More than Fashion

37

“Once the show is over, I’ll find some. Maddie’s band members and their girlfriends joined in, too, so by the time we were on stage, I’d made eight costumes. A whole rogues gallery of Batman villains, all with a modern, punk rock look. The Masquerade has a lot of prizes, but Giselle Roberts herself awarded me the Behind The Seams prize and asked me to come on the show.”

“That’s brilliant.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I auditioned twice, by the way.”

“You mean your good looks and sexy accent didn’t win them over the first time?” I asked with my flirtiest smile. “I’m shocked.”

“Some people take longer to win over, I’ve discovered.” He gazed at me with smoldering eyes, and my heart sped up. I knew it was all for the cameras, but when he looked at me like that, it was hard to tell my body it wasn’t real.

“But no, my first audition was a complete disaster,” he said, adding another mini creamer to top off his tall pyramid. “It was my first time in New York, and I was jetlagged and overwhelmed and didn’t have the slightest idea what I was doing. I presented my clothes to the panel, which was Lola, Ricardo, and two of the producers. They asked me questions about my aesthetic, and I stammered through them. When they asked me to pull a dress out to show them, I couldn’t get the hanger off and tugged too hard and ended up knocking the entire rack over. Then, to top it off, I called Ricardo ‘Roberto.’”

I laughed. “It’s hard to imagine you like that.”

“It’s a miracle they let me audition a second time.”

He went on to tell me about his second audition, which had gone much better. Before I knew it, our lunch break was over and we’d forgotten to kiss, so wrapped up in our conversation. It was the first time we’d just sat and talked and the first time being around him hadn’t made me want to strangle him at any point.

I had to be careful. I was in serious danger of actually liking the guy.

***

Carla soon arrived to try on my superhero look—a kick-ass pair of black pants that were tight, yet easy to move in, under a fitted coat that was sexy, yet kept the ladies safe and secure. It had a hood and a bit of extra fabric around the neck that could be pulled up like a mask to cover the mouth and chin. Throw in a utility belt and boots she could run in, and it was a perfect modern, functional crime-fighting costume.

While she got dressed, I switched off my mic and explained my agreement with Gavin in whispers. Her eyebrows got closer and closer together with every word.

“It’s good you have a strategy,” she said once I’d finished. “But are you sure this is a smart idea?”

“I don’t know if it’s smart, but I think it will work.”

She nodded, biting her lower lip. “I want you to stay on the show as long as you can, but I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable either.”

“Don’t worry about that. Since when have I ever had a problem hooking up with a guy?” I handed her the coat, and she slid it on.

“True, but…”

“But what?”

“The way you interact with Gavin is different.”

I snorted. “Only because I’m forced to see him day in and day out. Any other guy would have been kicked to the curb a long time ago.”

“Maybe that’s all it is,” she said, but she sounded doubtful.

We walked to the mirror to check her out, and I could see the worry etched across her face. I turned her toward me and stared into her big brown eyes. “Seriously, it will be fine.”

“I trust your judgement. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Me? Never.”

She gave me a hug, and at first I stiffened, but then hugged her back. She’d been my model on the show long enough that it was fine. No one would suspect anything.

After she left, I heard Gavin muttering under his breath, his voice growing increasingly upset. His look—a crop top with a geometric pattern, plus a cape and a tight pair of leather pants—still needed a lot of work. Since I was in a good mood from our lunch and was pretending to be all doe-eyed for him for the cameras, I figured I’d offer him a hand.

I finished up the final touches on my coat, then moved to lean against his table. “You need some help? I’m already done.”

“No, thank you.”

“You sure? I could finish sewing those pants for you in no time while you work on that cape.”

“I can manage on my own,” he snapped.

I stared at him, trying to figure out why he was being so stubborn. “But you have less than an hour. You won’t be able to finish all this in time. I just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help!”

I blinked and threw up my hands. “Fine. Never mind, then.”

Stunned, I went back to my workstation and checked over my look again. What was his problem? One second we’d been bonding over lunch, and the next he’d bitten my head off. He was supposed to act like he was into me, not like a total d**k.

I should have known this wouldn’t work out.

Sexual chemistry? Not a problem.

Getting along for more than five minutes? Nearly impossible.

***

The runway show was a fun one. Carla rocked her costume, looking fierce and sexy and amazing. I wanted to snap a photo of her and send it to my friends Tara and Hector, who’d created a graphic novel together called Misfit Squad. How cool would it be to have a half-black, half-Portuguese superhero with natural hair as the lead in a comic book? Or in a TV show or movie? I wished I had my phone so I could send them the idea immediately.