by Jody Klaire
“Frosties,” Kate said, trying not to squeak. Embarrassed? Understatement right there. She felt like her entire upper body had gone pink. “No rice milk or he’ll throw it at you.”
Darcy and Susannah both raised their eyebrows.
“Don’t mess with the kid’s food. It’s not worth it.” She wrinkled up her chin and shook her head. “He likes what he likes.”
“I’ll do it.” Susannah cocked her head at Kate. “Your T-shirt is on backward.”
“I know, it’s digging into my windpipe.” She coughed.
Susannah wrinkled up her brow. “I don’t get it…but okay.” She flounced off, and Mikey called out “Susannah-oh!” from down the hall.
Kate flumped back into bed.
“And you’re giving me a hard time about public acknowledgement?” Darcy leaned against the door with that infuriating, knowing smile.
“The public aren’t going to see me naked.” Kate pulled off her T-shirt. “And where are my clothes?”
“In the linen basket.” Darcy smiled wider. “Do you not have one of those in your house?”
“So, you just going to keep me here?” She folded her arms. “How am I supposed to get across the hall?”
“Tempting.” Darcy flicked her gaze up and down her, then pulled a dressing gown from the back of the door. She threw it to her. “But in civilised society, we use a robe.”
Kate got up and wrapped the fluffy dressing gown around herself. She narrowed her eyes and pressed Darcy to the door. “There is nothing about you that is civilised.”
Darcy yanked her into a kiss, shoved her back, and threw her out the door. “Change. We have things to do.”
Kate glared at the door, then waved to Mikey and Susannah laughing at her. She trudged to her room and threw off the robe. Bossy. That’s what she was—bossy.
Chapter 37
The fortnight went by in too much of a haze as every evening they were filming. Kate, Mikey, Susannah, Zoë, and Blanche had Darcy in all manner of outfits, and Zoë dragged them to shops run by people in the community, smaller shops which Darcy had enjoyed browsing around before money became no issue. Some were under new ownership, but a few still had the familiar faces, delighted faces who welcomed them in. Marge had appeased the sponsors by Mikey wearing a jacket with their name in large white letters on the back. He loved it.
Each night, they headed out for Darcy to be educated on women. Zoë had been far too enthusiastic about making Darcy do things like play pool—unnecessary waste of wood, although Mikey enjoyed potting her balls when they got close to the pocket. She also got her to try five-a-side football, or soccer as Zoë called it—Susannah’s idea. She was far too talented, and Mikey had his own cheer. They watched indie films, which confused her—why the odd camera angles? Mikey had booed and thrown his popcorn at one point. She read lesbian romance books, which made her roll her eyes—she didn’t do slushy rubbish—and Kate laughed at her for picking holes in the sex scenes. And, yes, they’d made her wear something rainbow coloured—that many colours in one outfit? It made little fashion sense, but at least it wasn’t black.
All the while, the crew followed, Marge argued with John about family morals, and Kate seemed to struggle with their distance.
At the apartment, Kate relaxed, and Susannah and Mikey made quite the pair. Mikey had decided he was “a glut-free” and ate everything Susannah did. Susannah had researched everything she could about his brain injury and had taken to trying out techniques to show him things that would help when he couldn’t speak. He’d hugged her every time she tried it. It didn’t help his speech much, but it reached him, and that’s what counted. She must have learned that from Zoë.
Kate had spent every night with her, as if trying to convince her to change her mind. Zoë had done the same. It just made her head swirl with that “fake” feeling until she removed herself from Kate’s arms and went to the gym or did the housework. Sleep had never been something she found easy, but now it was more elusive than ever.
The apartment had never been so shiny. Gladys would be happy. She must be bored looking after the house by herself. Or maybe she wasn’t and had her feet up.
They reached the segment before a break in filming, and everyone, including Blanche and her twig of a bony backside, seemed to be melancholy. They had soared in popularity, much to John’s relief, even though his warning was clear: no scandal or no show. They’d navigated it, but now Kate would have to go back to Cardiff with Mikey, and Darcy couldn’t just show up.
