by Tara Lain
Carefully, one pin at a time, Shaz removed his prickly mouthpiece. “Why are you crying, love?”
He shrugged. Say one word and I’ll cry again.
Shaz sat beside him. “Okay, I seem to remember a moment just like this, but the tears were on my face. Turnabout. Shall I guess?”
Ru nodded.
“Something to do with Gray Anson?”
Another nod.
“Hmm.” He brushed the lock of hair away from Ru’s eyes. “What if I told you that Mr. Anson himself will be here in a few minutes?”
“What?” That brought his head off his knees. “Gray’s coming here? Why?”
“That’s by way of a surprise, darling. But I’d suggest you take something from the closet and doll yourself up. We also need a smashing piece or two from your collection. I’ve called a couple of the girls in.” He pulled a tissue from his pocket and handed it to Ru.
He wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “What’s going on, and what does it have to do with Gray?”
Shaz bounded up. “You better hurry.” He bustled over to Ru’s closet and sorted through the various outfits he kept there in case of a fashion emergency. He pulled out a black pinstripe suit with high-waisted pants and a short jacket. “Here, I love this one on you. Shows off your perfect ass. Get dressed. I have lots to do.” With a flick of the wrist—out the door.
Well, hell. Ru sniffed again. Don’t think. If Shaz told him he needed to get dressed—then he did. He quickly stripped to his boxer briefs, pulled on the suit over a white dress shirt, tucked a bright yellow scarf into the pocket, and gave himself a glance in the floor-length mirror. Fierce! He double snapped—then sniffed.
Down the hall, he barged in on the seamstresses and pulled a tough-chic pants outfit and an evening gown from the completed pieces of the collection. Depending on which models came, he’d show these. He stopped. Maybe these were for Penelope. Her trousseau. With a sigh, he swung the garments over his arm and headed for Shaz’s studio on the other side of the building.
He crossed the lobby and pushed open the door to the back rooms where everyone worked. The place bustled with activity. Clients were being styled and dressed in various parts of the big room. Ru’s two favorite models, Molly and Clarisse, sat at stations in the hair salon, getting their hair styled and makeup done. Shaz primped in the mirror. When he saw Ru, he turned. “Ah great, let me see what you picked.” He took the two garments from Ru and held them up, then called to the models, “Ladies, time to get dressed.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“That would spoil the fun.”
“Not for me.”
Shaz made kissy sounds as he handed the gown to Molly and the pants outfit to Clarisse. “Is Molly too tall for the gown?”
“Yes, switch.”
The girls swapped clothes and headed for the dressing rooms.
Ru stamped his foot. “Dammit, Shaz. Am I going to like this surprise?”
Shaz whirled, his bright red mane flying. “Think, darling. Would I let someone come to Shazam to give my best friend a bad surprise? I don’t care if he’s POTUS, only good surprises happen here.”
Ru grinned. “Okay, I give. I’ll shut up and wait.” He plopped into one of the makeup chairs.
But over the next few minutes, he kept hearing noises coming from the lobby. Every time he walked toward the door to look out, Shaz waylaid him—“Uh, uh, uh”—and waggled his finger. One of the back doors to the studio opened, and in marched the caterer they used for receptions and her staff, carrying platters of hors d’oeuvres and buckets of ice and soft drink bottles. Ru kept looking around, trying to keep up. “What the hell?”
Suddenly the door to the lobby flew open, and in walked a tall blonde woman in a well-tailored trouser suit. She looked around the room, focused on Ru, and made a line straight to him. “Mr. Maitland?”
“Uh, yes.”
“My, you do look wonderful. What a great suit.”
“Thank you.” He must have looked baffled.
“So sorry.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Courtney Preston, Mr. Anson’s publicist.” She pulled out her tablet and checked it. “Most of the press is gathered. Mr. Anson will be here shortly. He’ll speak first, and that seems like a good time to show your designs.” She looked up at the models, who were standing just outside the dressing rooms, looking smashing. “Then I’d like you to say a few words. What this all means to you, yada yada.”
