“I’d love to.” Shyla studied herself in the mirror, shocked at the reflection peering back. “Thanks, Elaine. This was really nice of you.” She was almost sad their afternoon of bonding was at an end.
“No problem, just call me your personal fairy god-sister.”
“You mean fairy godmother.”
“Shyla, we’re the same age. I ain’t no one’s mama.”
Shyla laughed at the joke, which kick-started a flurry of butterflies in her belly. The nerves mingled and flirted with her excitement at the thought of being on Nick’s arm. Elaine frowned as she peered down at her phone. “I would stay and wait with you, but Greg and I are going to the movies.”
“It’s okay. Nick will be here any minute.” She embraced Elaine.
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“He is. I’m very lucky.”
“So is he.” She held Shyla back and smiled in approval. “You look hot.”
“It’s because of you. You didn’t bring sexy back. You made it happen.”
“I had a great canvas to work with.”
Chapter 27
Nick watched as she walked down the steps of her building, mentally making a note to send the salesgirl at Saks a thank-you card. Shyla always looked beautiful, but tonight she glowed.
“Good evening, Goddess,” he said, bowing slightly.
“I take it you like it?”
“Very much,” he responded, a man lost in the trance of a beautiful woman.
“Thank—” Before she could finish the sentence, her footing faltered, and she tumbled.
He moved swiftly, catching her in his arms. “Are you okay?”
“That has to be the most ungraceful entrance ever.”
He chuckled, helping her up. “It was perfect. C’mon my lady, our chariot waits.”
She gasped. “You got a limo?”
“I wanted to make this as special as possible.”
The driver held open the door for her. As soon as they were seated, Nick pulled her onto his lap. “You know the best part of having a limo?”
“What?”
“This,” he said, pushing a button. A screen moved up between them and the driver. “Sweet privacy.”
She frowned, taking in his tuxedo.
“What’s wrong?”
“I got make-up on you,” she said, pointing to a spot where the crisp white shirt gave way to a crimson matching her lipstick.
“I’m sure a little club soda will take care of it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be coy with me. I’m on to your little game.”
“What game?”
“You wanted to mark me, didn’t you?”
“Very funny. Although, you do look ravishing in this tux.”
“Ravishing?”
“Yes, too bad we can’t have sex just yet.”
“Why?” He almost laughed at his own disappointment.
She adjusted his tie. “Because I’ve already ruined your shirt. If I fully unleash my desires, you’ll be showing up in rags.”
He chuckled. “I love it when you’re naughty.”
* * * *
Shyla sucked in a deep breath, wondering if she had stepped into a fairy tale. The ballroom at the hotel was breathtaking. The black and white marble floors gleamed against the pale blue walls with their intricate moldings. White, twinkling lights roped around tables decorated with tulle, each with a centerpiece of pink roses. A ten-piece band played a modern rock song. Waiters with white-gloved hands carried trays full of bubbling champagne and intricate hors d’oeuvre.
Nick led Shyla toward two beautiful women, one taller with red hair in an elegant up-do, and the other shorter with dark hair and tan skin in a glittering purple dress. “Shyla, this is my agent and friend, Carrie. And this is her wife, Tara. Ladies, this is my girlfriend, Shyla.”
Shyla bit back her nerves, unprepared to meet them. Her handshake was weak and shaken, but neither woman seemed to notice. Nick kissed each of them on the cheek.
“What? I’m not your friend, Nick?” Tara joked, punching Nick’s arm.
“I heard you were still mad at me, so I wasn’t sure what the appropriate description might be in this case.”
Tara smacked him on the chest playfully. “As it turns out, I don’t mind dogs as much as I thought.”
“Thank God. How’s Maya?”
Tara frowned. “She seems to be enjoying the flute. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“Sorry,” Nick said, a boyish smile on his face.
“At least he didn’t get her the drums,” Carrie offered.
Nick rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The drums… Now there’s an idea.”
“Nick!” they both said in unison.
Shyla laughed along, trying to swallow back her nerves.
“I have to go use the restroom,” Nick said, pointing to his shirt.
“Probably a good idea,” Tara said. She plucked Nick’s shirt, staring at the stain there. “I would say you fell into some Estee Lauder Mocha Rose Pink. A very nice shade, although I don’t think it’s your color, babe.” She turned to Shyla. “Am I right?”
“I think so. How did you know?”
“Tara’s a makeup artist. She does Broadway shows and movies,” Carrie explained, looking at the other woman with pride.
“Can you keep Shyla company?” Nick asked them.
“Actually, after you get cleaned up, I think we should talk to a few people about the return of Max Montero,” Carrie said.
“Seriously?”
“Just a few minutes. It’s a good networking opportunity. Do you mind if I borrow him?” Carrie asked apologetically.
“Not at all,” Shyla replied.
“I’ll keep Shyla company,” Tara offered. “After all, us Indian girls have to stick together. Love your dress by the way,” she said, taking Shyla’s arm and leading her farther into the ballroom.
“I think I need a touch up, too,” Shyla said.
Tara showed her to the washroom. Amazingly, the woman had every kind of vial and tube in her purse to put Shyla back together again.
