by India Lee
“I can’t even furnish my much smaller apartment, I’m not sure how he’s going to manage filling all this space with the limited time he has,” Gemma said, stepping back to marvel at the red brick exterior.
“He’s an NBA player,” Andy scoffed. “He’ll find someone to handle it. Or his mom.” Andy shrugged. “It’s probably gonna be his mom.”
“So you two have known each other for awhile, haven’t you?” Gemma laughed.
“Yeah,” Andy said, a small smile cracking his lips. “When I really let myself stop to think about it, I should’ve known that this is more his style. I was just debating between approaching this as an agent versus approaching this as a friend. I just really wanted a friend to buy that other place and Damian’s the only person I know who can afford it. By a longshot. Also, the commission on my end would have been pretty sweet.”
“I can imagine.”
“You two used to be a thing, right?” Andy asked, his cigarette hanging lazily from the corner of his mouth. “I remember hearing your name in high school.”
“Yes,” she said, lowering her eyes to the ground. Gemma was starting to feel shy about the topic.
“How about now?” Andy asked. Gemma looked up, furrowing her brows.
I don’t know how to answer that, Gemma thought. She was pretty sure she hadn’t imagined that peculiar moment between them in the DUMBO loft. After all, he had remained surprisingly flirtatious in the car on the way to their next location. At least she thought so. She wondered if there was any room for interpretation in their exchanges. He had been equally flirtatious with Azura at the Gotham Ball the other night – and after returning from the bathroom, Zoe had reported back that Azura and Damian were in fact not dating, or at least not currently.
But in Andy’s car, Damian had stretched his arm across the backseat, letting his fingers rest in a tangle of Gemma’s wavy locks. He would give her the occasional playful tug as if to let her know he hadn’t forgotten about her despite his focus remaining on the streets in front of them, studying the neighborhoods as they drove through. And he had opened the car door for her upon arriving at each destination. But then again he’d do that for anyone. She was pretty sure he had actually opened Andy’s door for him each time too. There were small touches, quick glances, many little things that were ultimately more ambiguous than she would have liked. That is until they saw yet another loft with a spectacular view in Red Hook. It was a different style than the one in DUMBO, but much more unfinished and quite the fixer-upper.
“I can’t really take on a project like this,” Damian had said to Andy. It was the sixth stop they had made, and Andy had postponed his date for yet another hour. Oddly, Damian didn’t seem to feel too bad about it. Gemma found the two boys’ relationship rather amusing – Damian was less careful around Andy than he was with everyone else, the way he probably would have been if he had a brother. She was amused by the little surprises in Damian’s personality, seeing things that she actually didn’t know, would have never predicted but somehow still fit.
As Andy stepped away to make another phone call, Damian sidled up next to Gemma, slipping an arm around her waist as she watched the brilliantly red sunset out the long stretch of windows. He let his hand rest low on her hip, as he normally did. But this time, Damian’s fingertips dug into her hips as he pressed her body into his side. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in as he let his lips graze her temple. In that moment, as far as Gemma was concerned, it was the most winning combination of touches a girl could possibly feel.
“Hey,” she whispered, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She tilted her head to press her ear against his chest. His heart was racing and she was pretty sure she knew this time what was causing it to. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his body against her. Her own heart was beating so fast, she could practically see it through the thin cotton of her dress.
“Sorry for dragging this on for so long, you must be so tired,” Damian said, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, close to her lips. Her body buzzed, not even sure what she was anticipating exactly. All she knew was that she loved every feeling, every sensation that was coursing through her at that moment. She wasn’t really tired. She felt more as if they had both shared a bottle of wine on an empty stomach and were lazing in each other’s arms in front of a fireplace.
He turned her towards him, cupping her face in his hands as he leaned his forehead against hers, in that same way that they had in the front room of her boutique. Damian looked at her, as if he were searching her eyes for some sort of signal. Lean in, Gemma told herself. That’s what he’s looking for. Just a little, and that’s all he needs…
But just as she was about to, Andy interrupted once again.