They were eating takeaway from Seren and Jemma’s restaurant around the table in the apartment. Zoë and Blanche were flicking through a new ad campaign Blanche had been offered by a perfume company. Susannah was making her own Sproutwoman costume to help assist Mikey with a spider evacuation from the bath—a toy one—and Kate was curled up on the window seat, gazing at the clear night sky.
“You’re quiet.” Darcy handed her an ice cream and sat down, facing her.
“Yeah. I’m trying to soak it in.” Kate dunked the spoon about in the bowl. “I…I’ve had a good time.”
“Oh, don’t you get melancholy. Zoë does that enough for everyone.” She leaned back against the wall. Zoë poked her tongue out and went back to Blanche.
Kate met her eyes, then sighed and looked away.
“When we’ve finished filming, you can stay here as much as you like.” She leaned over and squeezed Kate’s knee. “I’ve told you that.”
“Yes, but how do I get in here without anyone spotting me?” She fiddled with her ice cream. “How do I explain where I’ve been all weekend?”
“You go to the house, not here…and you use the back door, honey,” Zoë said with a grunt. “FYI, it’s a cheap feeling.”
“You coped with it for long enough,” Darcy snapped. She was sick of everyone talking to her like she cared nothing about their feelings.
“No, I didn’t.” Zoë smiled at Kate. “And Kate shouldn’t have to put up with it.”
“Kate doesn’t have to do anything. The same as you didn’t.” She calmed her tone. Mikey did not need an argument. He was sensitive when people argued. He didn’t say much, but he took a while to come out of his shell afterward. “As I said, Kate is welcome. It’s up to her if she chooses to visit.”
Kate met her eyes, hurt and hope shimmering in them. “Let’s just talk about something else.” She looked up at the sky. “Will Marge let me know when I need to do the reveal?”
Blunt and filled with hurt.
Darcy sighed and pushed off the wall, flexing her calves. “Yes.”
Zoë leaned on her fist. “You’re a complete…” She glanced at Mikey and mouthed “bitch” at her.
“We’ve covered this countless times.” She leaned over and frowned at what the perfume company wanted from Blanche. “Why are they putting you in the background?”
Blanche glared up at her. “Because I have the guts to be myself.”
Yes, the rainbow-community heckling was charming. “No, this girl is not even a name. She’s up against one of the top male models.” Which Blanche knew, but sometimes she needed to be talked to like she was a toddler. “If they don’t want you up front, why not pick a top woman?”
Zoë met her eyes. “That is what I said.”
“You can’t accept that. If you play second fiddle, you’re accepting this girl is a bigger draw than you.” She folded her arms. Was Blanche even more empty-headed than she looked? “Oh, no. You do not share limelight.”
Blanche studied her. “Why would it matter to you?”
“Why? You married Zoë Windermere. You have any idea the level that puts you at? If she rates you, however twig-like you are, that means you’re top level.” She flicked the advert away. “The girl plays background to you. You’re the star.”
Zoë nodded. “Thank you. See, you’d never catch Darcy letting another woman t
ake her position.”
“I never got that position,” Blanche muttered. “I was a stand-in until Zoë spotted me.”
“Yes, but she did spot you over hundreds of other models and she married you.” Darcy shook her finger. “You may not have earned it, but you got it. Do not make Zoë look bad.”
Blanche looked to Zoë and frowned. “Make you look bad?”
“You’re my wife, honey. If you go taking second light, it looks like my credibility isn’t worth the draw.” Zoë kissed her on the cheek. “But if it makes you happy, I’ll deal with it.”
Blanche shook her head. “You won’t.” She looked to Darcy. “How do I fix it?” And she looked so much more innocent, so naïve. It was hard to grate when the girl was asking for help.
“You tell the company that you will take the lead spot, the girl takes the secondary spot, and you’ll expect double the fee for the insult.” She smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder. “If they don’t bite, let them find someone as big as you. You’ll find a more deserving product, preferably a rival one.”
