by Cee, DW
Did I want to reveal that finding an apartment was on my mind as well? Though my parents left me alone, I couldn’t make a move without the younger Reids knowing my business. “Sure. Where were you thinking about looking?”
“I have no idea. I don’t know the areas so I need your help.” I supposed we could look together without Lily knowing I was searching for a place, myself. “Should we go before the party or after the party?”
“Why don’t we research separately, then make plans to see all the places first thing in the morning. I’ll pick you up early.”
“That sounds like a plan.” I could hear her smile. It felt really good to make someone happy.
“See you Saturday?”
“For sure! Bye.”
My footsteps felt lighter as I walked back to the ladies still ooh’ing and aah’ing over wedding pictures. Professionally, I was sure where I was headed. Personally, I was lost more than ever when I was with Bee. She was a self-assured woman who knew where she was headed in life. It was great for her, but shits for someone whose life was at a standstill until school and residency were done in six years. Dating a woman who was also looking for her rightful place in life was perfect for me. We’d search together—at least for now—and enjoy ourselves in the meanwhile.
April 7, 2014 BEE: New Partner
I almost didn’t attend the fashion convention in Vegas this year with all that’s happened in my personal life, my life with Mom, and the new warehouse, but I was glad I did. Last week gave me a chance to catch my breath and to catch up with old friends.
Every year, my designer friends and I would rent booths next to one another at this convention and have a hell of a time with each other, more so than selling clothes. This year was no different. I didn’t have as much to show and sell this year, but I knew it was a good business strategy to stay in touch with everyone and to show the world that Beeautiful was alive and kicking ass.
“Bee!!!” A mob of women ran my way as I was the last to reach the booth.
We gave one another the biggest group hug and started playing catch-up on each other’s lives.
“Is it true you have a massive warehouse in the works?”
“Damn! Word spreads fast. How’d you know, Missy?” Melissa Missy Chang was a gifted designer originally from Singapore, but now based in LA. Her specialty was dyeing fabrics.
“It’s all over the internet that you have a new warehouse and a new Spaniard in your life.”
What the hell? “You doing background checks on me?”
Missy giggled. “I stopped by your loft, and your mom of all people greeted me. She gave me the scoop on your ever-evolving life. I didn’t realize Mom was back.”
“Do tell.” Anjelica, the guru of athletic wear, urged.
Missy and I went way back to my first days as a designer. When we met, she was a student at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising, and I was a newbie, fresh out of high school, working at a factory. Our friendship developed through an almost-catfight over burlap fabric we both wanted. Neither of us would let go, and as our voices escalated over who should have the last 10-yard bolt, we were saved from an all-out pull-each-other’s-hair-out war by an elderly woman who brought out an identical roll. We laughed off our childishness, introduced ourselves, and decided we could be as good a friends as our taste in fabric.
“Mom is back for the time being and is living with me until she finds a home for herself. As for the warehouse, I came into some unexpected funds and my brilliant nephew finagled a sweet deal for me on a warehouse not far from my house.”
Once I mentioned my nephew, the conversation strayed.
“Where is that gorgeous nephew of yours?”
“Is he single?”
“Send me his number.”
“I’d finagle a sweet deal with him any day, any night!”
All the comments and questions came at once.
I pulled out my phone and showed everyone the bad news. “Here’s his bride on their wedding day,” I announced to a slew of disappointed remarks.
“Damn! Does his wife have to be so tall, well-endowed, and beautiful?”
“It gives no hope for the rest of us when the beautiful gravitate toward the beautiful.”
“Shit! He’s as handsome as I remember. Are they happy? Is he looking for some fun on the side?”
We all laughed at Taylor’s comment. She was the one most hopeful of becoming Taylor Taylor.
“He is blissfully unaware of any woman aside from his own, they are expecting twins already in the late summer, and NO, he is not looking for fun on the side. He gets plenty of that with his wife, I’m sure.”
Missy commented jokingly, “Please tell me she’s a bitch, she’s really overweight and only lost weight for the wedding, and she’s a dumb blonde.”
I dispelled all their misconceptions. “She’s as sweet as she is beautiful, she’s a brilliant med student, and her body is all her natural self. She and my nephew are two gorgeous people, deliriously in love.”
“Damn!” was what every woman around me uttered.
Once all the hellos were said, we got working on our booths. Though I didn’t bring too many samples, it took longer than expected to set up. I was the last one to leave for happy hour at some place called something, something, Sapphire. Since Taylor chose the place, I was a wee-bit worried. She had a taste for the unconventional and tacky at times.
I had every reason to be worried. It was still bright outside when I walked into a seedy, large “bar” where Taylor was already getting a lap dance from some hunky man. Another hunky guy with a bigger chest than mine grabbed my hand and walked me to a seat next to Missy. He, too, started dancing, and I was mortified by his nonstop hips. I didn’t think men could gyrate the way women could.
