In Fashion

by Jody Klaire

  “Are we getting milk?” Mikey asked from somewhere down the hall. “I’ll get Kate-oh.”

  Darcy pulled away, put her fingers to her lips.

  Was it her or did they kiss…a lot? Darcy wouldn’t kiss her if she was having an affair with Zoë, right? Why had Darcy kissed her? She shuddered out a breath. Why did it feel so…wow? “You like the eyelashes or the button?”

  Darcy pursed her lips as Mikey galloped in.

  “Kate-oh.” He grinned. “We’re not getting milk. Snap scum outside.” He booed at the window.

  “Yes.” Darcy’s smile was flustered. “Yes, they are.” She turned and booed at the window too.

  Susannah strolled in and raised her eyebrows. “You heckling the curtains, Mum?”

  Mikey giggled, then looked up at Kate. “You make-up messy.” He tutted, paused. His eyes went blank, and he wandered off.

  Susannah and Darcy looked at her. Oh shit. Lipstick again. She shoved her hand over her mouth, but Susannah raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Should tell Luigi about that.” She was focused on Darcy, eyebrow raised.

  “Yes. He…needs to be less sloppy,” Darcy mumbled, her cheeks as flushed as her neck. She strode into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge. “Oh look, we’re out of milk. I’ll go get some.”

  Darcy strode at her, and Kate shuffled out of the way. “What about the cameras?”

  “I’ll…I’ll jog.” Darcy hurried out of the door.

  Susannah flashed a cheeky smile, then glanced Kate up and down. “Seriously, if you’re going to snog, you need to carry a hanky.”

  Kate shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting it. I’m not sure why we were.”

  “I do.” Susannah grinned. “She never snogged Marshall.”

  “I doubt she would have done it around you if she did.” Kate cleared her throat. How did she have these conversations?

  “Didn’t need to. I’ve never seen her that flustered before.” She glanced her up and down again, then grinned and strolled off down the hall.

  “Ever?” Surely Zoë had her blushing?

  Susannah stopped outside her door. “Ever.”

  Kate leaned against the counter with a groan and touched her fingers to the greasy remnants of lipstick. Now, why did that make her grin from ear to ear?

  Chapter 25

  How different everything felt around Kate and her calm smile. Darcy had been doing the show for years. It was safe, rewarding, easy on her. Each segment was for a good reason, and the rehab was no different. She took her blossoming patient to somewhere public and got to work on body language. Namely, it was to attract men, which had been fine, but now she was faced with Kate attracting a man, and her stomach clenched like she’d had a marathon Pilates session.

  Maybe she should have talked to Kate instead of kissing her? Maybe she should have asked why Kate was kissing her, why Kate looked at her that way, but it was her fault; it had to be. Kate was in a vulnerable position. She must be awed by the program or the cameras, or maybe being around Darcy and Zoë was influencing her. Yes, Kate hadn’t said anything about relationships. She’d been flustered in the examination when meeting a man had been mentioned; she’d been defensive, that humour creeping up when they’d talked about the rehab…and Kate had said herself the kisses were down to nerves. Darcy drummed her nails on her thigh. Yes, it was her fault; Kate was just responding to what she wanted. Must be.

  Mikey was back in school for the week, so it was just the four of them: Marge was quiet up front with the driver. Susannah was on her tablet. Kate was opposite her in a strapless dress in purple and a large showpiece necklace, her hair styled to perfection, the feathering drawing out her green eyes and strong cheekbones. Kate smiled, her eyes twinkling with a nervous energy as she dropped her gaze to Darcy’s lips. It was just a reaction to nerves, to being in a strange environment. It was. Kate cocked her eyebrow as if wondering what was going through her head, and Darcy clung to her jacket like it would save her.

  Marge glanced over her shoulder at Susannah. Susannah nodded, her expression resolute.

  “More press?” Darcy asked, trying not to look too uneasy. John had called three times during the day, saying that Zoë and Blanche only exacerbated the gossip, because it was clear Blanche felt threatened. He wanted a clear statement. She was not giving any such quarter.

  “No. I just picked the restaurant. They have been really supporting you this show,” Susannah said, her smile tight. “I want to show them you pay attention to the people who love you.”