Zoë grinned. “And that’s when the…” She glanced at Mikey who dragged Susannah, dressed in green, to the bathroom. “That’s when you need the bitch to come out.”
Darcy winked and strolled to the kitchen. Her phone went off, and she picked it up. “Gorgeous and intelligent, how may I help?”
“Take a look at your phone, bitch,” Marshall spat in a smug tone. “The pictures show you’re nothing but a fake.” He hung up.
She looked down at her phone: Kate arriving at her house, Darcy pulling her in, Kate leaving her house in the morning. Oh, shit. He must have hired someone. He must have.
“What is it?” Zoë was up and striding over. “Darcy?”
“Marshall.” She held out her phone and leaned on the counter, trying to calm her wobbling legs. “He’s making a counterattack.”
Zoë looked from her to Kate and held up her hand. “I’ll get on it. We’ll call the lawyers. We can stop them. Maybe.” She pulled out her phone and hurried into the bedroom. Blanche hurried after her.
Kate frowned, walked over, and picked up the phone. “Shit.” She closed her eyes. “Marshall followed me?”
“He wouldn’t know what to do with a camera. He must have paid someone.” Darcy met her eyes. “Shit, indeed.”
Chapter 38
Zoë and Darcy battled all night to get the pictures stopped, but the paper had been printed and shipped to outlets. People having the “right to know” won out, and Kate couldn’t do a thing to help. She just had to watch on as everyone else tried different avenues. None of it worked. They’d called Marge to tell her, she’d called John, and he’d promptly cancelled any remaining contract with them. He did agree to air the reveal, but that was it.
All the while, Darcy sat at the dining table, sketching something. Zoë hurled abuse into her phone. Blanche made hot drinks. Susannah and Mikey were thankfully unaware and asleep, and Kate… She felt like an intruder again.
Zoë rubbed at her weary eyes and took another cup from Blanche. Her smile was an exhausted one, but with what Kate knew of her, she was not going to give up yet. “Thanks, honey. Why don’t you try and rest?”
Blanche frowned. “I can’t rest while you’re stressed out. Besides, I’m on the right time schedule for once.”
Ah, California time, then. Zoë squeezed her hand, then picked up her phone again. “I’ll try the editor.”
Darcy held up her hand. “Leave it.” She met Zoë’s eyes. “It means a lot you tried, but the papers are on the stands, and the public are getting up for work. I’d rather you two get out of the crosshairs.” She got up from her seat and flexed her calves. “Please take Susannah, Kate, and Mikey with you.”
Zoë nodded. “You want us to pull Susannah from the country for a while?”
Darcy smiled, a tired smile. “If she’d go, I’d say yes.” She met Kate’s eyes. “I’m very sorry you’ve been drawn into this. If you want to take your family to my home on Lake Garda and stay there for a while, I will arrange everything.”
And she was being talked to like a TV-show contestant. “We don’t need to run anywhere. Didn’t you say yourself that bullies suck? That we should embrace being unique?”
Darcy smiled. “These bullies are harder to ignore.”
“Then let me say something. I’ll tell them that you didn’t do anything wrong.” She stood up, irritation starting to bubble over. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why do I feel like I’ve committed a crime?” Darcy met her eyes, cold, detached. “Why have I just lost everything I worked for?”
“Because…” She growled. “Because you are letting him win.” She slammed her chair in and went to her, holding her by the shoulders. “Marshall is an idiot.”
“And I damaged his career.” Darcy smiled at her, but it was a polished one, a fake one. “So he’s just flattened mine.”
“I’m gonna knock his teeth out,” Zoë snapped and slammed back her cup. “I swear I’ll knock his teeth clean out of his big mouth.” She strode off down the corridor, Blanche following on.
“Then I’ll say I came onto you or something…” Sounded pathetic. The pictures showed it was mutual. There was no doubt it was mutual.
“Kate, you are very sweet, but you need to get Mikey away from the glare.” Darcy stroked her cheek and leaned in, kissing her, soft and fleeting. “You have to protect him now. Being anywhere near me for a good while is not safe.” She studied her, then sighed. “Kate, if you think those insults and jostling for pictures was bad, now every camera will want a snapshot of me, will want to get an answer from me.”