“I swear you’re a doppelganger for Katrina Kaif,” Tara said while powdering her face.
Shyla struggled not to snort at the comparison to the beautiful Bollywood actress. “Thank you.”
Tara brushed a little blush on Shyla’s cheeks. “With these high cheekbones and pretty lips, I bet you could get work in Bollywood.”
“It’s never been a goal of mine. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.”
Tara smiled, nodding her head in encouragement. “Wonderful. The world needs teachers. We all have so much to learn.”
Shyla, glad to have an opportunity to bond with the woman who seemed so cosmopolitan yet down to earth, returned the smile.
Tara grabbed two flutes of champagne as they made their way to their table. “Nick gives very generously to this charity so there’s usually a ton of people who want his time.”
Taking the seat next to Tara, she sipped the champagne, hoping the liquid courage would work quickly.
“I didn’t know that,” Shyla said, watching as Nick shook hands and traded smiles with other guests. He looked so handsome in his black, fitted tux with his mane of sandy brown hair neatly brushed back. Shyla couldn’t wait until she could mess it all up again.
Nick was extremely charming, and tonight he looked truly happy. Shyla was proud of him, although she felt a twinge of jealousy when woman approached him and had no shame in pressing their bodies against his. Although, to Nick’s credit, he did back away, maintaining a polite distance each time. Most people were still standing, conversing with each other. Tara had explained it was the cocktail hour, a time for people to meet and greet.
“I didn’t think to ask him, but should I call him Keegan while we’re here?” Shyla asked.
Tara laughed. “No, everyone here knows who he is. I suppose if a reader really wanted the information, they could find out Keegan Moon is Nick Dorsey,
too.”
“Oh, good. I don’t think I would remember.”
Tara laughed. “Yeah, he looks like a Nick.”
Shyla wasn’t sure he resembled any other man she’d met, but she nodded along. “Were you born here?” she asked Tara.
“Yes, in Long Island actually.”
“First generation?”
“No, my grandparents came here in the late sixties. We’re originally from Mumbai.”
“I’ve been there. It’s huge,” Shyla said.
“My extended family lives there. I’ve visited a few times. Carrie and I plan to take our daughter, Maya, when she’s older.”
“Is it difficult being in a mixed relationship for you?”
Tara shrugged. “We’ve had so many difficulties it’s hard to narrow down. I kind of went for the trifecta of a hard life.” She winked at Shyla. “After all, I’m a woman, a lesbian, and a cultural anomaly.”
“But those things weren’t your choice.”
Tara nodded. “I like you. You’re refreshing in a caffeine-free kind of way.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Definitely. You’re right. It wasn’t my choice, but I do choose to live freely now, and not to sound cliché, but truth has consequences.”
“Did your parents accept you?” Shyla immediately regretted the question. “I’m sorry. It’s inappropriate of me to ask you something so private.”
“It’s okay, sister, you can ask whatever you want. After all, aren’t all Indians family?” Tara’s words instantly put Shyla at ease. “I realized I was a lesbian at a young age. My mother tried convincing me I wasn’t. She said lesbians don’t like lipstick and dressing up. My mother’s great debate worked for a while. Believe it or not, I even did the whole arranged marriage thing.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I was just living a lie. I divorced him a few years into our marriage.”
“Does he see Maya?”
“He died when she was one.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Actually, he didn’t die. He’s just dead to me. He revoked his parental rights when I told him I was gay. He actually believed I’d pass the trait onto our daughter, like an airborne illness.”
“That’s awful.”
“I still think it had more to do with not wanting to pay child support than anything else, but I’m glad he’s not in her life. Maya doesn’t need poisonous thoughts around her. I met Carrie in college, and we loved each other then, but neither of us could admit it. We rekindled our relationship a year after my divorce. She adopted Maya legally, and I sort of adopted Nick figuratively. I’m still arguing I got shorted in the deal.”
Tara’s forthrightness was unexpected, but Shyla found herself hanging onto every word. “Do you have pictures of your daughter?”
Tara immediately pulled out her phone. Tara, in fact, had entire albums dedicated to Maya. Shyla listened intently while she narrated the settings of the photos and told her funny stories about the gorgeous little girl.
“Have your parents accepted your marriage?” Shyla asked.
“It’s taken a long time, but they recognize who I am now. They love Carrie, too. They see how happy we are and how strong our family is. They even had a wedding reception for us. It’s interesting how my strict Indian parents have accepted us, whereas her parents have not. I think it goes to show you can never really judge how a family will react.”
“Why do Carrie’s parents have a hard time with it?”
“Most likely because she didn’t come out for a long time. You see, my parents always knew. They wanted me to hide it, disguise who I was. But when it came down to it, they realized we were all in hiding and no one was happy. Carrie denied her feelings for a long time so her parents didn’t know. And then to come out, tell them she was in love with a Hindu woman who had a child…well, it was just too over the top for them.”
“What happened for her to admit she was gay?”
Tara fanned herself. “It was me, darling. I told her as much as I love closets, I won’t live in one.”
Both women laughed.
Shyla took another sip of the champagne. “A few months ago, I wouldn’t have understood such a concept.”