And of course, the next spot they looked at was the one they stood in front of now – the one that Damian had run up and down and around with the expression of a child on Christmas morning. He was so taken by the charming townhouse that he seemed to have forgotten everything that had happened in that loft in Red Hook.
And once again, Gemma was left wondering if she had imagined it all.
DAMIAN EVANS SPOTTED HOUSE HUNTING WITH GEMMA HUNTER
The Durt
July 11th
Damian Evans and Gemma Hunter were spotted house hunting together in Brooklyn yesterday, which begs the question – what the heck are ya doing buying a place out in the boonies, Damian? Did you not see all those zeros at the end of your latest paycheck? You do realize you’re an NBA star, right?
Anyway, while we can’t help but wonder if Gemma’s two-timing our Manhattan Prince, Corey Sloan, Jr., we almost can’t blame her for running around town with our all-time favorite, Mr. Sex God Evans. The NBA hottie is looking better than ever and his list of alleged conquests seems to prove that every Hollywood female agrees.
Which we’re not mad about since it gives our girl Gemma an excuse for hopping around. If Damian Evans can have a girl in every city, we suppose Gem can have a boy in every borough, right? Next up: Queens.
Chapter 6
“Oh my God, one of you rip the damn band-aid already,” Zoe exclaimed. “You’d think you’d be sick of going back and forth for as long as you have but you two masochists are having the time of your lives just dragging this on forever.”
“That is not what’s happening, Zo,” Gemma said, her eyes on the two stylists that were fussing over her hair and makeup, too busy to give a damn about listening to their conversation. Zoe did her best to stand out of their way after dropping by at Gemma’s photoshoot for June Magazine to listen to her woeful recollection of the previous night.
June was doing their yearly special of new designers to look out for at Fall Fashion Week and Gemma had been chosen to showcase one of her favorite looks. A few years ago, Armand had been among the elite group of new talent. In fact, just about every designer that had been named to the list moved onto successful careers in haute couture. Gemma had screamed in excitement when she found out they wanted to feature her. With the majority of the press still happy to paint her as a failed pop star just looking to stay busy, she was especially grateful for the honor. And unlike the other two designers being featured, the director of the shoot had asked Gemma to model her own chosen piece.
It had been ages since she herself was the subject of a photo shoot and Gemma was actually pretty excited for it, knowing it would be an opportunity to show herself in a different light. Wanting to steer clear from everything Queen Bee, Gemma had asked for a simpler hairstyle and makeup scheme to go with the gown that she had decided to use for the shoot – an ivory trapeze dress made of a silk inner layer and a unique lace overlay that looked almost like she had dragged the fabric through shimmery cobwebs.
They settled on leaving her hair natural but slightly teased so that it was full yet light, floating around her shoulders like cotton candy. Her makeup was comprised of some blush and lipstick, rosy hues that brought out her natural coloring. It was exactly what she had hoped for. She
looked every bit like herself and not some carefully constructed image that she was hiding behind. Gemma felt a bit naked, exposed – but she knew it was what she needed. She was proud of her work and was ready to have her real name and her real face behind it.
And the best part about modeling a design that she had created was knowing exactly how the piece was supposed to move. For a moment, after putting it on, she had forgotten about Damian and analyzing everything that had happened – and it seemed Zoe had done the same. She stood behind the photographer, her hands clasped together in excitement as Gemma twirled and posed, showing off her creation.
“I’m wearing that to the Leadoff premiere, ‘kay?” she yelled at some point. Gemma nodded, a smile beaming on her face. She knew Zoe was a supportive friend, but she also knew that her enthusiasm for Gemma’s work was genuine. After all, Zoe had always considered bluntness and honesty two of the most crucial parts of being a good friend. “It doesn’t help anyone if I lie to you and say you’re good when you’re not,” she would often say.
