“What do you think the goal was?”
I felt the pit in my stomach grow. “I think the goal was to make me an unattractive option for Luca.” I looked down at my hands.
And it worked.
I pushed the thought out of my head, looked back up, and continued. “If she was able to succeed in making the idea of me synonymous with being sexually promiscuous and a gold-digger, it would increase the chance that he would only be interested in me for sex and nothing more. And if I’m no longer a contender, she thinks she’ll have a shot with him.”
She jotted down notes. “What do you think the goal was for The Lost Boys?”
“I think the goal of The Lost Boys was to shame me and to perpetuate the idea that women aren’t allowed to do whatever the fuck they want to do with their bodies, but men can. They reiterated the idea that women who they deem a ho aren’t worthy of being in a relationship and that there’s a certain number of partners a woman can have before she loses the potential to be a girlfriend or wife. They seem to think that same logic doesn’t apply to men though. And that double standard along with the slut-shaming is why The Lost Boys are bad for the community at large. They are a bunch of degenerate creeps who slut-shame for sport, and they need to be stopped.”
“This is excellent content.” She scribbled a bunch of stuff down before asking, “Do you worry about the slut-shaming damaging your reputation?”
“Yes and no. I worry that it’ll affect my business. I’ve had two models drop out of my fashion show because of it. But I don’t worry about it affecting my dating life because any man that I’d want wouldn’t be threatened by my past, and he wouldn’t automatically believe everything he heard about me.”
“Hold on.” She held up her hand. “Did the models say they weren’t going to be in the show because of the rumors?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I got a text message last night saying they needed to back out because they didn’t want to be associated with ‘slut wear’, which is the phrase The Lost Boys used in their podcast. My social media pages have been sprinkled with ho, slut, and gold digger references.” I sighed. “I should be able to replace the models and I’ve been deleting posts, but it blows my mind that I’m even having to deal with it.”
“So, this is truly impacting your life?”
“It is. Anytime I’m spending the week leading up to my show looking for models or removing comments from my business social media pages, it has gone too far.”
“I agree,” she commented, writing her notes.
The interview felt more like two friends catching up. We spent the next thirty minutes talking about Simply Serena and my launch for the upcoming year. Just talking about everything I had in the works made me extremely excited for the future, and the passion for fashion design poured out of me.
“Final question,” Akila started. “What do you want people to know about Serena Brooks?”
I considered her question for a minute. “I design from the heart, and I pour love into every creation. I design for everybody and every body.”
“I love that. Is that your tagline?”
I nodded. “Yes. Simply Serena: Designed for every body.”
“Love that.”
“Thanks!”
“Any last words?”
I smiled. “Don’t believe the rumors, but definitely believe the hype.”
Akila sat back in her seat as she pressed the off button on the recorder. “This is going to be huge. I feel it.”
“I do, too. Thank you for this opportunity.”
“No, thank you.” She shook her head. “You got me an A on my very first assignment with Luca.”
I opened my mouth to respond and she continued, “And then you are going to have me looking like a knockout at my parent’s vow renewal and at Carlos’s gala. So again, thank you.”
I laughed. “Well, how about we say that we’re even?”
Slipping into her jacket, she giggled. “Deal.” Standing, she gathered her things. “Oh! And how are things with you and Luca?”
I froze. “What do you mean?” I replied quickly.
Akila gave me a look before breaking into a little smile. She tilted her head. “I thought you and Luca had plans to meet to discuss working together or something. Isn’t that what you two talked about at the showcase?”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah.” I stood, avoiding eye contact. “Luca is…” I had a flashback to the photoshoot. “Very professional.”
Her smile grew. “That’s cool.”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“I’m going to be honest. When you two were talking, I thought I saw some sparks.”
I shook my head slowly. “Nope. We have a professional relationship.”
Grinning, she walked to the door. “Okay.”
“Bye, Akila,” I called out, turning my back to her.
“Bye! Send me an invoice!”
The door clicked and something inside me did as well.
Luca Romano and I are nothing more than two professionals using each other for our respective projects. Yeah, we talked every day for hours. Yeah, I felt something. And yeah, he hurt my feelings. But it doesn’t matter. It was only supposed to be a business relationship anyway. And what does it matter if a business associate doesn’t call me in days?
“It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled under my breath.
I was going to be featured in his project and whether or not he followed through with photographing my campaign, I’d still get publicity from him using me in his. There really wasn’t any reason for me to be mad. I was going to be in a Luca Romano project. The rumor that I was dating Luca was what got me a feature in Re-Mix Magazine. If nothing else, my association with Luca served me more than it hurt me professionally. But personally, it stung.
But I don’t have any reason to be mad at him.
