Musings of a Gossip Queen: A Chick-Lit Comedy

by Victoria Bright

  His place is very spacious and actually well decorated. My eyes scan around the room, admiring the blue, black, and white color schemes of his pillows and curtains before stopping on his leather couch. “Um…Silas?”

  He looks over his shoulder and follows my gaze. “Fake,” he says and then points to the rug on the floor. “But that’s real.”

  I raise an eyebrow at the woven rug. “Real what?”

  “Wool. My grandmother made it for me before she passed, so I find it hard to get rid of,” he says.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. After a few moments of awkward silence, I add, “It’s a nice rug.”

  He looks at it and shrugs. “Eh,” he says.

  “You don’t think it’s nice?”

  “Do you think it’s nice?” he asks with a smirk. I look down at the rug that seems to be unraveling at the ends. It isn’t the prettiest, but there’s something about handmade items that give them a different kind of charm. Besides, as big as it is, I’m sure it took her a while to make it for him.

  “I think it was nice of her to do for you,” I answer.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” he says.

  “It’s…a rug. It’s not my particular style, but it’s okay,” I say, putting Milo down.

  Silas grabs a remote from the glass coffee table and presses the power button, filling the space with relaxing jazz music. Milo jumps up on the couch and sits on the armrest, looking at him with his head cocked to the side.

  “Where should I get dressed?” Taylor asks once she and her team finally make it into the apartment with their stuff.

  “You’re more than welcome to use my bedroom. You guys want anything to drink?” Silas asks, moving toward the kitchen.

  “Water is fine,” I say. “And some for Milo, too. I have his bowl.”

  “How about all of you?” Silas asks Taylor and her two helpers.

  “No, I’m good,” Taylor answers. The man and woman simply shake their head to decline. “Oh, how rude of me. I didn’t even introduce you guys! This is my stylist, Stephanie, and my makeup artist, Jasper. Jasper and Stephanie, this is my neighbor Blake and…um, what’s your name again?”

  “Silas,” he says.

  Taylor snaps her finger as if she’d just remembered on her own. “That’s right. Silas. Well, I’m going to go get ready then. We’ll be losing lighting soon,” she says and skips off toward his bedroom.

  “Water for the lady and pup coming up,” he finally says and disappears. I continue walking around the room to scope out the place. He was definitely right about the lighting here. I pull out my phone and snap a quick selfie.

  Well, would you look at that?

  I don’t even have to add a filter to this one.

  5:54 p.m.

  Silas’ living room

  Silas and I set up his lights and props around the living room. By the time we’re finished, I actually check and make sure I’m still in his home and not a photography studio. I must say we did a pretty good job. Now I just hope that Taylor does her part and proves to be a good model.

  “Are you all ready, Mr. Hayes?” I ask.

  He smiles, almost making me melt into a puddle. Sweet baby Jesus on a pogo stick, this man is sexy. “I’m a bit nervous, but I’m ready to do this.” He looks over his shoulder toward his bedroom. “Is she going to be ready soon?”

  “I can go check,” I say, moving around the couch to go check on Taylor. Knocking on the door, I listen for a moment. “Almost ready in there?”

  The door opens and she appears with a big smile on her face. I almost do a double take when I see her. Her floor length white dress hangs on every curve she has. It has odd cut outs in weird places, but it actually looks really chic. A crown of colorful flowers sit on her head, which makes her look like a walking Snapchat filter, but whatever.

  “Ready to go,” she says and walks past me with her stylist and makeup artist in tow.

  We all enter the living room and Taylor walks over to Silas. “So where do you want me first?” she asks him.

  He points to a chaise lounge. “We’ll start here. Do whatever feels natural,” he says.

  I pick up Milo and watch as Silas snaps pictures of Taylor. She naturally moves from pose to pose, shocking the hell out of me. She’s actually a really great model, which makes me wonder why she hasn’t been getting jobs. Silas occasionally gives her directions, but other than that, she does everything on her own.

  After a while, Silas finally stands upright and flips through the pictures on his camera. “I think that’s great for this particular look. We’ll do another high fashion look and then switch over to glamour,” he says.

  “Sounds good!” she beams and heads back to the bedroom with her team.

  I move to stand next to him and lean against the arm of the couch. “That went really well,” I say.

  He nods as he continues flipping through the pictures. “You know, I was kind of thinking this was going to be a disaster, but she’s really good,” he says. I fight the urge to snicker. I’m glad I’m not the only person shocked by her skills.

  “Yeah, she is. I’m sure Mr. Herrera will love these,” I say with a smile.

  He looks up and meets my eyes, smiling back at me. “Thanks for your confidence. I hope he loves them, too.”

  7:14 p.m.

  Silas’ living room

  “Hold that pose…perfect. Okay, keep going,” Silas instructs as the shutter of his camera clicks. We’re finally on the last look for the final part of the photoshoot and thank goodness for that. Milo is getting antsy and probably hungry, not to mention my own stomach is growling. I must say Taylor has done a great job so far. If these photos don’t get her a job, then maybe those modeling agencies are blind as well as stupid.

