by L.H. Cosway
Most weeks, I sat one table away from Elodie and Suze, but today I’d daringly opted to sit at the table right next to theirs. I lifted my cup to take a sip, and as I lowered it back down, I missed the mark and brown liquid splattered over my table and halfway across theirs.
Suze let out a gasp as I apologised. “I’m so sorry.”
I grabbed some napkins to wipe up the spilled coffee from their table, inwardly cursing my sudden clumsiness. Awkward was not a word anyone would use to describe me. I didn’t have a clumsy bone in my body. I guess it served me right for paying too much attention on listening and not enough on what I was doing with my hands.
Suze looked me up and down with marked interest. Her pretty eyes went wide as they travelled from my feet all the way up to my face. “Don’t apologise. I can’t believe I didn’t see you sitting there.”
I gave her a charming smile. “Well, I am sorry for splattering coffee all over your table. Please allow me to pay for both of your drinks.” My eyes briefly went to Elodie, but she stared intently at the table. Her shoulders were rigid and her mouth a straight, tense line. That was odd.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you’re simply beautiful. Have you ever modelled before?” Suze asked.
“I haven’t, but thank you very much for the compliment.”
“Are you a fast learner?”
“Pardon?”
She stuck out her hand. “I’m Suzanna Lee. I have a collection showing at London Fashion Week and I’d be forever in your debt if you agreed to model for me this weekend. Two of my guys have come down with the flu.”
I shook her hand. “Julian Fairchild, and I’m afraid I have to decline.”
Her frown encompassed her entire face. “I’ll pay you handsomely, and I’ll be especially grateful if you happen to have a twin brother.”
I gave a soft laugh. “Unfortunately, I’m an only child.” I glanced at Elodie again and this time managed to catch her eye. Hers got big and fluttery, like she was nervous or frightened, which confused me. I frowned as I returned my attention to Suze, feeling bad for turning her down so quickly. She really did seem desperate, and perhaps this was my chance to ingratiate myself with the two of them, get to know Elodie better by doing a favour for her friend.
“I guess if you really need the help I could throw on some clothes and strut down a catwalk,” I told her, and she smiled wide.
“Oh em gee, thank you so much! And do you have any friends who look like you? Handsome men run in packs, right?” she joked.
“I have one, but he’s older.”
“How old?”
“Fifty-one, I think, but if asked he’ll tell you he’s not a day over forty-five.”
Suze laughed. “Well, it’s a gentleman’s prerogative to shave off a few years. Do you think he’d be up for a bit of modelling?”
“I’ll run it by him,” I replied and pulled out my phone to text David. I still couldn’t believe how quiet Elodie was being, and I was more than a little disappointed that she hadn’t taken the opportunity to flirt. Like Suze said, I was a handsome, well-groomed specimen of a man. She should be all over me.
Or maybe my ego had lost the run of itself. It wasn’t like every woman I met fell at my feet. I’d been rejected my fair share of times just like everyone else. Still, the idea of being rejected by Elodie bothered me. Having listened to all her stories, I felt a kinship towards her.
Didn’t she realise we were soul mates? At the very least two peas in a pod.
I focused on texting David and his reply was prompt.
David: Sure, I’ll do it, so long as there’ll be champagne and models to ogle.
I grinned at his message and typed back.
Julian: Models young enough to be your daughter, yes, there’ll be plenty.
David: Great. Thanks for ruining it for me.
I looked to Suze. “He says he’ll do it.”
“Fantastic! Here, let’s exchange emails and I’ll send you everything you need.”
As Suze was emailing me all the information, I turned to Elodie and held out my hand. “Hello, I’m Julian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She stared at my hand like it had a venereal disease, then lifted her eyes to mine. Now that I was looking at her up close, there was something strange about her irises that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Elodie,” she mumbled, not taking my hand.
“Is everything all right?” Suze asked as she slid her phone back into her handbag.
