little bit crazy.”  He nodded, as if to emphasize his statement.  “I’m sorry if it’s annoying.  I’ll try to keep it together.”

“Nuh-uh.  A little bit crazy does us good,” Marlie interjected.  “Trust the old lady here.  I would have never ended up
finally
working my dream job if I weren’t a little bit crazy.  I turned fifty and told my husband and family I had an announcement.  They thought I was planning an early retirement, not starting from scratch with a new career.  At
my age?
  With
my job?
My husband hadn’t seen me wear makeup or put on a dress since our wedding and I was about to do
what now?
And look.  Here I am.  Better late than never.”

Freddie clutched his heart and let out a squeaky little whimper as if the story had literally moved him.  Or physically punched him in the gut.  “Oh my God –
love
it!” he finally cried, ripping his hands from his chest and throwing them up in the air.  He didn’t seem to mind that nobody else at the restaurant was speaking at even a third of his volume.  “Love, love,
love
it!”

“And our drinks are here,” Gemma announced, pointing at the sparkling flutes of champagne that were set down in front of them.  It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying Freddie’s excitement, she just wasn’t yet on the same page.  She suspected a little alcohol would help though.

“Some bubbly for the bubbly,” Marlie said, holding her drink up to the effervescent Freddie.  The three clinked glasses, quiet for a moment as they celebrated the honor they had received earlier in the day.  In the brief silence among them, Gemma could once again feel the beginnings of her new life, a chapter that she had been looking forward to for years.

By their second bottle, even the copious amounts of rice in their sushi rolls couldn’t absorb the alcohol in their systems.  They were laughing perhaps just a bit too loudly, drawing the attentions of everyone in the restaurant as they shared stories of
other
times they’d been that drunk.  It was something Gemma had noticed to be a trend that tied together people of all ages and walks of life – the need to talk about how drunk one currently was and how drunk they’ve been in the past, while drunk.

“Once,” Freddie began in an attempted whisper.  “So.  Once.  This one time, I was like seventeen or something and I met this boy, and if you knew where I lived you’d know that meeting a boy
as a boy
in ‘that’ context was totally scandalous, but more important, totally rare! We were all so deep in the closet with gaydars so weak that we couldn’t find one another – but lo and behold, I was super lucky and found this fellow gay farmer boy and one night we got our hands on a bottle of vodka, got super drunk, and decided we wanted our first kiss to be with each other.  Which was amazing! Because I had already doomed myself into having a mediocre, reluctant first kiss with a girl and I just couldn’t believe I had the opportunity to have my dream first kiss. 
But,
the problem was, we both still lived with our parents and there was no way we wouldn’t get caught and there was no safe place for us to hide and make out without looking suspicious.  We had the option of our houses, our barns, and the big open soybean fields that didn’t cover nearly as much as we would like.  And since it was my first kiss – the one I had daydreamed about
forever
, I wanted it to be special and I didn’t want it to happen in a smelly barn so I suggested we build a treehouse in the one flimsy tree between our houses.”