  After another few rounds of clicks, Silas stands upright and releases a sigh. “And I think that’s good. You did great, Taylor,” he says. She beams and clasps her hands together.

  “Awesome! Mind if I see them?” she asks.

  “Sure thing,” he says. I place Milo’s food bowl on the floor and fill it with a can of his food as Silas and Taylor go over to his computer to look at the photos. I’m almost jealous of Milo as he practically wolfs his food down.

  “Oh my goodness,” Taylor murmurs, looking at the computer screen. “I can’t believe that’s me.”

  “Yep, that’s definitely you. You’re a great model,” Silas compliments and looks over at me. “Come check these out, Blake.”

  “Yeah, come see these!” Taylor adds, waving me over. I leave Milo to his dinner and join them on the couch. The pictures came out beautifully. They definitely look like something that would be in Vogue or some other high fashion magazine.

  “You both did an amazing job,” I say in awe. It’s true. Silas’s eye for photography with Taylor’s modeling skills has created beautiful pictures that not only display fashion, but also tell a story. If I hadn’t been here to witness it happen, I wouldn’t have thought Silas took these photos and I would’ve believed someone else was here to coach Taylor on how to move. This photoshoot was a major success. If the people the photos are meant for would think the same thing, then that would be great.

  “I can’t thank you two enough for this opportunity,” Taylor starts, her voice cracking as she fans at her face. “Now I’m getting all emotional and stuff.”

  “No, thank you for helping me get these pictures at the last minute. I don’t think I would’ve found a model with your skill as fast as we were able to get you. So thank you for wanting to help,” Silas says with a smile.

  I can’t help but smile. An unfamiliar warm feeling settles over me as I listen to them thank each other back and forth. I really hope that all of this works for the both of them. It will be a good kick in the face to decrepit grandpa if Taylor is hired for a modeling gig after how he treated her at the party last week. A part of me is torn about Silas though. If Herrera likes his pictures, what will happen then? Will he leave and then leave me behin
d to start his new life of photographing models? It’s selfish for me to want him to stay at a tabloid magazine when I know that isn’t his dream. Either way, I’m rooting for them both and hope that they get the best out of this photoshoot.

  I think so, anyway.

  7:34 p.m.

  Still in Silas’ living room

  We say goodbye to Taylor, her stylist, and makeup artist and then collapse on the couch. Today has been entirely too long for me. Being a photographer’s assistant is a lot more work than I anticipated. Between changing props, helping him adjust lights, and helping Taylor, I’m drained.

  “I’m starving,” Silas finally says.

  “I’ve bypassed starving. I think my stomach is tempting to digest my liver,” I joke.

  Silas laughs and grabs a menu from the basket under the coffee table. “Chinese okay?”

  “What’s vegan?”

  He raises an eyebrow in surprise. “You’d order vegan?”

  “I don’t want to disrespect you in your own home. I’m sure a vegan dinner won’t kill me. Besides, I trust that you’ll help me pick something good,” I say.

  He smiles that smile that makes my stomach do back flips. “You never cease to amaze me,” he says as he opens the menu. “Well, if you were ordering at home, what would you normally get?”

  I tap my finger against my chin as I think. “Kung Pao chicken.”

  “Okay. So replace the chicken with tofu. I’ll bet you $10 that it’ll taste better,” he says, a smirk settling on his face. I stare at him for a few moments before giggling.

  “Okay, deal.”

  8:02 p.m.

  Silas’ rooftop

  It’s a bit chilly out here, but not completely unbearable. We sit in plastic fold out lawn chairs with our food and eat in silence as Milo walks around and sniffs his surroundings. Faint honking from traffic and music floats along the breeze, making the night air magnetic with activity.

  “So how’s that tofu?” he asks with a smirk.

  I grin and stab at a piece of it with a shrug. “It seems like you’re right. Again.”

  He chuckles and takes another forkful of his General Tso Tofu. “How does your family and friends back home feel about you being in New York?”

  I turn my gaze to my carton. Talking about my life back home isn’t what I wanted to do on a date, but it was better to get this over with now instead of letting Madison tell it. “I haven’t really talked to them much since being here,” I admit softly.

  “Any particular reason why?”

  I shrug. “I’d rather not talk about it,” I say, stuffing my mouth as I chicken out. A wave of uncomfortable silence cloaks us as we continue eating. Milo finally stops pacing and settles down next to my feet. I sigh. “Silas?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What would you do if someone made a really big mistake that hurt a lot of people? Would you think differently of them?” I ask. He stops chewing and narrows his eyes at me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like…” I pause. How do I tell him what happened without actually telling him? Will he think I’m a bad person? I know the truth will eventually come out if I ever become serious with him and take him to meet my parents, so maybe it’s better to get it out in the open and hope for the best. “I said and wrote some things about some people back home and a lot of things went wrong.”

  “What did you say and do exactly?” he asks as he pops a piece of broccoli in his mouth.

  I sigh and lean back in my chair. “As far as my parents go, they’re upset with me because I brought to light the fact that one of my dad’s client’s had cheated on his wife with their neighbor and he’s the father of her twins. When his client found out I was behind that getting out, he canceled his construction contract with my dad and told all his friends about it. It caused my dad to lose a lot of business as a result. He hasn’t talked to me since it happened,” I say, guilting overwhelming me as all the memories of the aftermath flood me at once.