Though Gemma’s shoot went for hours, the other two featured designers suggested heading out for a celebratory dinner afterward. Gemma walked out with Zoe, giving her a quick kiss goodbye as she stepped into her car – a designers-only affair, apparently.
“Don’t forget. Do something,” Zoe whispered, hurriedly. “About Damian. Pretty sure he left the ball in your court so just do something. Promise? Thanks.” She grinned, rolling up the windows of her car and speeding off before Gemma could even reply.
~
“Please, forgive me for asking this,” said Marlie after a young girl approached Gemma for an autograph. “But who exactly are you? I kind of thought we had to be new designers to be in this showcase.”
Marlie was in her late fifties, among the older people ever chosen for June’s up-and-comers showcase. She was incredibly tall – over six feet in her steel-toed boots, and wiry like the model who wore her design for the shoot. The outfit she had showcased had an industrial aesthetic, like Rosie the Riveter doing haute couture. It was a long-sleeved jumpsuit styled to look like a factory uniform, but with delicate, feminine accents.
“Oh, you used to sing, right?” Freddie, the other designer, nodded at Gemma before looking back over at Marlie. Age-wise, he was somewhere between Gemma and Marlie, though she didn’t know exactly where. “You used to be a singer and you used to go by that name.”
“Queen Bee,” Gemma said, feeling strangely embarrassed about having to say it aloud. Sitting in the small TriBeCa restaurant with Marlie and Freddie made her feel like an adult for once, free of her history as a teen pop star. They had arrived at the restaurant as peers despite their varying ages, and it was nice to feel like she was starting a friendship with people who knew nothing of her history. So much for that.
“Oh, that’s cute,” Marlie said. Gemma frowned at her use of the word, though she knew that it wasn’t meant to be condescending. “I like that. Why didn’t you name your line after that?”
“Oh my God, I get it!” Freddie exclaimed. “The queen’s court! The Court! So you kind of did name it after your old career. Ugh, I love it.” Gemma smiled, despite herself. She liked the name of her new line, yet she wondered why she had chosen something that was still ultimately tied to the career she so wanted to escape.
“Your old jobs never totally leave you,” Marlie shrugged her skinny shoulders. “I was a manager at a welding equipments supplier for probably as long as you two have been alive. I think you can see how it’s influenced my design.”
“Oh my God, definitely. It’s perf,” Freddie nodded, covering his mouth as if he was stunned by the revelation. He had mentioned that, unlike Gemma and Marlie, he was fairly new to the city. Gemma wondered if it was necessary for him to mention it at all, considering his unmatched level of newcomer enthusiasm.
“How about you?” Gemma looked at Freddie who was still sitting in his own happy little world. “What did you do before this?” She thought about how he had chosen a draped viscose gown that made his model look as if she was dripping in chocolate. Maybe he owned a chocolatier, she smiled.
“I lived on a farm!” Freddie giggled. “I guess I technically was a farmer but I didn’t get paid for it since, you know, family thing.”
“I can’t say I see any farm influence in your work, Freddie,” Marlie laughed.
“My work is a reflection of my daydreams,” Freddie said, twirling his fork on the table, watching it as if he was a child spinning a top. “And I did plenty of that while picking soybeans all day.” Marlie gave him a grin before turning back to Gemma.
“So what did you sing that I may recognize?” Marlie asked, prompting Gemma to blush.
“Oh, nothing,” she shook her head, wanting to again divert the conversation from her life as Queen Bee. She had done so well all day until she was approached by the fan. “I was kind of just like… a blip in the music world in the grand scheme of things.” Gemma frowned, realizing how true her statement actually was, even if she had intended it as a lie.
“Oh. My. God,” Freddie said, his fingers waving around his face as he had another realization. “You totally used to date that famous actor guy. The guy who just won an Oscar or something!”
“Tyler Chase, yeah,” Gemma shook her head. Guess we’re not changing the subject. “He was nominated, he didn’t win, unfortunately.” Not that you’ve even seen the movie.