“Then you need a security guard.” She kissed Darcy’s lips, desperate to rouse her irritation, or anything other than the defeated tone. “Let me back you up.”
“No.” Darcy sighed. “I don’t like being gay, and you’re about to see why. Protect Mikey.” She turned and strolled down the hall. “The best thing you can do for me is go home.”
“That’s it?” Kate winced as her voice bounced off the space. Mikey and Susannah were mumbling. Zoë and Blanche must be waking them. “That’s all I’m worth?”
At the door to her bedroom, Darcy turned and smiled. “It’s the measure of how much you’re worth. I’m protecting you.” She went into her room and shut the door.
Mikey charged out of his room with a grin. “We fly early, Kate-oh!”
“Yep.” She hoisted him up and cuddled him, hoping she was holding the tears back, but by the soaking her cheeks were getting, she doubted it.
“What about Mum?” Susannah muttered as Zoë led her out of her room. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
Zoë and Blanche exchanged a glance.
Kate growled. “Marshall,” she spat. She was sick of everyone tiptoeing around. “They’ve posted pictures. He outed her.”
Susannah shook her head. “Then I’ll stay with her.”
Zoë glared at Kate, then ushered Susannah along the hall. “This is where I gotta step up the mom thing. I agree with Darcy; you gotta split. We’re heading to the house in Hampshire. Not far.” She held Susannah’s gaze. “Just trust that we know what we’re doing, yeah?”
Susannah held her gaze. She backed up and hurried into Darcy’s room.
Zoë rolled her eyes. “This is why we zipped it.” She hurried in after her.
“I feel as out of this as you do,” Blanche said, dragging suitcases to the door. “They’ve lived with this for longer, though.”
Kate cuddled Mikey, who snuggled in, already snoring in between murmurs. “Yeah, but the difference is she cares about you enough to let you help.”
Blanche laughed. “You think so?” She glared back down the hall. “My dad is one of the best lawyers in the United States, he has close friendships with a lot of people over here, including judges.” She turned
and pulled the coats from the hook. “He’d have stopped it with one phone call from me.”
Kate stared at her. “So why didn’t they ask you?”
“Because Zoë felt that would be underhanded, and it would backfire on him. It’s happened before. Even if they block the story here, it’ll be published in another country and filter back in. Dad would get a lot of shit from it.” She shrugged with a helpless sigh. “If I wasn’t married to her right now, she’d send me away too.”
Zoë headed out of the bedroom with a sobbing Susannah and furrowed her brow. “I heard that.”
“Good,” Blanche muttered. “Because I’m done playing second fiddle.” She smiled at Kate, walked over, and kissed her on the cheek. “Give me your phone.”
Kate handed it over, around Mikey. “Why?”
“They will cut you out.” She tapped in a number and saved it. “I’m not going to. I will keep you as updated as I can.”
“Honey,” Zoë warned.
“If you want me to keep the ring on, you quit playing me like I’m a child.” She kissed Kate on the cheek again and picked up the suitcases. “I called the driver.”
Zoë blinked a few times. Hmm, wasn’t expecting the backchat from her wife, huh? “I don’t treat you like a child,” she muttered, opening the door and shoving everyone out. Kate tried to turn, but Zoë pulled her harder. “Kate, just move.”
Kate stomped out and pulled her case. “We’ll call a cab and hire a car to go home.”
Zoë frowned at her as she shoved everyone down the stairs. “Don’t be dumb.”
“Dumb?” She pivoted at the bottom. “I just got dumped and told to run back to where I came from, and I didn’t miss the ‘try and shut up’ either.” She grabbed her and Mikey’s cases. “I think I’ve had enough of being talked to like I’m a child.”
Blanche nodded. “What she said.”
“And, unlike Blanche, who must love you a shitload to put up with this crap, I’m not going to.” She took the cases and went to Susannah, squeezing her. “If you ever want to come see Mikey, you just call, okay? We love you.”
