In Fashion

by Jody Klaire

“Ass?” Zoë rolled her eyes. “The whole bit about me grabbing her…butt…was fine?”

  Marge shrugged.

  “I would prefer if you don’t,” Susannah muttered and folded her arms. “Mum is not a piece of meat.”

  “No, she isn’t.” Kate narrowed her eyes. “I vote for a pair of boxers and a sports bra.”

  Zoë howled with laughter. Blanche grinned like she’d enjoy every second, and Susannah nodded in approval. “Thanks, Kate. At least you respect her.” She held up her phone. “Tweet comment. Susannah from Kensington says, ‘put some clothes on, Mum.’” She wagged it at her.

  “You call shoving me in men’s clothing respect?” She raised an eyebrow and pulled up her trousers, much to the dislike of the crew, if the moans were anything to go by.

  “I call covering you up and showing you that it doesn’t matter what shape you are, you’re a human being who deserves to be talked to not ogled.” Susannah fixed on Blanche. “That goes for you too.”

  Kate nodded to her. “Then let’s get you in some proper underwear.”

  “Cut and move to adverts.” Marge rubbed at her neck. Her phone rang. She handed it to one of the cameramen. “Tell John I’m busy.”

  Kate’s eyes glinted with hurt again. “You’re too good for my ideas?”

  Clearly, her comment on men’s clothing had hit a sore spot. “I was not making a reference to you.”

  “Yes, you were.” Kate folded her arms.

  “I was not.” She folded her own arms. The crew oohed. Hmm. Probably best to put her shirt back on. “There’s no need to pout.”

  “I’m not pouting.” Kate ripped the shirt from the floor and threw it at her. Cheeks were a little flushed there. “You think clothes change where you come from?”

  Oh, that was low. Someone had read the book. “They do.”

  “They don’t. I know plenty of people from council estates, and they are lovely.” She glared and shoved the shirt around Darcy’s shoulders. “They are not that bad.”

  “Where I lived was.” She batted Kate’s hands away and took the shirt.

  “It produced you.” Kate motioned to her like she wanted to slap her. “I’d say that gives them a head start on most places.”

  And she wanted to kiss her. Irritating. “You’re just biased.”

  “Yes, I am.” Kate threw her hands in the air. “Now get in there and put on boxers.”

  “Don’t boss me around.” She yanked her shirt closed.

  “Why, not so much fun when it’s you?” Kate grabbed her arm and dragged her to the changing room like she wanted to throw her inside. Yet desire ignited in her eyes.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she snapped and ripped the door back. It slammed to the wall and dropped from the top hinge. “See what you did?”

  “That’s right, blame it on me.” Kate shoved her at the next changing room.

  “I am; you were the one swinging on it.” Darcy stomped in through the door and slammed it shut in Kate’s face. No way was she coming in. She leaned her head to the door. How was she going to keep it professional? How?

  Kate folded her arms as she waited outside the changing room. Darcy was infuriating. How could anyone who looked as incredible as her think she had a thing wrong with her? Who’d done that to her? Was it modelling? She hammered on the door. “Are you sleeping in there or something?”

  Zoë exchanged a glance with Marge. Yeah, she was moody.

  “Calm yourself, Kate,” Darcy said in her unruffled tone. “I will be worth the wait.”

  Kate turned and glared at the doorway. Rub it in. “Just get out here.” Wow, had they swapped roles. She stopped. Maybe Darcy was nervous or something? “I know you’ll look wonderful.”

  “Don’t assume I have any issues with wearing ridiculous items of clothes. I was a catwalk model.” She said it with a smugness.

  “You’re a supermodel, and you’re still modelling.” Kate hammered on the door again. “The camera is waiting.”

  Darcy pulled the door back and strode out with utter confidence, all sheer charisma and female grace. Her body looked fluid, even more toned and… Oh, she made boxers look…wow.

  Darcy reached out and pushed Kate’s mouth closed. “Do try to find some composure.”

  Where from?