“Yes, perfectly fine. I was just introducing myself to your very beautiful friend here.” Elodie’s cheeks went bright red, suffused with warmth as Rose’s book would describe it, and I couldn’t get my head around why she was being so incredibly awkward.
“Oh, do you hear that, Elodie. This beautiful man thinks you’re beautiful, too. Isn’t that something?” Suze chimed with a wink.
Elodie stood from her seat and gathered her things. “Uh, I’ve just remembered I have a meeting at work. I have to go.”
Quick as a flash she fled the café, leaving Suze and I frowning in her wake.
“I’m sorry. She’s not usually so abrupt,” Suze said.
I waved her away. “No worries. I guess I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Yes, and I look forward to meeting your friend. Please do send me a couple of pictures and his measurements so I can decide what outfits to put him in.”
“Will do. Do you need mine as well?”
She grinned and ran her eyes down my body. “No need. I already sized you up the moment you spilled your coffee.”
I chuckled at that. Quite like Elodie, Suze was my type of lady. At least, I’d thought Elodie was my type. Suze went, and I sat back down, wondering about Elodie’s sudden departure and personality one-eighty. Did I smell bad? Was it something I said? Did I remind her of a cheating ex? Really, it could’ve been anything, but disappointment still filled me. I thought that once we finally met, we’d get along like a house on fire.
Instead, she’d fled the house running and screaming.
Oh, well. Perhaps she’d turn up for Suze’s show this weekend. That would give me a second chance to win her over. I’d be my most charming self, and if all went to plan, she’d be mine before the night was through.
Chapter Two
Ellen
I’d never seen a more beautiful man in my life.
He was so pretty he could’ve been a girl, and I was a tongue-tied, sweaty, anxious mess the moment he introduced himself. What on earth was wrong with me?
Okay, there were many answers to that question. One of which was that on Tuesday mornings I put on a disguise and pretended to be someone I wasn’t. You know, the usual.
I was in a strange sort of denial. A part of me knew what I was doing was wrong, but I just couldn’t seem to give up my friendship with Suze. She looked up to me like I was a goddess, an expert man tamer who could have anyone I wanted. Little did she know, I was about as adept at flirting as a shark on dry land.
I was, however, an expert fantasist. I could make up a story like you wouldn’t believe, which was why Suze had no idea her pal Elodie was a fraud.
I never should’ve let things get this far, but I was addicted to the admiration. I’d always felt more at ease pretending to be someone else, but up until about six months ago, it had only ever been in the safety of my own mind.
I’d attended Gay Pride with my boss, Bernice, and her partner, Felicity. Bernice owned the Zigzag Bookshop, where I worked part-time. She invited me along and we went to see a drag show. There was a competition at the end for a makeover, and lo and behold, I won.
One of the most convincing female impersonators I ever saw remade me. I was transformed from a caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly when I stepped out of that dressing room with long red hair, green eyes, and clothing that fit tight to every inch of my body.
Weirdly, I’d never felt more myself.
Bernice and Felicity went home, while I went to a bar. I wasn’t the type
to go drinking alone, but in my disguise, I felt confident, fearless. If I didn’t have to be me, then I could be anyone. I didn’t have to fear rejection or worry about embarrassing myself.
At the bar was where I met Suze. She sat next to me, waiting for her husband to get out of a business meeting for their date night. At first, I was struck by how cool she was. She wore a leopard print miniskirt, a paisley top, and neon pink heels. Miraculously, she managed to pull off the mismatched look. Suze was one of those people who could wear a thrift shop outfit and make it look expensive.
She introduced herself and I shook her hand. I opened my mouth, and somehow, Elodie just flowed out of me. Even the way I spoke was different. I turned into a wise-talking, take no prisoners man-eater who was about as far away from the real me as you could get.
Who knew a wig, contact lenses, makeup, and a new outfit could achieve such miracles?
Or maybe I was developing some sort of personality disorder. Since I spent most of my days alone, I wouldn’t be surprised. Isolation could do strange things to people.
