by T. J. Klune
“I just didn’t like him,” I settled on. “No real reason. He just rubbed me the wrong way. It’s one of those things. You know how it goes.”
“What changed?”
“I guess I saw him differently than he was before.”
“That’s kind of romantic, if you think about it.”
“And that’s why I don’t think about it.”
“Shut up, I know you love it.”
“You’re a liar and a fat mouth.”
“Besides, you wouldn’t want him to be by himself again, would you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Last year. Thanksgiving. His mom was out of town with friends and Vince was over with us at Mom and Dad’s.”
And that didn’t sit right with me. “Why didn’t anyone invite him?”
“You didn’t like him.”
And that… well. That was pretty much true. And I felt like the world’s most gaping asshole. “Things change” was all I could think to say.
“So, it’s fine that he’s coming?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. If you’re going to be having your afternoon delight, I’ll take Corey out with me, then.”
I gave Paul a kiss kiss through the phone, so he must have known I was more Helena than Sandy. He didn’t question it, but then he never really did. For all he knew, Darren had a Helena kink and we were getting ready to spend an afternoon exploring said kink completely and fully. (And as soon as that thought entered my head, it took a long while for it to leave. Eventually, though, I was able to push it away. It’s painful to try and get an erection when your dick is taped back.)
I decided on the Chanel Rouge Allure Velvet lipstick, a deep red that didn’t smear or flake easily. It was a tinge that said I was flirty and sexy, but that I could also fist you if you tried to fuck with me. Of course, I would never say that to the Honorable Andrew Taylor. But if he thought that this lunch was going to be his chance to berate his son’s choices or give him any grief whatsoever, he was going to be sorely mistaken. I didn’t know when or why I’d decided to become protective over Darren.
Darren was a… perfectly acceptable human being. Whose father had decided his son (both his sons) weren’t worthy of his time because of who they were or the choices they’d made. I’d never understood how someone can bring a child into this world and not love them for the rest of their lives, regardless if they were gay or straight or transgendered or any other thing that might set them apart. If you couldn’t love your child no matter who they grew up to be, then you probably shouldn’t have become a parent in the first place.
So, no. I wasn’t going to let Andrew Taylor fuck with Darren.
I was Helena Handbasket now.
And I didn’t take shit from anyone.
I slid my feet into the black pumps, my legs freshly shaved. I smoothed out the knee-length black skirt as I stood, running my finger along the sensible slit on the left thigh. I wore a crisp white collared button-down, the cuffs on the sleeves oversized and hanging over the backs of my hands. The blouse was tight around my middle, accentuating the curves of my body and the padded bra I wore. Paul had always said I was made to be a drag queen because the width of my hips was one of my best features. I left a button or two open at the top, but had the stiff collar pulled around my neck to add to the effect the contouring makeup had to lessen my Adam’s apple.
The rest of my makeup—aside from the lipstick—was minimal and as bare as possible. The black wig I wore was shoulder length and styled to curve around my face. I picked up a large pair of sunglasses and put them on.
A star had been born. I looked like I belonged at a place like Ventana Canyon. That it was the norm for me. A weekend thing. A lunch with the ladies before shopping at Coach or Gucci.
Darren Mayne had said I wasn’t a hot chick.
He was wrong.
I leaned over and carefully kissed my reflection, leaving the smallest imprint of my lips on the glass.
“Let’s begin,” I said, smiling to myself.
Then I turned and took two steps before accidentally walking into a wall because one should never wear sunglasses indoors unless one was a douchebag. “Motherfucking balls of shit,” I snarled in a very unladylike fashion as I rubbed my knee. “That fucking cock bag bitch whore.”
Once the pain subsided, I stood back up, ready to be a lady of leisure again. “Much better,” I said with a breathy sigh.
Of course, I took off the sunglasses before I left the room.
And it was only ten minutes later that Darren stood on the other side of the front door, gaping at me as I rested a hand against the doorway, totally posing, but not letting him know I was posing.
“Bae,” I purred. “How lovely it is to see you again.”
He swallowed thickly, eyes darting up and down, the tiniest of flushes crawling along his throat. “Helena,” he finally said, because he knew who he was dealing with. It was one of the reasons I enjoyed him. Well, some of the time. “You look beautiful.”
“Like a hot chick?” I asked, running a fake French-manicured nail along my bottom lip, his eyes dilating and following it.
“Uh,” he said. “Yeah. Um.” He coughed and shook his head. “Yes. Of course. Like. A hot chick. And stuff.”
“Ah,” I said. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
And he didn’t. He wore light gray slacks too cut to be anything but tailored specifically for him and a blue dress shirt that clung to his biceps, the sleeves rolled up over thick forearms. I was amused and given a little rush when I saw that I was an inch or so taller than him now that I wore these heels and we were face to face. There was something about him having to look up at me to meet my eyes that caused my blood to rush. He wasn’t subservient, but Helena didn’t care about that because she could imagine he was. He looked delectable and if this were any other day and we were any other people, I would be more than willing to test just how flake-resistant my lipstick was.
But we were Helena and Darren. There was nothing to test.