This man was wearing nothing but a thong and a bowtie, and the more I pushed him away, the more he showed his goods. In the end, I gingerly sat through his “presentation” and dropped a tip in his hand as a “thank you” and goodbye!
“That was about as pleasant as getting a Brazilian wax in front of a crowd.” I announced, and gave Taylor a shake of the head. “What is this place? We’re not seriously hanging here the entire night, are we?”
The girls laughed. “We’re here for cocktails and drinks, then we’re off to dinner and a real show at the hotel.” Missy answered.
“Good.” I announced after ordering my drink.
“So you never answered my earlier question about this Spaniard your mother couldn’t stop talking about. This isn’t Nick, is it? Last I saw, he was about as American as apple pie.”
“No. It’s not Nick.” Why did talks of Nick always bring a sigh to my lips and an ache to my heart?
“What happened with Nick? You two dated for quite a while.”
I gave her the skinny on my “relationship” with Nicholas Reid.
Missy placed her hand over mine. “I’m sorry to hear that, Bee. Though I’ve only seen you two together once, you both looked like you were in love. That whole timing thing sucks!”
“It’s all good. Neither of us can alter the details of our lives. It’s not his fault he doesn’t want to get married. He’s a good guy and I wish him well.” I was pleased with myself for coming here. This time away from everyone—Mom, Luke, my loving but meddling family, and…Nick—was good for the heart. I needed this time to assess what’s happened since December, and though Nick still held a larger piece of my heart than I wished, this was all part of the healing process.
I guess deep down, I never completely closed the door on Nick. Even after Florence, even after seeing that picture of him and Lily, and even with Luke in my life, the door was bigger than its frame. It was shoved in the best it could, but never fully closed. I had no idea if he had found his soul mate in Lily, and I was just as clueless about Luke being my own soul mate. I would live life in earnest as I always had, and see what new events the Big Man upstairs sent my way.
“So, tell me about your new business operation.” Missy changed our disheartening conversation to one for which I had a plethora of answers. “I assume I’ll be on call as your expert dyer?”
“Believe it or not, when I had the dyeing room made, you were the only one I saw working in that room. Once I returned from Europe, I was going to call you and ask if you wanted to work for me fulltime.”
Missy was all smiles. “Hell yes, I’d like to work for you fulltime! Let me give notice to my current jack-ass of an employer.”
“I have another business proposal for you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I love the work you do with colors. And you know I’m a freak about a vibrant and unique color pallet.”
“Yeah, I know you’re a color-whore like I am.” We both laughed.
“When I was going over my business plan with Donovan, I talked to him about the importance of having control over the fabric and its colors and how that wasn’t an expertise for me, but it was for you.” Missy continued to be fascinated with what I was about to propose. “My brilliant nephew suggested I hire you for my clothes, but offer you a part of the dyeing business.”
Now she was really interested. “Do tell!”
“Knowing that we both have an eye for stunning colors, and knowing you can create what’s in my head, I thought I’d create a side business selling fabric, in addition to making clothes. That part of the business, I am willing to offer you half the profit, assuming you want in.”
Missy was doing some calculations in her head. “So what you’re saying is, you’ll be owner of the Beeautiful label, and you’re offering me half ownership of Beeautiful fabrics?”
I grimaced a bit at having to explain Donovan’s warnings. “Um…my nephew tells me I need to keep all the ownership in my name. But, because I know how valuable you are, I’m offering you half the profit of all the fabrics dyed and sold. You’ll have to do your share of bringing in business.” I laid it all out on the table.
“You know,” Missy said with much mischief. “I can open up my own dyeing company and be my own boss. Then you can buy from me.”
I showed her the errors of her logic. “I’ll still be buying from you, but at ‘half’ cost, and once you see how state-of-the-art this dyeing room is, you won’t leave. I promise!” I got up from my stool. The dark, smoky room was giving me a headache. “Come check out my new warehouse. It was designed with you in mind.” I tempted her the best I could.
“When do you get back from Europe?”
“Luke, the Spaniard I never explained, and I get back next Sunday. I’ll call you.”
“Get back here, Bee Taylor!” Missy wasn’t happy with the morsel of information I threw. “Why didn’t you tell me about this trip with the Spaniard? Come back and give me details!”
“If there are any details to give, it’ll have to be after the trip. My Spaniard will be waiting for me as soon as I am done here.”
I waved goodbye and headed back to my hotel room so I could talk to the Spaniard about our future.
April 10, 2014 NICK: New Places
“This place is eerily like where my grandparents live.” Lily whispered when we drove up to my parents’ home in the desert. “All I see is grass, golf carts, and old people. Are you sure anyone under the age of sixty is allowed here?”