“Wait!” He raised his hand and frowned at her and then at Shaz, who lurked behind her with a stupid grin. “I really have no idea what’s happening, so I’m going to have trouble commenting on it now, aren’t I, darling?”
“What?” She looked at him, saucer-eyed. “What do you mean?”
“No one has told me why the press is here—or even that the press is here. What the hell is happening?”
That deep, famous, ever-so-masculine voice came from the doorway. “Why don’t you come out here and find out.”
Chapter Thirteen
Oh Jesus, doesn’t your heart have to beat to live? Ru gazed at the face of his dreams grinning at him from the door to the lobby.
Courtney took that as her cue to pounce on Gray. “Okay, so here’s what I have outlined.” She held out the tablet as she hurried over to him.
He held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Hey, whatever you’ve got lined up is great with me, you know that.” He gave her a smile that had to endanger the glaciers and held out a hand to Ru. “Come on. Let’s get this party started.”
Ru looked back and forth between Gray and Shaz. “What if I don’t want to come to this party?”
Gray’s face fell.
Shaz slammed two hands against Ru’s back and pushed him toward the door. “Trust me. You do.”
“Okay. Okay.”
Gray smiled again and held the door for him. He walked into the lobby and cameras flashed. There must have been thirty or forty people, some with tablets, some with notebooks, and a few with TV cameras. Outside on the street, Ru could see TV vans lined up at the curb. What the bloody hell?
“Mr. Maitland!”
“Ru, what’s going on?”
How did the press know his name? He half smiled. “I’ll let Gray tell you.”
Somehow, since Ru had last passed through the room, a mic stand had been set up at one end. Gray walked over to it like he did this every day—which he kind of did. “Hi, everyone.” He gave a couple of special waves to reporters he seemed to know. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. I think most of you know that I’m in rehearsals for Hamlet. The show opens in a little over a week, and I hope you’ll all come see me not blow shit up.” Everyone laughed.
“Anyway, one of the most fantastic things about the show is the costuming. I know some of you are fashion editors, and you’re not going to believe the stuff that’s on that stage. I’m no fashion icon, as you know, but even I recognize the amazing originality of these designs. That’s what brought me here—and you here today. The costumes—and they’re really not costumes like you’d think of in most plays, they’re fashions—anyway, they were designed by Rupert Maitland. He’s this great designer who’s putting together his first collection for Fashion Week. What can I say, folks? His designs are what will blow you away in this play—” He shrugged gracefully, like he hadn’t a clue what he was saying. “—so I asked you here to tell you that I’m going into the fashion business.”
Ru tried to close his mouth. Thank God the place exploded with questions and comments so he didn’t have to say anything. Where had Gray come up with this idea?
Gray held up a hand. “Before I answer anything, first let me show you why I got interested.” He swept a hand toward the door to the inner studio, and Molly stalked forward in the pants outfit. Murmurs and a hum of appreciation filled the room. Cameras flashed and whirred. Molly stopped on the other side of the room and struck a pose. Clarisse, a direct opposite to Molly’s powerful beauty, floated in like a butterfly in golden chiff
on, oblivious to her appeal. The room erupted in applause.
Gray laughed. “See, it doesn’t take any fashion knowledge to know this is really unique, and women are going to want to wear it. You all know how I like to invest in sure things, right? So I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Sure Thing himself, Ru Maitland.”
Just say the right things and ask all your questions later. Ru walked up to the microphone, where Gray was adjusting it shorter. Gray stuck out his hand. Okay. Ru took it and shook.
Suddenly Gray laughed and pulled Ru into a one-armed guy hug. The moment outside the building when the drone had captured the two of them flashed in Ru’s mind. So this was an elaborately planned piece of staging to explain that moment when they’d appeared to embrace. Okay. That was fine. It would help Gray, and that’s what mattered. Ru should have been more careful. He turned to the mic. “Hello, everyone. Unlike Gray, I’m not used to speaking to the press.”
“Get used to it, Ru. Where can I buy those clothes?”