“Are you ready to go, baby doll?” I asked, my voice Helena deep, each word carrying a weight to it that could spiral out to a dozen of different connotations. I realized then and only then that this was probably the first time I’d gone out in public as Helena without it being drag-related, either for a show or an event of some kind. This was Helena being allowed out in a public setting where her more… flamboyant mannerisms were probably not going to be as welcome as they normally were.
Sandy thought that maybe this might be a very bad idea.
Helena didn’t give two shits and was chomping at the bit to take control.
I grinned as Darren flushed again.
This was going to be fun.
WE PULLED up to the valet at the entrance to the country club. A handsome kid in khakis and white polo opened the passenger door to Darren’s SUV, extending a hand out to me, helping me out of the vehicle. I almost wanted to bat his hand away because honestly, but I figured this was how rich broads did it, so I went with it. I took his hand in my own and he pulled me gently from the vehicle, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on my legs before his attention snapped back up to my face.
“Ma’am,” he said, and I wanted to devour him, he was just so precious.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” I squeezed his hand before letting it fall. The boy blushed and nodded, running around to the other side of the car to take the keys from Darren.
I took my sunglasses off and placed them in the faux-Louis Vuitton purse I carried (and it was an excellent knockoff, if one didn’t look too closely and see the brand name of Luis Valdez, bought from some thrift store ages ago). Darren came around the back of the SUV looking like he just stopped in for a bit of lunch after spending the morning yachting, windswept and tanned skin, smile slightly rakish with a hint of teeth. He was nervous, though, and I was surprised to find out I knew him well enough to see that. It was in the tightness around his eyes, the set of his jaw. A wave
of fondness that I could do nothing to stop rolled over me, and I was once again struck by the need to protect him from his father.
He held out his elbow to me and I wrapped my hand through it, fingers gripping his arm lightly. He smiled at me, slightly strained but he was trying.
“We don’t have to do this,” I murmured, the words just for him. “We could say fuck him and leave right now.”
“What about the bar?” he asked.
I shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. We always do. It’s not as important as—”
He shook his head. “We’re here. We might as well.”
“Can I tell him I didn’t vote for him?”
And there was the smile I wanted to see. “Always causing trouble.”
“It’s what I live for.”
He led me into the club, the automated doors sliding open, artificial air rolling over me, my heels clacking against expensive tile. The club itself was expansive, multiple buildings stretched over acres. We were at the restaurant, wide windows stretched along either side, bright sunlight filtering in, the grass of the surrounding golf course a luscious green. The hostess smiled at us as we approached. Before we reached her, I whispered in Darren’s ear, “I make no promises that if I see someone famous, I won’t freak out and demand they sign my fake tits.”
He stumbled a little bit, coughing harshly. I smiled at the hostess as she frowned in concern. “Is everything okay?” she asked.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Sometimes he has trouble walking and talking at the same time. You know how men can be. Always thinking with one head and not the other. Isn’t that right, bae.”
The hostess giggled as Darren glared at me. “Yes, dear.”
“Do you have reservations?” she asked.
“Andrew Taylor is expecting us,” Darren said.
“That sounds ominous,” I said. “Don’t scare the girl, bae.” I looked back at the hostess. “We’re here to have lunch with the mayor. He’s thinking about investing in my company. We sell mayonnaise. Old Slovak recipe from my baba. Very top secret hush-hush. You won’t tell a soul, will you, pretty?”
Her eyes were wide and she shook her head as Darren groaned next to me. “I’ll keep it to myself,” she said. “And if I may, you have to be the tallest woman I’ve ever seen. It’s quite confounding.”
“It’s the mayonnaise,” I said. “We put it on everything. Corn. Pancakes. Apples. Everything.”
“This day will end in tears,” Darren said with a sigh. “Most likely my own.”
“Of course not. Helena’s going to take good care of you.” I leaned in and brushed my lips against his cheek. I felt him shudder.
Helena liked that very much and wanted to lick him.
“Isn’t he just precious,” I asked our new friend as I pulled away.
“You make a very striking couple,” the hostess said.
“Imagine what our children will look like,” I said, just to fuck with Darren. “I think I’d take to pregnancy very well, don’t you?”
“Oh dear god,” he muttered. Then, louder, “Why don’t we just focus on the moment at hand before we knock you up?”
“Such a gentleman,” I told the hostess. “Wants to wine and dine me before impregnation.”
The hostess nodded. “Such a sweet thing to do. If you’ll follow me, Mayor Taylor is already here. I’ll show you to your table.”
I’d hoped we would have arrived before him. When going into battle, it’s always better to have the lay of the land memorized before meeting an enemy face to face. It would have given us the upper hand and made it feel like Taylor was encroaching into our territory. Instead, we’d arrived after him, letting him choose where to sit and how to act.
That was okay, though. The opening salvo had been fired, but it was just a glancing blow. I would come in with a sneak attack rather than guns blazing. He wouldn’t even see me coming.