  “That sucks,” Silas says but then shrugs. “But he’s your dad. I’m sure he’ll get over it eventually. He’ll always get more business sooner than later. He only has one of you though.”

  I wish that was true. My dad is notorious for holding grudges. I wouldn’t be surprised if he arranged in his will to have his tombstone to say, “Blake, I still don’t forgive you” on it just because that was the type of person he is. All he cares about is his precious business and the moment I interfered with that, I stopped existing to him. “How did that get out anyhow?”

  “I wrote it on a blog I didn’t think anyone read. One post went viral and the next thing I know, everyone is reading my blog and all of my thoughts and secrets are out. I accidentally outed my best friend’s sexuality and his strict, religious parents kicked him out on the street because of it. I caused a lot of drama with my other best friend and her boyfriend by saying that her boyfriend had an STD. People were harassing her and she even thought she may have had it. It was just a horrid mess,” I say. After admitting what I’d done, I’m almost scared to look at him. I can only imagine the look on his face when he realizes I’m not the nice girl he thinks I am.

  “Wow,” he simply says. Wow? Wow what? Wow that he realizes I’m a horrid person or wow that he can’t believe I’d do such a thing? I can’t pick anything up from his tone and I can’t bring myself to look at him. A gust of wind whips at my face and sends a chill down my spine as uncertainty fills me.

  “So to answer your question, I don’t think they care where I am as long as I’m not ruining anything else in their lives. Getting the job here was actually a godsend. I needed to get away from all that and just…start over,” I say, messing over the food in my carton. When he doesn’t say anything, I finally look over at him. “You probably think I’m horrible now.”

  “Did you learn anything from it?” he asks. Did I? The only thing I’ve done is create a private blog to continue doing what I was doing in the first place. Did that make it any better just because it’s private? If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t think I particularly learned the lesson I think he’s insinuating I should’ve learned. The proper thing I should’ve taken away from the situation is gossiping, whether public or private, is bad. Hell, even with my job, there are still lines that we’re not allowed to cross unless we want a lawsuit.

  “I learned that some things are better left unsaid,” I say after a while.

  He nods. “Everyone makes mistakes. Life is all about trial and error. Sometimes you have to fall on your ass a few times to really get it right. I don’t think you’re a bad person. You’re just a person who made a mistake,” he says. His reassuring smile makes me feel a little better, but it doesn’t wash away the guilt I still feel.

  “I wish my friends and family saw it that way,” I say and I take another forkful of food into my mouth. “But you live and you learn, I guess.”

  “Time fixes everything. A year from now none of this stuff will probably matter. You’re right though; you live and you learn,” he says.

  If only it was that simple.

  10:22 p.m.

  In bed

  Blake Unfiltered blog post #792

  Tired doesn’t describe how I feel after today. My “date” with Silas wasn’t what I thought it would be, probably because we were both worn out after the photoshoot. Speaking of which, it went really great! I didn’t think Taylor had it in her! Considering that all she did was complain about not getting jobs, I figured that she just sucked at being a model. I’ll have to ask her about that the next time I see her. If she takes pictures the way she did today, it’s baffling to me (and Silas, too) as to why she isn’t being booked for jobs. They both did a really great job though. I’ll admit that I’m a little scared of what will happen if Mr. Herrera likes Silas’ portfolio. I’m sure he will if he knows great photography when he sees it. Am I being selfish for hoping that Silas stays with me at the magazine? Ugh. I can’t even think something like that without feeling guilty, especially
if I know deep down that he doesn’t aspire to be stuck at Hot Topic forever.

  Anyway, I ended up telling Silas what happened back home and he surprisingly didn’t judge me. It felt good to get that weight off my chest. To have something that heavy on your spirit eventually takes a toll. I thought he would think differently about me after I told him, but he was cool. I mean he’s right. People make mistakes. Although I told him that I learned some things are better left unsaid, I think some things are just better said as long as no one knows. I should be fine as long as something like that doesn’t happen again. I mean I’m a gossip queen. Would people expect any less of me?

  Anyway, one down, the rest of my co-workers to go. I got this!

  xoxo,

  B

  Chapter Twelve

  Saturday, January 24th

  12:36 p.m.

  Living room

  I flip through the channels on tv, finding nothing remotely interesting to watch. Milo wrestles with his teddy bear on the floor, growling and yipping at it as he plays. My phone alerts on the coffee table with a text message. I retrieve it and unlock the screen when I see “Sex Bomb” on display.

  Sex Bomb: Just sent the pictures to him. Wish me luck!

  I smile to myself as I shoot him a quick reply.

  Blake: You got this! Lots of luck! <3

  I gasp the moment I hit I send. Why did I send a heart? Will he think I’m in love with him or something? Before I can ponder too long, he replies back with a kissy face, which makes my heart flutter with excitement. I wish he’d ask me to be his wife already.

  God, how delusional am I?

  Sex Bomb: Do you have plans tonight? Wanted to know if you wanted to do dinner and a movie.