The voice belonged to a lady reporter, and Ru grinned. “Thank you. The collection, we hope, will be for sale following Fashion Week in the fall.”
“Having an investor like Gray Anson won’t hurt, I bet.”
“No, it won’t hurt at all.” He looked at Gray. Two can play at this, mister. “Especially since Mr. Anson will not be directing the development of the line. He trusts us with the creative.”
Gray gave him a wink.
One male reporter raised his hand. “Uh, Mr. Maitland, aren’t you the person in the photos that were—uh—”
There it is. Good. Ru raised an eyebrow. “The photos all over the Internet suggesting Mr. Anson is hot for yours truly? Is that what you mean?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Yes, I am the very one. Gray had come to tell me about his desire to invest in my line, and I have a less than macho standard of expression, darling. I was not aware of the fact that Mr. Anson is spied upon from the sky and wouldn’t have thought anything of it if I had. I’ll express my damned enthusiasm any damned way I please. Are we clear?”
The reporter grinned. “Crystal.”
“Good. So I’m very excited about the investment and about the play, which I hope you’ll all attend. Also, be sure to leave your contact information so Shaz and I can invite you to the preview of my line that we’ll unveil in conjunction with the opening of Hamlet. Meanwhile, do get lots of pictures, okay?” He hammed it and glammed it for the cameras. Might as well demonstrate clearly the vast difference between his mincing queenliness and Gray’s macho masculinity.
He walked away from the cameras and press, and Gray took over again, fielding more questions about his upcoming movies. Ru stood to the side. Shaz sneaked up behind him. “Excited?”
Ru glanced back. “Should I be?”
Shaz might be whispering, but his tongue still lashed. “Well, hell, Miss Queen of the Universe, you just got all the money you’ll ever need for your collection with virtually no strings attached. How is that an affront to your magnificence?”
Ru hissed, “He’d do anything to cover those drone stories, even if it costs him a bundle.”
“No, you don’t—”
Some reporter called out, “Hey, Gray, we hear your engagement is splitsville. Is it true?”
Ru froze.
Gray sighed into the mic. “I don’t want to sadden this happy day with bad news, but yes, Penelope and I have decided to part. To tell you the truth, the nature of our relationship was slightly exaggerated by the press stories. We weren’t engaged, and since our plans for the future hadn’t completely aligned, we decided it was best to separate now, before things got more serious. I’m a big admirer of Penelope’s and know some lucky guy is going to be showing me what a loser I am forever for letting her go, but come on, I’m only twenty-five. Not quite ready to settle down. So don’t be pairing me up too quickly, guys. Okay?”
A bunch of hands went up.
Gray shook his head. “No more sad stories. Come have some champagne and look over my fabulous new fashion line.” He laughed. “The fact that it’s all Ru’s creation has nothing to do with it.” He walked away from the mic and got swarmed by reporters.
Ru gripped his hands together to stop the shaking.
Shaz came round in front of him. “Aren’t you ashamed for thinking such bad thoughts about Gray?”
“I-I guess so.”
“You better be. Now get over there and show off your clothes that Gray Anson just went to a lot of trouble to make famous.” He laughed and hurried toward the champagne bar, waving his arms. “Make sure we have plenty of glasses ready.”
Ru stared at the packed room and the cluster of reporters around his models. He wanted to go hide in his office and think about this whole thing. Don’t be an idiot. He plastered on his best fierce smile and plunged into the crowd.
One lady fashion reporter stuck a microphone in his face. “Tell us about the theme of your collection, Ru.”
“Interestingly, the invitation to design great fashions for Hamlet came at just the right time. I let the wonderful outrageousness of the designs inform my collection. I hope it will have a fantasy exuberance with a contemporary street edge.”
She pointed at the models. “These two pieces certainly communicate that. The fantasy and the street. Just wonderful. I’ll be looking forward to the entire collection.”
