In the Nick of Time (77 page)

Taryn opened her mouth to accept, to say ‘yes’, to give a gracious gesture or two and sing it from the rafters, but something stopped her dead in her catwalk tracks… It was Nick’s voice…

Follow your dream…

The other day when she’d awakened after they’d made love and she presented her wares to the man, exposed herself in more ways than one, he’d asked for an in-depth explanation of the drawings, going straight to the one sketchpad filled with the most detailed designs. She sat him down and told him, and his intrigue, interest, and total attention to her desires delighted her… It felt so good. No… it wasn’t perfect, but his response pushed her even further over the edge.

He believed in her, told her to chase her dream until she had it backed in a corner, and if the damn thing resisted, to call him—he’d throw handcuffs on the bastard and make it submit.

“I’d… I’d love too, but I can’t.”

Vicki cranked her neck to the side as if having some out of body experience. Her eyes widened and her body twisted in a strange, yoga type way. Dale returned with her first drink, and within a matter of uncomfortable moments, the woman had dumped it down her throat and slammed the glass on the table as if to say,
‘Now what?!’

“I must be hearing things, Taryn. You did NOT just say that.”

“I did.” She shook her head. “I’m serious.”

“Listen, you’ve been trying to get back in! Has your brain gone rotten? I’ve heard all about you wishing to get back into the swing of things!” Vicki slapped the table. “I prayed for you, Taryn. I
never
pray! I visited you in the hospital… brought that big spread of flowers!”

“I know… I remember… thank you so much. They were beautiful.”

“This is Betsey Johnson, Taryn! Betsey fuckin’ Johnson! If she likes you… you’re
in
! Every Fashion Week, you’re there. It’s your first step to being back in the game, on the map and climbing!”

“I know…” Taryn lowered her head, fiddling with the napkin on her lap, turning it here and there.

“Why are you doing this? Am I witnessing a suicide?” Vicki asked woefully as she grabbed her second drink from Dale’s hand and downed that one, too.

Taryn took a deep breath. “I’m doing this because I’m someone else, now. I want to say yes and you have no idea how badly. I need the money, God knows I do, but I know if I accept this job then I won’t get back out… I’ll be sucked
right
back in. I don’t want it anymore… I can’t be
that
girl anymore, Vicki.”

The woman stared at her as if she were some strange fungus growing up along the wall, something that needed cut down, exterminated, eradicated. Then, after a while, her expression softened and her head fell back as she laughed and laughed, then laughed some more.

“Oh fuck…this is what I’ve always loved about you, Taryn. So damn unpredictable.”

Taryn sucked her teeth and got to fidgeting with her hands.

I must be crazy! This was my ticket! The golden train into a tunnel I was no longer allowed to enter! It was all set up; all I had to say was, ‘Go!’

Vicki looked about the place and exhaled, her sights on nothing in particular. “Taryn, I’m glad you’re in a good spot… I’m glad you got your confidence back, if it ever fully left. As for me, well, cue the sad, soppy daytime drama music.” She looked down, shook her head. “Everyone hates me…”

Taryn had no idea where the damn statement had come from; it seemed out of left field… but no, there was more to the story.

“Vicki, that’s not true.”

“Oh yes, it is.” Vicki’s expression turned stern. “And I’m fine with it. Really, I am. You see, I’m a hard worker, and I respect
other
hard workers. A lot of these people out here are so damn lazy. You’re not.”

“Well, thank you…”

“They want all the glittery glamour, the fame, the adoration, but don’t want to work for it and earn it. Do you remember the day we met?”

Taryn’s lips curved upward in a mischievous grin. “Of course. I had just finished that InStyle job and then we were booked for the same show.”

Vicki nodded and placed one hand over the other on her lap. “You were just coming into your own. I was quite young, too.”

“And a lot of newcomers looked up to you, anyway.”

Vicki shrugged, sucked her teeth, and stared at Taryn for several seconds before responding. “I was dealing with a lot during that time, Taryn.”

“What was going on? If you don’t mind me asking…” She took another sip of her iced tea, pleased no more seeds swam her way.