“What’s that, babe?”
“Falling for someone when you didn’t want to.”
Tara placed her arm around Shyla’s shoulders, turning her head in Nick’s direction. “But now you do because of the handsome guy right there?”
Shucks.
Had she really just revealed her emotions to a stranger? Shyla struggled to avoid the feelings, but the obvious was unavoidable. It seeped through, growing stronger with each moment they spent together. She’d completely fallen for him on every level. Her heart sunk as she crammed the thoughts down. She couldn’t deal with them now.
“Yes.”
“He’s been through a lot. When Carrie first introduced us, I immediately decided I didn’t like him. You see, I knew they’d had a rendezvous, and my jealous nature believed he might be after my woman. I realized their relationship is more sibling rivalry than anything else. He’s been a very good friend to us. Maya calls him Uncle Nick.”
“He says the same about you.” She turned to Tara. “I know about his past.”
“Oh good, no need to skirt around the past. You know, when I found out, I swear I was so shocked my make-up cracked…and that never happens.”
“It is hard to believe.”
“Yes, I’m surprised he told you. At his core, Nick is a very private person. It really says something that he’s been so honest with you.”
Shyla shifted, feeling the ironic weight of the heavy statement. After all, she hadn’t been as forthcoming. She shifted those thoughts to the recesses of her mind as she focused on Tara. “Is it difficult raising a child here?”
“Sure, but the good news is things are changing faster than you can bat an eyelash…even a fake one with too much glue. Plus, we live in a very metropolitan, modern environment. We’re raising our daughter to appreciate both our cultures. Sometimes kids at school make fun of her because of us, but she’s a smart girl, and she has a good heart. She knows her moms love each other and, more importantly, they love her. When you raise a child in truth and love, it becomes easier to ignore the hate.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“I can’t believe how much I’ve just spewed. You’re dangerously easy to talk to. Probably a great trait for a teacher.”
“Or maybe I’m just nosy. Thank you for sharing so much with me.”
“Of course, but enough about me. Tell me your story.”
“What story?” Shyla asked, suddenly nervous.
“How did you and Nick meet? In all the years I’ve known him, would you believe I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend? I’m curious.”
“I was his sandwich delivery girl.”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m sure you’re much more than that.”
“We started dating about a year after I began delivering to his house. We’re working on a book together. Just an idea I had. He’s been very generous in helping me.”
“Sounds interesting. Does Carrie know?”
“No, but I hope you’ll both read it when it’s finished. Nick says it’s a bit unrealistic, but I think if you give it a chance, it’ll make sense. I would really love for you to read it.”
“I look forward to it. What’s it about?”
“Just a girl growing up in rural India and her life.”
Tara’s eyes widened. “Sounds like the kind of book I’d like to read, but definitely not one I’d expect Nick to write.”
“He’s doing it as a favor to me.”
“Well, hurry up and finish it so we can read it.”
A high-pitched laugh interrupted them, piercing through their conversation. “Hello, Tara,” a tall redhead in a sparkly silver dress said, taking the seat next to them. A shorter dark-haired man sat with her. “We’re at the same table.”
“Wonderful,” Tar
a muttered. “Karma, this is Shyla.”
“Nice to meet you,” Karma said, extending her hand in such a way that Shyla wasn’t sure if she wanted a kiss on the back or a handshake. She shook it awkwardly.
“This is my date, Steven,” Karma said, gesturing to the man.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Shyla greeted, shaking his hand.
She turned to the woman. “Your name is Karma?”
“Her real name is Carla, but she didn’t get callbacks as often,” Tara said.
“You’re an actress?” Shyla asked.
Her smile appeared more sinister than friendly. “You don’t recognize me? I’m on a fairly popular television show. Tara used to be our makeup artist until we decided to go in a different direction.”
“You mean when the show got cancelled, right?” Tara asked.
Karma narrowed her eyes, obviously unhappy Tara provided that tidbit of information. “So are you both dateless tonight?” Karma asked.
Tara sighed. “Sweetheart, we are about as dateless as you are tactful.”
Karma raised her eyebrows as if she was contemplating whether the remark was meant as an insult. Shyla muffled her laugh.
“You know Carrie is my wife,” Tara said.
Karma snapped her fingers. “Right, I always seem to forget you prefer carpet over wood.”
Tara’s smile didn’t falter. “Shyla is Nick’s date.”
Karma choked on her champagne. Luckily, Steven clapped her on the back. “Nick Dorsey?” she asked.
“The very one,” Tara replied.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring a date to this thing. Now, he does usually leave with a girl, but that’s a different thing entirely.”
Shyla shifted, uncomfortable she was being discussed so openly as if she wasn’t there. Not to mention, the girl’s snide remarks about Nick’s sexual habits were disconcerting. It was a fact Shyla had come to grips with, except now coming face to face with it, her grip didn’t seem so sure.
“Looks like he was just waiting for the right girl, Karma,” Tara said, narrowing her eyes at the other woman. “Chin up, darling, everyone is capable of change. For instance, I’ve never seen you without glossy lipstick, but I’m still hoping the day will come.”
Unwanted Girl Page 23