  Darcy smiled. “There are many out there who love me.” And they had impeccable taste. “But shows of support always look good.” And she needed to get John back on side.

  Susannah rolled her eyes. “I knew the fake had to be lurking in there somewhere.”

  “We’re here. Ready?” Marge pulled out her camera, then nodded to the crew outside. “And rolling.”

  Darcy got out behind Kate and Susannah. “Rehabilitation is the way to make your clothes work for you. It’s not just what you put on but how you wear it.” She flashed a quick smile in Kate’s direction while keeping her gaze on the camera. If she didn’t look at Kate, maybe it would be less painful? “Let’s show you off.”

  Susannah squinted as flashes went off all around them—press had arrived. She nodded to Marge, who led them into a small restaurant.

  “Ms McGregor, it’s a pleasure to see you. We have our best table ready,” a large woman with short dark hair said. Waistcoat? Very retro. Went with the wide-legged trousers and well-tailored shirt. Someone was a fan.

  “It’s a pleasure to be here…” She looked to Susannah. A name would be helpful.

  “Seren,” Susannah said with a charming smile. “Mum wasn’t sure if you were Jemma. She keeps getting you mixed up.”

  Seren laughed. “We’re pretty much interchangeable.” She glanced at Kate, then did a double take, and cleared her throat. “And you are Ms Bonvilston. Good to see you.”

  Kate shook her hand with an anxious smile. “Weird that you know my surname. My boss can’t even remember it.”

  Seren laughed. “Oh, everyone is talking about you.” She winked, then glanced at Darcy. She led them through gaggles of wide-eyed customers to a secluded table at the back. “Jemma is working on something special.” She glanced at Kate. “No gluten.”

  “None for me either.” Darcy smiled and took a seat. “Or Susannah.”

  “No gluten all round it is.” Seren left, and Marge and Susannah took up a table across the walkway from them. The crew took up spaces at strategic tables. They would be as discreet as they could with huge cameras.

  “Why no gluten?” Kate whispered, then chewed on her lip. “Am I allowed to ask that on TV?”

  Kate could ask anything she liked as long as she kept that gorgeous smile on her face. “Of course you are. I gave it up with Susannah.”

  Susannah nodded. “Better for her figure.”

  “Or a show of support?” Kate asked and grinned over at Susannah. “Couldn’t imagine anyone giving up gluten for me.”

  Susannah glanced at Darcy, studying her, then dropped her gaze to her tablet. “Tweet question.”

  “We haven’t done anything yet,” Darcy muttered. How could Susannah think it was just about her figure? She let out a chuckle to cover the tone. Nerves. Snappy on camera was not good.

  “Ivy from Berkshire says that if she gives up gluten…” Susannah snickered, then laughed. “If she gives up gluten, will Kate marry her?” She shrugged. “She’s eighty-four.”

  Kate stared at her. “She’s drooling over me? Are you sure she doesn’t mean Darcy?”

  Darcy leaned on her fist. How could she blame Ivy? “Do we need rehab at all? We’ll just marry you off to Ivy.”

  Kate let out a breathy chuckle. “Ivy, you don’t have to give anything up. You’re fantastic as you are.”

 
; Who needed help with being on TV? Kate didn’t seem nervous, but then when had she ever? It was only the kissing that showed it. And why had Kate kissed her? Why would a woman into gay men find that helped to calm nerves? And why had it felt beyond a kiss somehow?

  “Well, Ivy, you’ll have to wait until I’m finished with her.” She tensed. Sounded proprietary. Susannah raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Marge. “We need to work on body language.” She fussed with her napkin. Ignore the flush; ignore Kate’s twinkling eyes. “The way she carries herself may be giving off the wrong signals to Mr Right.”

  Susannah and Marge exchanged another glance.

  Kate blinked a few times.

  Why was she looking shocked? Didn’t she think Darcy could find her a man? She could pull a man. “You show insecurity in…odd…ways.” Pleasant ways that involved slow kisses filled with aching need. “You tighten up when men are around.” Then got mouthy. At least to her, but she wasn’t a man or making an approach. “And make little eye contact.” With men, anyway. Not unless she was bantering with them. “So by giving you practice, you can attract a man.”