“Something dreadful… Anyway, I watched you for a little while. I didn’t know you personally, had never worked with you beforehand obviously, but most people knew who you were by then.” She shrugged. “You were a hot commodity, you got attention. That’s not what made me take a liking to you though.”

“What was it?”

“You were the
only
person that smiled at me…and it was a genuine smile, too.”

Taryn’s brows dipped and she went tongue-tied as emotions she couldn’t describe filled her chest cavity.

Who wouldn’t smile at Vicki?

The woman was beautiful and a riot. Sure, she rubbed many the wrong way, but she was unforgettable, and extraordinary people simply garnered a grin or two by simple default.

“You smiled at me when I needed it most, when I needed to feel safe.” She took a deep breath. “You and I had a conversation, and you had no idea how you helped me.” She paused, took another deep breath. “You said the
simplest
of things, and it really just helped me get through the next twenty-four hours. We were chatting and I said to you, ‘The lighting in here is vile.’ Then, I went on to complain, in my typical way.” She smiled sadly. “I added, speaking in a joking tone, that when I was a kid, I used to be afraid of the dark, and that the photographer was bringing my phobia back to the forefront. So, you leaned in close, with those gorgeous, dark brown eyes of your’ and said, ‘It’s better to be afraid of the dark, than to run from the light.’ You were old, Taryn.”

“I beg your pardon!” Taryn cackled, causing Vicki to do the same.

“No, not like that. I mean, here you were, this young twenty-two or twenty-three year old, talking like that… and it drew me to you, made me want to be around you. You see, the previous evening had been the worst night of my life. Yes, I truly was afraid of the dark, Taryn. I had been violently attacked while leaving a photo shoot the day before.”

“Oh, Vicki, I’m so sorry.” She reached across the table and gripped her hand, not suspecting such a confession in the least.

“I had the audacity to refuse his advances.” She rolled her eyes. “So, he beat the shit out of me.” She shrugged, smirked… spoke so flippantly, yet her anger over the matter remained quite fresh, and the pain and sorrow fresher. “But, he watched my face,” she said, shaking a finger. “He made
certain
to not touch a hair on my head or any skin above the neck.” She shrugged. “The show must go on…”

“Oh my God, Vicki… I would have never known! You acted so… so normal.”

“I never reported it. I knew who he was;
everyone
knows who he is. I was young, afraid, and hadn’t developed the audacity I have now. Additionally, if I’d said anything, he would have destroyed me.” Her eyes narrowed. “My ass would be right back where I started with no prospects. Blackballed and forgotten.”

“Who was it, Vicki?”

“No point in discussing that now.” She held her head high. “I know the drill, so don’t bore me with it… about how I should have said something because he could do the same to someone else, blah blah blah… wouldn’t matter! He’d get off scot-free and I’d have nothing! Anyway, he’s incapable of doing anything to anyone now… He’s dead, car accident. And far as who he was, I will take it to my grave.”

Taryn tried her damndest to navigate the situation laid at her feet. She sat before a complicated, tortured woman with simple, elegant features. Within that gorgeous shell lived a tormented human inferno, a woman no one knew, and she would never allow a living soul to come too close.

“Before you go rolling out the rusty, bloodied guillotine or borrow a stack of stones to cast in my direction, know that I’ve made up my mind and the decision is final. I know it’s not the P.C. thing to do.” She rolled her eyes and put her fingers in quotes. “But it’s what is personally best for me.” She looked down into her lap, thoughtful, and slicked her tongue real slow across her upper lip.

Taryn shook her head. “You know better than that. I’m not judging you, Vicki… I’m not judging you at all.”

They sat for a while, in silence but for the sounds of the people around them talking and the clanking of silverware and plates.

“That next day, I came into work with my head held high, put a little make-up on the bruises and carried on as usual.”

“I can’t believe it… I just can’t believe it.”

“Oh, I think you can, Taryn. Something inside of you probably told you I was in some sort of mess. Out of
all
the people there, you came up to me. There had to be at least fifteen other models standing around. I took the words you said to heart. It gave me permission to just breathe and not run from things, let them destroy me. Over the years, I heard people making snide remarks about me, saying I was a bitch, and I made a choice at that moment to protect myself at all costs. No one offered me a slither of kindness, a well placed laugh, nothing… but you came up to me and… you
smiled
.