I acknowledged that I was being overly dramatic, breathed, and then let it go.
I had more important things to focus on. I had a fashion show. I had a website to finish. I had clothes to make. I had things to do. And what I didn’t have time for was a man who acted as if he was embarrassed by me while in front of other people.
I didn’t know if it was the rumors or maybe the fact that he lost interest or if he was just trying to get to know me as his muse and once he photographed me, he was done. I didn’t know, and I couldn’t concern myself with figuring out why.
“Hey, Serena!” Jessica called out as she pushed the door opened. She walked into the workspace with three other models in tow.
Forcing thoughts of Luca out of my head, I allowed my face to erupt into a huge smile. “Hey, guys! Come on in. I can’t wait to see the clothes on you.”
Chapter Eleven
“Are you seriously ignoring the call?” Vanessa asked me as we sat outside on Wednesday night.
“Yeah, I’ll call him back,” I replied nonchalantly, pulling my denim jacket around me tighter.
“Well, I want to know where the hell he’s been for the last five days!”
I shrugged, but I couldn’t deny that I wanted answers, too.
I was admittedly hurt that I hadn’t heard from Luca at first—with the weekend being the hardest. But on Monday, as I fit my models with my Simply Serena pieces and accessories, my focus shifted. On Tuesday, I dramatically concluded that I’d probably never hear from him again. I created a list of amazing photographers I’d worked with in the past to shoot my advertising and marketing campaign. As I went over makeup and hair options with the models, my mind was occupied. But just before I fell asleep that night, he sent a text that read ‘Sorry. Busy.’ So, to get a call on Wednesday night didn’t make me want to prioritize him—especially since he didn’t prioritize me.
“It’s too late to be a business call,” Vanessa mused.
“It’s not even eight o’clock yet,” I laughed, looking at the missed call notification on my phone.
“No, but if he’s calling about still shooting your campaign or about tickets to the fashion show or e
ven about his project, then you know it’s business, and you should carry the conversation with that energy. If he calls just to see how you’re doing, it’s personal, and you should give him a piece of your mind!” She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “How dare he disappear for five days and then feel like he can pop back up?”
I turned my lips upward to smile at my best friend. “Nessa, honestly, I’m not worried about it.”
She pursed her lips. “Honestly, I can still see the hurt in your eyes.”
I looked away quickly. “I’m not worried about it. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”
“I just—”
“It’s not that he was obligated to call me every day. We weren’t dating. We weren’t fucking. We weren’t doing anything that would obligate him to me. We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks, so I’m not mad at him for not calling. I realized while I was in bed this morning that the reason it hurt was because I’d gotten used to talking to him. I’d gotten used to the routine of spending hours on the phone with him, discussing the past, the present, and the future.” I closed my eyes and sighed wistfully. “He got me in a way that not many men would, so we clicked. So, the problem was that I got too comfortable with something that was only ever supposed to be business anyway.”
“It’s not all on you! He was wrong!” Vanessa argued. “This is not all on you!”
“There was definitely mutual interest there. There was no way he could’ve been faking the way he looked at me. It wasn’t just one sided.” I stood up and hugged her. “But at the end of the day, I’m responsible for my feelings and I put too much stock into what I thought was there.”
She pulled out of the hug and eyed me suspiciously. “How are you always so cool about letting men go? You are always so mature and rational when it comes to ending things.”
“It’s my keen eye for fashion. I can always spot what doesn’t work. Clothes or relationships, if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. You can’t try to pretty it up with accessories and think that’s going to change anything. You can’t force two pieces to work. You can have two great articles of clothing that individually look great and work on their own, but that doesn’t mean they’ll work together.”
“That’s true. But still…”
“It’s like if I’m a beautiful gown and he’s a pair of sexy jeans, we are amazing individually, but we don’t belong together. And I’m not into forcing things that aren’t meant to go together. So, it’s all good. It’s all professional. It’s no big deal.”
“Mm hmm. Well, I’m going to go home so you can call him and then immediately call me and tell me what happened.”
I laughed. “Isn’t that what we always do?”
“I’m nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?”
Her smile dimmed a bit and her eyes filled with concern. “Because I don’t think he’s jeans.” She paused. “I’m nervous because I think he might be a tux.”
We stared at each other in that telepathic way best friends do.
She didn’t say it, and she didn’t compel me to say it, either. But it was clear that we were both hoping that Luca had a valid explanation.
“I’ll call you in a minute,” I informed her as I made my way to my apartment building.
My heart thumped in my chest the entire walk to my place and when I got home, it beat even harder and louder.
“You can do this,” I coached myself as I hit the button to call him.
I waited.
I waited.
Mid-ring, Luca’s accented voice boomed through the phone. “Hello? Serena?”