“Yes, Smartass. I’m going to tell my mommy you called her an old fart.” I joked.
She laughed. “Yeah, you do that.”
I opened the door to our cozy little place, and was glad to see the place tidy and the fridge stocked. “Sandy Reid is being her motherly self again,” I announced pointing to the open refrigerator.
“Are we supposed to eat all that?” Lily’s eyes popped at the sight of the mass amounts of food. “Did she think you were inviting your frat house down here?”
“Who knows? She probably wanted to make sure her poor youngest child was well taken care of.”
I gave Lily the grand tour of the house and walked her upstairs to the bedrooms. This was where it could’ve gotten awkward, but like her usual cool self, Lily made her intentions perfectly clear. “I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but I’m willing to sleep in whichever room you’d like for me to sleep in. I won’t feel taken advantage of if you put me next to you in bed, and I won’t feel offended if you put me down the hall from you.”
This girl was so damn easy—she spoke her mind, she gave me real options, and she made life comfortable for us both. I loved it! I decided to show her where I wanted her tonight.
Kissing Lily was completely different from kissing Bee. Not to be an asshole and compare women, but Bee and I, from the second we touched, had serious chemistry. We couldn’t wait to tear each other’s clothes apart, and we usually did it with equal zeal and strength. With Lily, kissing her was arousing, but I felt like I had all the time in the world. We didn’t need to jump into bed this instant, and I didn’t feel crazed if we weren’t completely joined. This take-your-time speed was nice.
“How about we grab a bite to eat and continue this later?” I pulled away without much thought.
“There’s so much food here, we can’t go out to eat.” Lily reminded me.
“All right. Let’s cook, Lily-Jean. Pull up your sleeves. You’re going to play my sous chef.”
“Isn’t the sous chef the one who does all the dirty work? Chopping, cleaning, taking out the garbage type of stuff?”
“You’re brighter than you look,” I teased, and kissed her one last time.
Lily really sucked in the kitchen. I could tell she had never, ever made anything outside of microwaving frozen meals. “This is hard.” She was chopping the vegetables in all shapes and sizes.
“You’re supposed to julienne the veggies for the stir-fry.” I bumped her out of the way and took over chopping duties. “Sit.” I pointed to the island stool and nudged her to it. “Your pathetic chopping skills have earned you a seat.”
“Maybe that was my plan all along.” She giggled and grabbed herself a Perrier.
I was going to suggest she open up a bottle of white, or maybe a beer, but it dawned on me that she wasn’t old enough to drink. How had I gone from someone who wanted to get married to someone who couldn’t even have a glass of wine? My life had gone from one extreme to the other.
“Whatcha’ think?” I asked once we sat to dinner.
“You’re good.” She was inhaling her stir-fry and brown rice. “You cook all the time? Maybe I can stop by and pick up lunches on a daily basis. Maybe we can move into the same building and I’ll buy groceries if you’ll cook.”
Somehow, that statement made everything awkward. Last weekend, Lily and I had gone apartment hunting, and there was no way for me to search for a place myself, and not clue her in. I fessed up and she didn’t have much to say. Somehow, right now, talking about moving into the same building made me feel as if some clarification needed to be made.
“I’d always lived in an apartment with a roommate or two, but moved back home when undergrad was done. I thought it would be temporary until I got settled with med school, but almost two years into it, it was too comfortable to leave.” She kept chewing her food and added nothing to my explanation. “My parents are cool and they don’t get in my business. Somehow, with Gram and Grandpa living there too, I feel like it’s time to move out again.”
“Are you getting a job?” Lily immediately said, “Sorry. None of my business.”
“I took a year off after undergrad, and worked full time at a biochemical lab. I have money saved up from that year, plus I get a generous allowance.” I explained with much embarrassment. What twenty-five-year-old received an allowance from his parents and grandparents? As much as I refused, I’d find money practically under my pillow from Gram.
“So what is it that you’re trying to say? Did I say something wrong? You weirded-out on me when I mentioned living in the same building. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
&
nbsp; “I know.” I squeezed her arm to let her know I wasn’t upset. “I feel like a loser when I think about being a twenty-five-year-old receiving an allowance from his parents. When I think of my siblings and my newest cousin-in-law being so successful, it doesn’t feel good.”
“That’s crazy, Nick.” Lily put her bowl down and faced me. “You’re still in school. How can you work and attend med school? Did your siblings not get an allowance from your parents while they were in professional school?”
“I suppose they did. I don’t know. Compared to everyone around me—Jake, Emily, Jane, Max, Laney, and Donovan—I am the total underachiever. One of the reasons Bee and I didn’t work was because I didn’t like…” I stopped explaining. Did I want to tell Lily that Bee was too successful for me and I didn’t want her supporting me? Then, what did that say about Lily? Shit. I’d gotten myself into a pickle.
