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  “Hardy har har. No, he’s just…God, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, but he’s dressing gay and hanging out at gay bars and just kind of acting gay, you know?”

  “Well, have you asked him point blank, ‘Are you gay?’”

  “No, I don’t want to be rude.”

  Again, I was treated to gales of laughter from halfway around the world. “Millie, my dear friend, what did you always tell me about the quickest distance between two points? Just ask the man. Bhai, are you gay or not?”

  “I can’t just ask him; it’s none of my business. It in no way affects our working relationship, so I have no reason to ask him this, in the same way he has no reason to ask if I’m heterosexual.” Obviously there was no gossip to be had about this man because if anyone had the goods, it was always Upasna.

  “Tell me, my friend. Why do you want to know if this man is gay? What possible reason could you have for caring one way or the other? You don’t have a problem with homosexuality.”

  I did when I wanted to throw one down and have my way with him. “My problem is I want to tackle him and rip all his clothes off. I’m not real keen on showing off those particular moves if I think he bats for the other team.”

  “Oh! You should have said earlier this was about your dismal love life! I would have cancelled my appointment and given you my whole evening.” Again, she barely got the words out, she was laughing so hard.

  “I am so glad that I’m paying international long-distance rates to give you so much amusement. I don’t want to make a fool of myself, Upasna. I have feelings for this guy, and I keep having these extremely vivid fantasies about him, and he even admitted to having one about me where I was naked. Of course, now that I think about it, I never really got the full description of that dream. Hopefully I wasn’t teaching a class or climbing a mountain naked. Anyway, I don’t want to look like a complete ass by throwing myself at him and him looking at me like, ‘Hello? I’m gay; can’t you see that?’”

  “My friend, I have always said that there’s nothing gained in life by sitting on the sidelines. Make your move. If he’s gay, he’s gay; laugh it off and move on with your life. There is no sense in you wringing your hands over this. If you feel chemistry, if you feel a connection with this man, chances are he does, too. So what are you waiting for? Grab that Punjabi and show him what an American woman can do to a man.”

  She was right. After the show I would throw caution to wind and see what happened. The worse would be some awkward groping and some embarrassed apologies, and then I would never have to see him again.

  “You are absolutely right, my friend. I will get through this show, and then I will show him some good old American hospitality.” I smiled at the images that ran through my smutty mind.

  “He would probably like it more if you showed him some good old American pie.” Ohhh, she cracked herself up.

  “Again, so glad I could bring you some comic relief tonight; I’ll send you the bill for the call, smart ass.”

  “If you want the wisdom, you have to put up with the insults. I love you, my friend; let me know what happens with your Punjabi man.”

  “Will do; love you, too.”

  As I hung up and stared at my spreadsheet, I felt like at least I had accomplished something. I felt lighter in spirit, having decided what to do about the Daniel situation. Maybe getting that off my mind would help me with my next decision. Of course, now my mind was filled with images of me jumping on him and ripping his clothes off so…yeah, might need to do a little more than change fonts on the spreadsheet to keep focused.

  CHAPTER 14

  Brace yourselves, my peaches, my doves. Fashion week is just around the corner. Now of course your mama doesn’t get tres excited for any old resort wear collection, but with the spring weather seeping into these sexy ass bones, some shi shi shi swimsuits and some flowy island wear is just the ticket your mama needs.

  Look for the monochromatic theme of fall to seep into our resort wear. Your mama prays that there will be some C-O-L-O-R this season and not just white and beige. Ugh, those seasons are like falling headfirst into a steaming pile of boring. So grab a fruity drink and put on your sunnies, my babies; resort wear has landed.

  --April 20th “It’s just fashion, bitches” blog--

  Marta was kind enough to let me get through resort week before asking for my final decision. She also said she would make sure Scarlett backed off. Marta was slowly becoming my new hero.

  The delay gave me one last chance to really do this job and see if this was where my heart was, or if writing was the next step in my journey. One thing I added twice to the list was steady income. I had spent my early years living paycheck to paycheck, and one good thing about working for Marta was I had no time for a social life or vacations or shopping. My biggest splurge was a new Kindle download about once a month, which meant the bank account was quite healthy.

  That added an item to the other side of the list: I had enough saved up that I could start a new career in writing and see where it took me. I wouldn’t lose the skills I had gained in production, and if writing didn’t work out, I wouldn’t have to crawl back to Marta. I could work for any one of the dozens of competitors who had tried to lure me away for years.

  It seemed like every time I added a pro, there was a con right behind it. The list was evenly stacked on both sides. I kept hearing Avis’s voice in my head reminding me that not making a decision was making a decision: the decision not to act. Thankfully we had today’s dress rehearsal, a day off, then the show. After that I could devote 100% of my time to making a decision.

  Or I could spend 100% of that time making sweet, sweet love to the stunning man who was at this moment walking down the catwalk toward me. I quickly shuffled his set list to the top of my clipboard, covering up the pros and cons list.