“Be sure to leave an e-mail and we’ll invite you—”
A big, warm hand grasped his back, and Ru shivered from toes to hair follicles. Gray smiled at the reporter. “Courtney’s going to coordinate mailing invitations to our own VIPs, Lilly, so no worries on getting one.”
She turned to mush in front of his eyes. “Thank you, Gray. I’m so thrilled with this union of action and fashion.”
Gray nodded, but his hand didn’t leave Ru’s back. “You put that perfectly. I may just have to quote you.”
Oh damn, the man was good. Ru flashed his teeth. “I hope you’ll also come to the Hamlet performance. You’ll be able to see how the play influences the fashion.”
Lilly handed her mic back to her cameraman. She tapped a fingernail on her cheek. “I’m thinking of a special report that combines the play, the collection, and of course, the actor who ties it all together with his brilliance.”
Sweet Jesus. Can’t breathe. A special report on network television that showcased his designs with Gray Anson? He fought back tears, swallowed hard, and smiled.
Gray’s fingers stroked his back before he dropped his arm. Je-sus. Forget the network report. He’d rather stand here and let Gray play with him. Still, he felt weird. Kind of bought. His dick had no such problem. It was happy to advertise its price tag. He shifted to keep the thing from ruining the line of his suit.
Gray nodded at the reporter. “Sounds wonderful, Lilly. You know we’ll give you full access.” He glanced toward his publicist. “Can I get you talking to Courtney on this idea while I steal Ru away for a minute?”
“Of course, dear. I’m very excited about this, so let’s get it scheduled.”
Gray led Lilly over to the publicist and then came back. Those famous eyes gleamed. “Could I talk to you for a second?”
Ru nodded and words blurted out. “I’d say you just bought and paid for the right to do most anything you want.”
Gray’s forehead creased for an instant, then smoothed again. “Okay, come with me.” Gray led the way through the crowd and stopped beside Chris. “I need to talk with Ru. We’ll be back in a few.”
“Sure thing, boss.” He turned to face the crowd as Gray pulled Ru through the doors that led to what could now officially be called Ru Maitland Designs. People crowded the halls. Gray muttered, “Well, hell.” He nodded and smiled as he kept exploring all the way back to Ru’s office. A couple of cameramen snapped pictures inside.
Ru snorted. “Had I known I was about to be preserved for posterity, I might have been neater.”
The last door led out to the parking lot behind Shazam. Gray g
lanced back at Ru. “Will an alarm go off if I open it?”
“Nope. It’s our secret exit.”
“Good.” He pushed down on the bar and opened the door, pulled Ru into the parking lot, and closed the doors behind them. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a key ring, then pushed a button. A chirp came from the black limo parked under the trees. He opened the back door, grabbed Ru’s arm, and pulled him inside with him. “Close the door.”
“Gray, I—”
“Close the damned door.”
Well, okay. He slammed the car door, closing them into a secret hiding place, barely illuminated through the heavy tinting on the windows. Ru turned toward Gray, who now full-on frowned. “Open your fly and lie back.”
“What? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m going to give you a blowjob. You said I bought the right to do anything I want, and that’s what I want.”
“Fuuuuuck me.” The words came out on a long, slow breath.
“We can do that too, but we’re a little short on time, so a blowjob is more practical.”
“Are you always practical?”
He gazed directly at Ru. “When you’re a gay man in the biggest, deepest closet in the world, you pretty much have to be. So unzip.”
“Hang on. You can’t just—”
“I can’t? I thought you said I could.”
Ru frowned back at him.
“Oh, you mean we might have something to talk about? Maybe I didn’t just spend a ton of money to buy sex from you? Is there a chance of that?” His voice rose—that famous voice that made every word sound like a line from a movie.
“Okay, talk.”
“What are you thinking?”
Ru crossed his arms. “I’m thinking that you’ll do anything to shut down that story that you’re gay, even spend a gazillion dollars to back my collection.”
“Ah. I see. And breaking up with a woman was the best move to prove I like girls?”
“She got too demanding. You had to get away from her.” He shrugged.
“It never crossed your mind that I might have broken up with her—because you wanted me to?”