The way he said my name was sexy as hell.
Closing my eyes, I blocked out how it made me feel and focused on keeping it professional. “Hey, how are you?”
“I’m great! How are you?”
I tried really hard not to be put off by how nonchalant he seemed after ignoring me for days.
“That’s good to hear. I’m fine. What’s up?”
“How are you?”
I kept my tone measured, unbothered. “I’m fine.”
He was quiet for at least thirty seconds before he cleared his throat. “I was calling to see if you wanted to check out some of the shots from the shoot on Saturday.”
“I’m two days away from the fashion show, so I’m focused on that. When do you have to submit them?”
He paused. “In a week and a half. You can check it out another time.” He cleared his throat again. “Are you ready for your show?”
“Yeah, I am.”
There was a marked silence that settled over the line. It was awkward, but it also pulsated with unasked questions.
“I uh—I would need to do the photoshoot for your campaign before my seminar starts. Do you have a date in mind?”
Grabbing the planner in my design room, I looked over the month of October. “Either Wednesday or Friday of next week works for me.”
“Is Friday enough time?”
I nodded, tapping the pen against the planner. “Yeah, it is. I’ll let the models know. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He waited a beat before continuing, “Talk to me.”
“About?”
Luca chuckled lightly. “Serena.”
“I’m not sure what you want from me, Luca. Is this a personal relationship or a business relationship? I don’t know how to carry it with you.”
“What do you mean? Can’t it be both?”
“I thought it was, but…”
“But what?”
I sighed. “But you made it clear that it was business. You can’t flip flop between the two.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you home?”
“Of course, you don’t.” Exhaling, I shook my head. “Yeah, I am.”
“Okay. Can we talk face-to-face? I’m outside.”
I froze. “What?”
“I was running some errands and ended up on this side of town. I remembered you said you lived in this apartment complex.”
I rolled my eyes as I walked into the living room. “You also have my address.”
He laughed. “Yeah, that too. Can I come up?”
I looked down at my black leggings and red t-shirt and considered changing. My hair was pushed back with a simple, black headwrap. My face was free of makeup, and I wasn’t wearing any earrings.
You know what? No. Why am I going to change?
“I’ll come outside to you,” I responded, slipping my ballet slippers on.
“Really?”
“Really.” Grabbing my keys, I walked out the front door with the phone still pressed to my ear. “Where are you?”
I spotted him as soon as the question rolled off my tongue. Standing under a street light in grey sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and a red and grey jacket, he looked good. My stomach flipped at the sight of him.
“I’m standing on the sidewalk watching you walk toward me with a frown on your face.”
I did everything I could to resist the smile that tried to force my lips upward. Glaring at him, I hung up the phone.
“Serena Brooks,” Luca greeted me, opening his arms wide.
“Luca Romano,” I returned, reaching my hand toward his for a shake.
His face fell slightly as he let his arms drop so he could shake my hand. “Talk to me. Did I do something?”
I tried to pull my hand away, but he didn’t let it go. Instead, he rubbed his thumb across my knuckles and stared deep into my eyes. My skin tingled from his touch. I squeezed his hand before pulling from his grasp.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I just…” I closed my eyes for a second as I prepared to admit how I felt. “I thought this was something that it wasn’t, and I got my feelings hurt.”
He searched my face with his brows furrowed. “I have no idea what’s going on.”
“From the beginning, it just felt like we clicked. And even though I didn’t know you, I immediately felt comfortable with you.”
“I felt the same way.”
“I knew we were establishing a business relationship, but from that night we had dinner, it felt like we had a personal relationship, too. I saw you a few times last week, and we talked every single night for hours about so much more than just our work. So, I thought...” I hesitated. “There was something here.”
“Again, I felt the same way.”
“And then I didn’t hear from you for days.”
“Because I was working.” He was quiet, looking at me expectantly. “Hold up… Is that why you’re mad? Because I was working?”
“No. I’m not mad that you were working. I’m not mad at all. I just had gotten used to the amount of time we’d…” I took a breath. “My feelings were a little hurt, but that’s because I was looking at this situation as if we were more than just business associates. I know that we aren’t now, so I’m just trying to keep things professional.”
“So… because I was working, we’re just business associates now?” He took a step backward and scrubbed his face with his hands.
I opened my mouth to tell him that it was also how he changed the way he interacted with me on Saturday, but when his eyes met mine, my voice faltered.
“Serena…” He laced his fingers and rested them on his head. “Honestly, I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I forced myself to smile even though my eyes started stinging. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“This whole thing is because I didn’t call you for a few days. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t realize it was going to be a big deal.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I bristled.
“Well, it sounds like it’s a big deal.”
Cuffing Season Page 12