I thought it was harmless enough to lie, since we weren’t going to see each other again. But then she offered to exchange numbers. Before long we became Tuesday morning coffee buddies. It turned out Suze’s studio was only a ten-minute walk from my house, though thankfully she’d never asked to come visit. I was lucky she was always busy with work.
Still, I hated that I’d let things get this far, but I wasn’t ready to give her up yet. Having grown up in a house full of men, a female friend was a luxury I didn’t take for granted.
Then Mr. Tall, Dark, and Beautiful had to go spill his coffee on our table and I behaved like a speechless, inarticulate schoolgirl. All this time I’d been acting like men were putty in my hands. No wonder Suze was perplexed. And to top it all off, she offered for him to model at her fashion show. I’d been so looking forward to attending. I was going to step up my game and try to be Elodie in a larger social setting, but no way could I go now, not if he was going to be there.
There was something about him that flustered me, like if he looked too long, he’d see past my disguise. And I had a feeling not even a ridiculously expensive, handmade, human hair wig would fool him.
I dropped my keys on the entry table then wandered into the kitchen to say hello to my lovebirds, Skittles and Rainbow. I opened the window to let some fresh air in, then put the kettle on for tea. While it was boiling, I popped upstairs to remove my wig and makeup. Little by little my true self was revealed; light brown hair, big ole tortoiseshell glasses, pale freckled skin, brown eyes.
I invite you to meet Ellen Grant: hermit, tomboy, make-believe artist.
I grabbed a T-shirt and some leggings, relieved to get out of my super fashionable Elodie ensemble. Sure, it looked amazing, but it was about as comfortable as a straitjacket. I enjoyed the reaction I got when I wore sexy clothes, but I also adored the comfort of going casual. If I had to choose, I wasn’t sure I could give that up, even if I got to be magically transformed into Elodie for real.
When I went back down to the kitchen, I made myself a cup of peppermint tea and sat at my computer to check my emails. Working from home was the best, but it was also the worst.
It was the best because I didn’t have to deal with people, and that was also the reason why it was the worst. Isolation became a self-perpetuating cycle. The more you had of it, the more you needed it, and the less equipped you were to deal with normal, everyday interactions that others took in stride. That was why I forced myself to keep my part-time job at the bookshop. I certainly didn’t need the money, but I needed to practice my people skills.
I ignored several nagging emails about things I wasn’t ready to deal with yet and opened one from my brother, Nick. He and my other brother, Cameron, were twins, but they were as opposite as you could get. Nick was happy, charming, and generally pleasant to be around, while Cameron was grumpy, mistrustful, and often rude. He was one of those people who liked to claim they were always honest, but that was just an excuse for being mean. Anyway, I didn’t get to see either of them often since they lived back in my hometown of Torquay.
[email protected] to [email protected]
Subject: A visit from your marvellous brother ;-)
Hey Ellen!
I hope you’re doing good :-) Dad’s been asking for you. He says you better visit us soon or he’ll come to London and drag you home himself. Speaking of visits, Cameron’s going to be in the city for work next month and he was wondering if he could stay in your spare room? Give him a call and let him know.
Say hello to Skittles and Rainbow for me!
Love,
Nick
I sighed when I finished reading the email. From the subject line, I had hoped he was going to tell me he was coming to visit. Obviously, the “marvellous” part was sarcastic. He knew just as much as I did what a cranky bastard Cameron could be. Unfortunately, I didn’t have it in me to refuse him. I did have a very nice spare bedroom and I rarely had visitors. I should put it to use, even if my guest was my lesser preferred brother.
I typed out a reply.
[email protected] to [email protected]
Subject: RE: A visit from your marvellous brother ;-)
Dearest Nick,
You know as well as I do that Cameron is far from marvellous, but alas, he is my brother, so I won’t leave him to sleep on the streets. You can tell him I said yes. I’m not in the mood for a phone call with King Grump.
Skittles and Rainbow say they miss you.
Ellen <3
P.S. How’s everything been with Cruella Deville?