  Susannah held up her phone. “Ivy says forget the body language, she makes fruit cake. She can make gluten-free fruit cake.”

  Kate snorted with laughter. “Cheers, Ivy.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes. “So how do you approach someone you fancy?”

  Kate sighed. “Badly, by the sound of it.”

  “Do you have moves?” How could any man worry about body language when Kate looked so incredible—and did even in a security uniform?

  “No. I haven’t needed any. I dated in my social circle.” Kate stumbled over her words and stared at her hands. Heartbreak? Regret?

  “And how did you know it was more than friendship?” Some previous patients bawled at this point, but Kate just shrugged.

  “They came onto me,” she said as she studied the tablecloth.

  Not helpful. She looked around. “See this gentleman here. How would you signal that you liked him and were happy for him to come over?”

  Kate eyed her, then the guy. He was rugged with designer stubble and big pec muscles. Yes, he’d look good next to her. Jerk.

  “Try it.” She hoped her tone stayed calmer than she felt. The man sat at a table with three other men.

  Kate shook her head, a bemused smile on her face, then got up and strode over—not elegantly—and within seconds the men were laughing with her as she thumbed over her shoulder. Then two of the men started feeding each other dessert. Ah.

  “Get back here,” she snapped, and Kate strode back over. “When you’re in a dress, you do not stride like you’re in uniform.” Had she listened to Zoë at all?

  “Sorry.” Kate plonked down into her seat. “He’s not interested.”

  “Quite.” She fixed on her. “You don’t stride over; he has to come to you.” And any man with eyes…who was attracted to women…would swan over. He’d flash a charming smile and say some bland line. Kate would blush and gaze up at him… And now she wanted to poke some imaginary suitor? Wonderful. “You catch his eye, hold it…beckon him to you with that smile.” She held Kate’s eyes, smiled, and dropped her head to the side, feeding her hand through her hair. “Could you doubt what I wanted?”

  Kate’s eyes deepened, her necklace bouncing with her breathing, and she cleared her throat.

  Darcy’s pulse thudded.

  Marge coughed.

  She flicked her gaze to the water glass and tapped Kate’s warm hand. “Your turn.”

  “You’re not a guy, though,” Kate whispered with a sultry smile, her gaze on Darcy’s lips.

  “Just pretend I am.” She swallowed the ache of it. Trust her to fall in love with a woman who would more likely enjoy a candlelit dinner with the men on the far table.

  Wait—what? Had she just thought that? No, no, no. Kate glanced at Marge and Susannah. No. She hadn’t just thought that. She couldn’t think that. Nope, no way.

  “Just make eyes at me, woman,” she snapped and tapped Kate’s hand again, wanting to grab it, to hold it, to run her thumb over the elegant long fingers and… Breathe. “Stop being difficult.”

  Kate raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes. I’m bossy. Get on with it.” And it hurt she had to push. Hurt that her heart was pumping so hard, that Kate was there, so close, so beautiful, yet could never be hers.

  “Alright...” Kate fixed her with a smouldering gaze that held her there, then dropped to her lips—Kate licked her own. That potent gaze raked over her cleavage, then flicked back to her eyes with that look. The look that made her come undone.

  Oh shit. Darcy shuddered out her breath. Why was Kate single? Who resisted that? She couldn’t. She wanted to yank her across the table…or onto it…or… Oh dear. “Yes, well… That’s great.”

  Kate raised an eyebrow, still gazing at her, calling to her, pulling her to lean across.

  “No issues with eye contact, then,” she squeaked, picked up her napkin, and flapped it around. Torture. That’s what this was—torture. She looked to Susannah. Hopefully she’d scowl or tell her off for looking at Kate in such a way but, no, Susannah chewed on her lip as she stared at her tablet.

  “Tweet question?” Darcy asked just to focus on something other than diving across the table.

  “Er…” Susannah exchanged yet another glance with Marge.

  “Out with it.” Darcy scowled. She needed questions.

  “Miles from Dover asks if it wouldn’t be easier if Kate just focused…on you.” Susannah wheezed out a breath. “He says you make a hot couple.”