The hostess led us toward the bank of windows on the far side of the restaurant. The tables on this side were empty, and I thought it was probably done on purpose, to give us (specifically the mayor) some privacy for this luncheon. I didn’t know if it was good or bad that there wouldn’t be any witnesses. This, of course, led me down the line of thinking that what if Taylor despised me and decided to have me bumped off? I didn’t quite have a grasp on the inner workings of the city government, but I assumed that a mayor would be in the position to dispatch hitmen if needed to spill the blood of his enemies.
I might have had an overactive imagination fueled by way too many thrillers on Lifetime (thrillers being the operative word, of course).
Andrew Taylor stood as we approached. Even though he was in his midsixties, he was still unfairly gorgeous and fit. It was easy to see where Vince and Darren had gotten their coloring and good looks from. And if Taylor was any consideration, then Darren was going to be hot even as an old man, which should not have given me the tiniest of thrills it did. (And I also can admit to having the horrifying thought of At least I made the right choice with this one if that’s what he’ll look like when we’re older before I remembered what this truly was and vowed to never think such things again.)
He wore a dark tailored suit that looked like this year’s Marc Jacobs. His tie was silk and his shoes Italian and there was nary a hair out of place. His eyes were on me, cool and assessing, and I felt my hackles rise. He was judging me at first sight, like he had any place to say whether or not I was good enough for his son. I don’t know what he found at the end of his assessment, what determination was made about me in all of three seconds, but he smiled that wide, toothy politician’s smile.
“Darren,” he said. “It’s good to see you.” He held out his hand.
“Dad,” Darren said stiffly before shaking his hand. It was a perfunctory action, holding no warmth from either one of them. One would have thought they were business associates rather than father and son. Maybe it was because I had been adopted into a family that loved me no matter what that I didn’t quite understand how a father could act toward his son in such a way. Sure, Darren was a product of an affair and it was all kept hush-hush secret, but Taylor’s actions had brought life into the world. Why in God’s name did he never act like that wasn’t the greatest gift he’d been given?
“And who is this enchanting young lady?” Taylor asked, turning his eyes to me. I held out my hand to him. He gripped my fingers lightly and brought the back of my hand to his lips, scraping a kiss against my skin. It made my skin crawl, but I smiled at him. I knew there really wasn’t any chance of him recognizing me from the funeral as I hadn’t even been on his radar, but it was still a relief to know I could fool him so completely.
“This is my girlfriend,” Darren said. “Helena.”
“Mayor Taylor,” I said as I pulled my hand away. “How lovely it is to meet you. Darren’s told me so much about you.”
“Has he?” Taylor said, eyes darting toward his son before coming back to me. “All of it good, I hope.”
That was certainly laughable. Even without Darren and Vince, I’d heard nothing about him that indicated he was even remotely close to being a decent human being. And from the news and my very own limited interaction, there appeared to be nothing to endear him to anyone who wasn’t a douchebag.
But he didn’t know I knew that. For all he knew, I was a bright-eyed young lady enamored of a boy and meeting his father for the first time. That’s all this was to him.
“Mostly good,” I said, my voice slightly teasing. “But I don’t suppose anyone could be all good, could they? Why, that would just be boring.”
Taylor chuckled. “You’re speaking to someone in public office, Helena. My reputation is sterling, boring though it may be.”
Bullshit.
“Shall we?” Taylor said, waving a hand toward the table.
I murmured my thanks as Darren pulled out my chair for me. His big hands squeezed my shoulders once before he sat down next to me. I set my purse on the floor between us and smiled at Darre
n, who looked like he wished he could be anywhere but where he was. I reached under the table and folded my hand in his. He looked surprised but didn’t pull away. In fact, he seemed almost grateful for the contact.
“It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to you,” Taylor said to Darren.
Darren shrugged. “I’ve been busy. You know how it is. Work takes up a lot of my time.”
He nodded. “Unfortunately I do. It seems I never leave the office these days. But surely you haven’t been that busy. After all, you’ve found time to meet this young lady.” He glanced over at me with a small smile. “I must admit to being a little surprised to hear it.”
“Really?” I said. “And why is that?”
“I’ve never heard of Darren being serious about anyone before,” Taylor said, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “Never really heard him talk about a specific girl. Figured he was busy sowing his oats and living the bachelor life.”
I laughed. “Oh, I’m sure he was. All those coeds, am I right?” I winked at Taylor. “Maybe we just found each other at the right time. When we needed each other the most.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Darren watching me, a strange look on his face that I couldn’t quite place.
“Well,” Taylor said. “That’s wonderful. Tell me about yourself, Helena. Where are you from?”
“Tucson born and raised,” I said, nodding toward the waitress as glasses of cucumber ice water were placed before us. “Lived here all my life. Parents did too.”
“That so?” Taylor said. “Long history, then. Probably voted in many elections. Helped Tucson become what it is. They’re registered, right?”
“Independents,” I said sweetly.
Taylor didn’t even hide the face he made at that. “Independents. Well, give them five minutes alone with me and I’m sure I could change their minds.” And that politician’s smile came back as Darren frowned. Taylor could be charming, I’m sure, but he really was barking up the wrong tree. Especially since this tree had a cock and was wearing a skirt.