Cruella was our secret nickname for my dad’s girlfriend, Shayla. She was originally from London, but they started dating last year after she moved to Torquay for work. We called her Cruella because she was a bit of an ice-queen. She also had a real fox fur coat she wore in the winter that gave me the heebie-jeebies.
It didn’t take long for Nick’s reply.
[email protected] to [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: A visit from your marvellous brother ;-)
She’s been upping her game big-time. I popped over to the house last week to borrow Dad’s lawnmower and there were some suspicious noises coming from upstairs. At midday on a Tuesday no less! Definitely wants him to put a ring on it.
P.S. By suspicious noises I mean sex noises.
Lovely. Trust Nick to put me off my peppermint tea. I closed out my emails and started on some work I needed to get done, trying to put the image of my dad having sex out of my head.
The thought that I had to make up an excuse not to attend Suze’s fashion show hung heavy on my mind. Later on, I contemplated the screen of my phone as I whipped up some chicken and pasta for dinner. Chewing my lip, I picked it up and opened my messages to compose a text.
Elodie: Bad news. I have to work this weekend on a large project that’s due Monday. I’m not going to be able to see your show :-(
Suze: Noooo! Is there any way you can get out of it? The show doesn’t start until 7 pm, so you could still work during the day. Please, please, please. You’re my lucky charm, Elodie. I need you there. xxx.
Her reply made me feel bad, and guilt ate at me. I had to stop lying to her. Either Elodie needed to ghost her, or Ellen needed to come clean. The problem was, I was flattered she considered me her lucky charm. It was definitely a good feeling to be valued by someone like Suze, even if she didn’t know the truth.
I mulled things over for a second. Maybe I could go and simply avoid Julian Fairchild, beautiful specimen and thief of words. After a couple of minutes, I determined I had to go for Suze. Her friendship meant a lot to me, and yes, I was aware how messed up that was, but it was the truth.
Elodie: Let me see what I can do. I really don’t want to miss your show <3
Suze: YES! You’re the best. xxx.
The weekend rolled in too quickly. Before I knew it, I was donning my wig and contacts, squeezing myself into a forest gr
een contour dress and slipping my feet into four-inch heels. They brought my measly five foot four up to an elegant five eight. I was short, but I wasn’t small or dainty in any way. I carried an extra fifteen pounds or so thanks to my sedentary lifestyle and love of sugar. Luckily, the fashion industry saw fit to invent Spanx, which allowed me to mould my shape into something akin to curvaceous.
Whatever that meant.
I mean, we all had curves. It wasn’t like skinny people had square bottoms.
When I was all set, I called a cab to take me to the show. It was a little overwhelming when I stepped out into the media frenzy covering the event. A lot of buzz had been generated around Suze after a well-known actress started wearing her clothes and posting pictures to Instagram. I was excited for her.
I was also excited to be here as Elodie. Maybe I’d summon up the courage to flirt with a man.
I clutched my bag tightly, palms sweaty as I gave my name to the lady at the door with the guest list.
“Oh, you can go through this way,” she said, gesturing to a side entrance. “Mrs. Lee said to direct you to the backstage area. She wants to see you before the show starts.”
I swallowed tightly. “Great, thank you.”
I walked down the crowded corridor, full of half-dressed models and frazzled looking assistants. When I found Suze, she was handing a shirt to a topless middle-aged male model. He was handsome and in good shape for his age, with black hair and salt and pepper stubble. I wondered if maybe I should try to flirt with him later. An older model might be less intimidating than the young ones, right?
As soon as Suze spotted me, her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face.
“Elodie, you’re here! I’m so happy you came.” She threw her arms around my shoulders and hugged me tight.
“I couldn’t miss your show,” I told her, returning her smile.
“Come, let me introduce you to David. He’s Julian’s friend. Remember the guy from the coffee shop? I really lucked out stumbling upon him, let me tell you.”
Words got stuck in my throat as she ushered me over.