  “Well hello there, my dear Millie. You were frowning quite intently at your clipboard. I can only hope you haven’t found some fault with my oh-so-well-thought-out set list?” He flashed that sexy smile at me while trying to see what was on my clipboard.

  “No faults, just making sure we have everything lined up for the dress rehearsal. This is a very critical time for you; any changes you would like to make, I need to know about today. For everything to run smoothly on the day of the show, I will not allow any lineup changes unless it’s due to models not showing up or clothes not being presentable.”

  My words were all business, but I couldn’t stop taking in every aspect of his appearance. I didn’t want to sound politically incorrect, but today he appeared…how should I put it? Less gay. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part, but those faded Levi’s stretched in just the right way and a simple black t-shirt (and not the Simon Cowell, stretched-within-an-inch-of-its-life t-shirt) that I imagined smelled like fabric softener, soap, and exotic man.

  He jumped down next to me and startled me out of my olfactory fantasy, causing me to drop the clipboard and the contents. I quickly stooped to try and cram it all back onto the board, but since the entire universe typically tried to conspire against me, he came up with the pros and cons list. He started reading the first few on the pro side before I snatched it out of his hand.

  “That is private, thank you very much.”

  “Whoa, calm down. I was trying to help gather your papers, as it was my fault you dropped them in the first place. Millie, Millie,” he put his hand over both of mine, which were still trying to shove the list under the other papers and get them all under the safety of the clip. I stopped and stared at his hand over mine. The long, well-manicured fingers; the black hairs on the back of his hand; the contrast between his buttery brown skin and my pale pink skin. Was all his skin this brown? Was it also covered in this soft-looking hair?

  “Millie, please look at me. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you, but I barely saw your papers. I apologize…Millie, why are your eyes squeezed shut? Are you crying?”

  Of course I wasn’t crying, jackass! I was using every l
ast fiber of my self-restraint to not push him onto the floor and have my way with him, audience, show, and pros and cons list be damned!

  I took a deep breath, then looked up and met his golden brown eyes. And just like that, I was lost again.

  “Millie?” he questioned me while squeezing my hand. I looked in his eyes. I had all the words in my head, all the words that would get us back on track, back to our client/vendor relationship…but nothing came out. I squeezed his hand back.

  His gaze drifted down to my lips, and I felt the air snap between us. I had waited long enough. I was going to remind myself what this man tasted like, damn the work.

  I let the clipboard fall from my lap as I reached up to cup his cheek. He lowered his head toward mine and my eyes drifted closed. I felt his breath on my lips, but he held there for a beat—just enough for me to get use to the feel of him in my space. “Please”…that was the only word running through my head.

  “BALLE BALLE BALLE BALLE BALLEEEEE!!!!!!”

  We jerked apart and sprang to our feet when the opening music cue for his show screamed through the near empty hall.

  “Sorry, folks, we’re adjusting the levels. Sorry, sorry!” Mike, the sound guy’s voice came out of the heavens, or more precisely the back sound booth. I quickly looked around to see who might have noticed our almost inappropriate moment, but other than Mike in the booth (who I had totally forgotten about—smooth move, Ace) and a few lighting guys, the coast was clear.

  “Millie, I—”

  “I have to go check the levels; obviously that was ridiculously loud. Sorry, be right back”

  And with that, I stormed up the aisle like the retreating coward I was. Apparently I was to forever almost have a moment with this man. There was nothing he could say, nothing I could say. It was completely and utterly awkward, and I for one was having nothing to do with it.

  “Get everyone lined up backstage when they get here; models should be here in twenty. We’ll start in forty-five minutes. Thanks!” I called out as I looked back over my shoulder. He was just standing there, right where I left him. He looked…I don’t know how he looked. Mad, frustrated, sad, gorgeous…sexy. Shake it off, Millie. You have a show to run. You can throw him on the floor later.

  One hour later, we were ready to start the dress rehearsal.

  CHAPTER 15

  “When are you going to tell him you’re in love with him?”

  I spun around and practically tackled Lizzie back into the dark recesses of the stage. “Keep your voice down,” I hissed. Daniel stood three feet away, intently watching the procession of models down the runway while I was checking things off on my clipboard.

  “And what the hell are you talking about, anyway?” I asked when I finally had Lizzie far enough away from everyone.

  She rolled her eyes at me and peeled off the hand I hadn’t even realized I’d plastered over her mouth. “Millie, I saw you. Before, when you were out in the audience. And I’ve watched you for weeks. You’re obviously head over heels for this man, and it is ridiculous that you’re not doing anything about it.”

  Great, just what I needed on top of everything else. “Lizzie, he’s gay. You and I have known each other long enough that I won’t deny that yes, I have feelings for him, but there’s nothing to be done about it. I don’t float his boat. Do I wish I did? Absolutely. But that’s life, and this is work, and I don’t have time for this. I know you mean well, but I need you to just let this one go, okay?” I looked at her, pleading with my eyes to give it a rest. Lizzie was like a pit bull when she got a hold of something.