“You also told me that I was really good, and you’d always wanted to meet me. You intrigued me, Taryn. Over the years, we never spoke on a daily basis, but when we did talk, it was for hours and I felt like I’d known you my entire life. You were fun, exciting, and good…
so
good. I still considered you a close friend, no matter where in the world I was, and how much time had passed.”

“Me too…”

“And when I heard about your diagnosis, it just…” She hung her head and shook it, then looked back into her eyes. “It really did something to me. I cried so hard. It made me think about mortality too, and all the time I wasted being angry and fighting myself. It seems like all the good people get screwed over, and the bad people get
all
the luck.” She shook her head and smirked. “I hated that this had happened to you. You were hanging on, wrestling every damn moment trying to keep a grasp on life, and here I was, taking it for granted. Seeing you like that…sick like that, well, it changed me.”

“It changed me, too.”

“Why, of course it did. I learned a lesson though, through
you
. A simple one: ‘Be grateful.’ I knew if you made it through, God willing, you’d have a tough time of it. You were still smiling though. In that hospital bed, you just kept smiling…”

“I had to, Vicki. I had to stay as upbeat as I could, for as long as I could, because I couldn’t let cancer win. If it was going to take me down, then it was going to have to fight me.” She gritted her teeth as she relived spells of the trauma.

“And what a fighter you were. You were still beautiful though—bald, bruised, skinny as a run over penny and all… but just… lovely.”

They smiled at one another and reached out to hold hands tight.

“Thank you for visiting me in rehab, too, Vicki.”

“Of course… I had to. I needed to see you.” She swallowed, her face deep in concentration. “You know, when I met you that very first time, I said to myself, ‘What a pretty girl…’” She blinked away tears. “‘What a kind, generous, pretty girl…’ I liked your voice, too. I liked how authentic you came across and I knew you’d make it if you kept on and worked hard… and you did.”

“We’ve done so many shows together, Vicki! Damn, just think about it! We’ve had so many parties, travelled all over the damn globe! You’re crazy, you know that?”

The woman grinned. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“No, I’m serious. People
don’t
hate you, honey! They’re
envious
, want what you have. You say I’m authentic? Well baby, you’re the
real
McCoy!”

The woman laughed mildly, nodded, and withdrew her hand to cross her arms over her chest, closing the door, locking Taryn out, leaving her in the damn cold. The glimmer that once danced in her eyes all but evaporated, leaving the shell… the one that was talking, but simply no longer cared.

“…I’ve never told anyone but my therapist about it, except now. I told you, Taryn, so that you’d understand the impact you had on me; how at times, you were one of my few friends. I’m a wild card but people are addicted to my persona—the person I portray, anyway. They don’t really know me… Taryn, no one
really
knows me.”

She nodded in understanding. “Well Vicki, people can’t get to know you if you don’t ever reveal your true self…”

The woman sighed. “Yes, I suppose. This… this is all I have.” She threw up her hands. “I have my looks. It’s what brings in my checks, pays my bills, gives me the lifestyle I require. I don’t want a sugar daddy; I just want a good fuck and then to return him from whence he came.” Her teeth glistened as she chortled deep and heavy, yet it wasn’t real… No, her surface joy lay saturated in viscous layers of bleeding pain. “Enough of that shit, a bunch of damn sadness.” She sighed and slapped the table, bringing everything to an abrupt stop. “I don’t
do
sadness. I do never ending diets that make me want to go out and slice someone up into tiny cubes, boil them, and have myself a grandiose meal.

They both burst out laughing.

“I’m beginning to think you’re a cannibal, Vicki.” Taryn winked.

“A man eater? Many would agree.” She winked back. “Anyway, I wanted you to ride with me, for us to do this together, but you tell me you don’t want it anymore. I don’t understand.” She shook her head in disbelief. “But I can respect your decision. What’s going on though?” Her eyes narrowed.

“If I told you, you might think it’s comedy hour.” Taryn grimaced as she leaned back in her seat, not completely believing her nerve.

“Try me.”

“I don’t want to abandon ship completely. I love fashion.”