  Oh shit, even Miles from flipping Dover could see her drooling? What would Kate’s mother think? She trusted Darcy to help her daughter, and what? She was making a fool of herself. A complete fool. Panic thudded through her and she stood. “Cut.”

  Kate grabbed for her hand. “He’s joking.”

  “Move to Zoë and Blanche’s piece on lighting.” Marge lowered the camera, studying her. “Darcy?”

  “I can’t… I have… I feel unwell.” She hurried from the cameras and closed herself in the bathroom. She felt…unwell…yes, or maybe a better term would be lovesick. She slid down the door with a thud. Lovesick… Love…. Oh shit.

  Chapter 26

  Kate fiddled with the tablecloth, not sure what to make of Darcy hurrying off. She looked distressed. Yeah, it had been intense staring into her eyes; it had been romantic, but nothing too obvious. Why had it freaked Darcy out so much? Hadn’t she been with Zoë for years? Hadn’t she let Zoë kiss her in public? Like anyone watching would think Darcy would look at her.

  “I should go check on her,” Susannah whispered, chewing on her lip. She looked at the camera crew, who had given up on waiting for Darcy to come back and were eating the feast of delicious food Seren and Jemma had provided.

  “She’ll need to be back out here soon,” Marge said, covering the receiver on her phone with one hand and jotting notes with the other. “John wants us back live. We have a filler running now, but we need to have a live round-up.” She winced and pulled the phone away from her ear. “We need some recorded footage here too.”

  Susannah nodded and went to get up, only for Zoë to stroll in and take up a seat opposite Kate. “You got me instead. Darcy called me. She has a stomach bug, and she doesn’t want the owners to think it’s their food.”

  Sketchy at best. Kate fiddled with the tablecloth, twirling the strands around her finger. Zoë met her eyes and leaned in as Marge and the camera crew rushed to set up. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart.”

  Then why did it feel that way?

  Susannah glanced in the direction of the bathroom again, and Zoë reached across the gap and took her hand. “She’s gone home. You’re stuck with me and Blanche for the night.”

  “I should be there for her.” Susannah’s scowl was all
Darcy in a temper.

  Zoë squeezed her hand. “No. Trust me that it’s better you just let her figure it out.” She sighed and turned to Kate as Marge picked up her phone again.

  “What do you mean, she’s around Gregory Hampton’s house?” Marge snapped, then glared at Zoë. “She is meant to be sick.” She pulled the phone away. “What is going on?”

  “You played her, and now you get a show. Hampton’s been fishing for attention for months.” Zoë sighed and held onto Susannah’s hand as she tried pulling free. “So let’s get this round-up filmed so I can explain to my wife why I’ve come running…again.”

  Kate rubbed at the tablecloth again, then nodded. Why had what Zoë said shot searing hot pain through her chest? Why did her defeated tone make Kate feel so…helpless? “She did this to you?”

  Zoë smiled a sad smile, heartbreak in her eyes.

  “And rolling,” Marge said with a growl.

  “So, Kate here is a lady, and I know way more about pulling the ladies,” Zoë said to the camera, full, dazzling smile on display like she hadn’t had that raw hurt in her eyes only seconds before. “Darcy has handed over to the expert.”

  Seren bustled over with the food, then stopped and blushed from ear to ear. Oh, she was definitely a Zoë Windermere fan. “I hope the gluten-free version is okay?”

  Zoë flashed her a charming smile. “Honey, it’s my job to keep healthy and looking good. Gluten-free is the way to go.”

  Susannah rolled her eyes, and for the first time, Kate understood why—fake. Hadn’t they just seen Zoë chomping on donuts not long ago? The front presented, no matter the feeling inside, was completely fake.

  “So, what am I doing so wrong that no man would bother looking at me?” Kate asked and thunked back into her chair. She couldn’t be bothered with this, show or no show.

  “Oh, honey.” Zoë let out a bellowing laugh. “FYI, viewers, Darcy seems to think that good old Kate here likes guys…” She rolled her eyes. “Poor thing hasn’t a clue that Kate’s ex just had a guy’s name.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “She does?” Hadn’t kissing Darcy given her a slight clue that she might be into women?