“Oh, Tyler Chase,” Marlie said, her voice lilting with recognition. “Oh I thought he was absolutely great in that movie he did last year, really fantastic. And he used to be a singer too, right?” She turned to look at Gemma, placing a hand over hers. Marlie quickly frowned, seeming to sense Gemma’s discomfort. “Oh, but who cares what everyone used to be? We’re all here to celebrate what we’re about to be so why aren’t we doing that?”
“Because our drinks aren’t here yet!” Freddie answered, clapping his hands. Gemma furrowed her brows at him. Perhaps it was the darker mood that she was suddenly in, but she found Freddie’s unflappable happiness and excitement a little irritating. As if he realized what she was thinking, he spoke up once again. “I’m a little bit crazy.” He nodded, as if to emphasize his statement. “I’m sorry if it’s annoying. I’ll try to keep it together.”
“Nuh-uh. A little bit crazy does us good,” Marlie interjected. “Trust the old lady here. I would have never ended up finally working my dream job if I weren’t a little bit crazy. I turned fifty and told my husband and family I had an announcement. They thought I was planning an early retirement, not starting from scratch with a new career. At my age? With my job? My husband hadn’t seen me wear makeup or put on a dress since our wedding and I was about to do what now? And look. Here I am. Better late than never.”
Freddie clutched his heart and let out a squeaky little whimper as if the story had literally moved him. Or physically punched him in the gut. “Oh my God – love it!” he finally cried, ripping his hands from his chest and throwing them up in the air. He didn’t seem to mind that nobody else at the restaurant was speaking at even a third of his volume. “Love, love, love it!”
“And our drinks are here,” Gemma announced, pointing at the sparkling flutes of champagne that were set down in front of them. It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying Freddie’s excitement, she just wasn’t yet on the same page. She suspected a little alcohol would help though.
“Some bubbly for the bubbly,” Marlie said, holding her drink up to the effervescent Freddie. The three clinked glasses, quiet for a moment as they celebrated the honor they had received earlier in the day. In the brief silence among them, Gemma could once again feel the beginnings of her new life, a chapter that she had been looking forward to for years.
By their second bottle, even the copious amounts of rice in their sushi rolls couldn’t absorb the alcohol in their systems. They were laughing perhaps just a bit too loudly, drawing the attentions of everyone in the restaurant as they shared stories of other times they’d been that drunk. It
was something Gemma had noticed to be a trend that tied together people of all ages and walks of life – the need to talk about how drunk one currently was and how drunk they’ve been in the past, while drunk.
“Once,” Freddie began in an attempted whisper. “So. Once. This one time, I was like seventeen or something and I met this boy, and if you knew where I lived you’d know that meeting a boy as a boy in ‘that’ context was totally scandalous, but more important, totally rare! We were all so deep in the closet with gaydars so weak that we couldn’t find one another – but lo and behold, I was super lucky and found this fellow gay farmer boy and one night we got our hands on a bottle of vodka, got super drunk, and decided we wanted our first kiss to be with each other. Which was amazing! Because I had already doomed myself into having a mediocre, reluctant first kiss with a girl and I just couldn’t believe I had the opportunity to have my dream first kiss. But, the problem was, we both still lived with our parents and there was no way we wouldn’t get caught and there was no safe place for us to hide and make out without looking suspicious. We had the option of our houses, our barns, and the big open soybean fields that didn’t cover nearly as much as we would like. And since it was my first kiss – the one I had daydreamed about forever, I wanted it to be special and I didn’t want it to happen in a smelly barn so I suggested we build a treehouse in the one flimsy tree between our houses.”
“Because that would be so much less conspicuous,” Marlie laughed.
“I was very drunk!” Freddie continue. “And I thought this was a great idea and so we ended up building this treehouse. It was a terrible treehouse because, well, we were so drunk.”
“Well, how was the kiss?” Gemma asked. “I mean, that’s the part we’re waiting for.”