  “He is no gayer than you are, Millie, and as a gay woman I am an authority on just how gay you both are not. I don’t know why he’s pretending, but he is. What he can’t hide are his feelings for you. And yes, it is work, and yes, it is complicated, but I know you, Millie. I know you’re lonely, and I know this guy does it for you and you do it for him. Watching the two of you together almost makes me hurl, it’s so sickeningly sweet. But for some reason both of you have your heads up your asses and aren’t doing anything about it. So I am.” She smiled and patted me on the cheek as she tried to brush by me.

  I grabbed the back of her shirt and hauled her back around. “What the hell are you talking about? Seriously, Lizzie, this is work; don’t screw anything up out of some twisted sense of loyalty to me. Obviously you have your opinions about Daniel, and I do too, but for whatever reason, he’s telling the world he’s one thing, and it’s not our place to tell him or them anything different. I’m serious, Lizzie, don’t do anything that would damage the reputation of this company or me. I know you mean well and I love you for it, but please back off.”

  I left her standing against the wall while I went in search of the man I was so desperately trying to protect. But protect from what? Me? Love? A lie? At this point, I had no idea what I was doing, but I definitely knew that whatever it was, there was no place in it for Lizzie and her bright ideas.

  And now I was freaking out about Lizzie’s revelation that my feelings for him were all over my face. If she had picked up on it, what about everyone else? I had worked hard to keep my professional and private lives separate (not too difficult when I had no private life), but add to that the fact that my colleagues might all think I was pining after a gay man? Just what I needed—a crew full of big burly men who pitied me.

  I stopped at the edge of the curtain and watched while Daniel had a quick pep talk with all the models at the end of the runway. I knew Lizzie was right about me having feelings for him, and I was almost 99% sure she was right about him not being gay. I couldn’t figure out why he would lie about that, and I knew it wasn’t really any of my business. If I could just get on the other side of this show, make my decision about my future, and then get the hell out of town for a little R and R, I just might make it through all of this.

  ****

  Once again I found myself perched on the top of a ladder trying to adjust a light that no one noticed was pointed downstage instead of upstage. I was the last one here, and no one else was around to fix it. At least this time I had my Converse sneakers on and wasn’t wobbling around like a weeble.

  And it was kind of peaceful being here by myself, enjoying the quiet after the storm. The rehearsal was over, the notes were given to the crew and the models, and everyone was all set for the big day.

  “What are you doing on the top of that ladder?”

  I must have jumped a foot, and I barely kept myself from falling over the top of the ladder.

  “Millie, watch yourself!” Daniel yelled as he started to come up the ladder.

  “Stop, stop, stop!” I yelled. “Get off; it can barely hold me, let alone the both of us. And what are you doing here sneaking up on me? You scared the shit out of me!”

  Man, it felt good to yell. He was speechless, but I really had almost fallen over the top of the ladder. I hadn’t even heard his footsteps as he walked across the stage, and I really did think the damn thing would break if he tried to get up there with me. I had no intention of getting within five feet of him until after the show. With Lizzie’s threats in my head and my own hormones out of control, I couldn’t trust myself not to molest him, and damn the consequences.

  “Calm down, calm down. I’m not climbing up the ladder; I was just steadying it when I saw you falling over the other side of it. What the hell are you doing up here on your own, anyway? No one’s here. If you had fallen, you would have just laid here until the show.”

  I started down the ladder after I glanced down to confirm that he was not coming up. “I’m fine. You scaring the crap out of me was the only danger I was in. I was up here trying to make everything perfect for your show. Please move; I’m coming down.”

  He stepped back from the ladder but still had his hands steadying the sides. Any second now my ass was going to be right in his face. Why couldn’t the man just do as I told him for once?

  “Daniel, step back. I can’t get down with you blocking the way.” I shot him my
meanest glare while I paused in the middle of the ladder, waiting for him to get out of the way.

  “I’m not blocking the way. I’m holding the ladder to make sure you don’t get hurt on the way down. It’s the least I can do since you’re working so hard to make sure my show is perfect.” He smiled that crooked little grin of his that he thought got him out of every situation. Did he really think that would work? There was no way I was going to come down this ladder and have my ass stuck right in his face. The man was infuriating. But at some point in our conversation, I had also gone all tingly inside. Damn him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as I shifted to turn around in the middle of the ladder. If he wouldn’t move, then I would just come down face-first. I would rather be eye to eye than ass to face.

  “I’m trying to get down the freaking ladder, but you won’t move!” I couldn’t stop the frustration or the yelling. My body was already lighting up due to his proximity, and my mind was filled to the brim with all the freaking details of his show, my future, life; and all I wanted to do was get off the damn ladder and go home.