  “As you see, the tightness of these boxer shorts pulls across my thighs, drawing attention to them even when a darker colour often fades out the area and lighter colours draw your eye.” Darcy turned like she would on a catwalk and looked over her shoulder. “But, even in ill-fitting clothes, it’s about confidence.”

  Zoë murmured her agreement. “You wear the outfit, not the other way around.”

  Blanche leaned on Zoë’s shoulder. “I think they work for you. Pair of boy shorts would be better, but not bad.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow like she was genuinely touched.

  Susannah covered her eyes. “Mum, do we have to see you so naked?” She turned to Marge. “Put some clothes on her.”

  Darcy chuckled. “The bra flattens my bust, which is important support for running and other activities, yes.” She hoisted up her breasts. “But they don’t give me shape.”

  “They give you plenty of shape. What are you on about?” Kate moved her hands and prodded the toned, firm stomach. “Washboard.” She stroked her hand over Darcy’s shoulders. “Elegant.” She hoisted Darcy’s breast up. “Doesn’t matter how you dress these, they look good.” She snapped her hands away and tugged at the shorts. “And these make your legs look athletic.”

  “This makes me look androgynous.” Darcy met her eyes, the glimmer of a pulsing desire there. “You would make a fantastic designer.”

  Kate frowned. Was Darcy right? She looked to Zoë, who nodded. “Sorry, honey, she’s got you there.”

  Shit.

  “You look sporty.” She folded her arms. “And less like you’re selling yourself.”

  Darcy arched her eyebrow. Yes, they both knew full well how much she liked the lingerie. Rub it in again.

  “Anyway,” she muttered and handed over a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “Stick them on.”

  Darcy took them, flicked them off the hanger, and pulled them on like she was used to it. Yes, she must have been a dummy for a lot of designers. Baggy jeans slung low on the waist and a tight T-shirt.

  “And I’m now extremely androgynous.” She turned to Kate. “These jeans pull the eye to my stomach, which is flat, and has the same effect as the cleavage.” She ran her fingers along the top.

  Kate swallowed.

  “The baggy shape does cancel out my thighs, and the side pockets create a masculine line.” She smiled like she was pleased at Kate’s choice. “You do shorten my legs, though, and, no doubt this goes with a flat shoe or a boot?”

  Shit. She had her again.

  Darcy smiled that patronising smile. “The T-shirt you’ve chosen is tight to my biceps and triceps, which accentuates the muscle tone there and elongates my shoulders, again androgenising my form.” She tapped her chest. “The breasts make an appearance, but they aren’t your focus, because they are pushed down.” She pointed to her arms and her neck. “But these are.”

  Zoë squinted like she was trying to think, or maybe baggy jeans hurt her to look at. “You pull it off, though.”

  Blanche cocked her head. “You really, really do.”

  Zoë raised an eyebrow at her.

  Blanche shrugged. “What? Like that’s a surprise?”

  Susannah shook her head. “I don’t like it.”

  “And why is that?” Darcy smiled at her like she knew.

  “You look as…on display as you did before. I just don’t get why.” She frowned and looked to Zoë.

  “Because she’s not attracting a guy but pulling out the traits a woman is interested in.” Zoë pulled her mouth to the side. �
�I prefer the cleavage.”

  The crew murmured their obvious agreement.

  “I’d rather people just looked at you because you had something nice to say,” Susannah muttered, then held up her phone. “Tweet question: Sally from Hertfordshire wants to know if you feel different in those clothes.”

  Darcy nodded. “Yes. I feel more assertive. It makes me feel like I have a dominant presence.” She fixed Kate with a charming smile. “But I feel shorter.”

  “You don’t look it.” Kate chewed her lip. She liked Darcy in the outfit as much as she liked her in the bra and pants. She looked good. She didn’t care what she was in, or not in; she just wanted to kiss her.

  Darcy’s eyes softened like she knew it. “But it’s about feeling too.”

  “What’s wrong with androgynous?” she mumbled. If she didn’t say something, she was going to grab her and kiss her until someone dragged her off.

  “Nothing.” Darcy smiled and stroked her cheek with the pad of her warm thumb. “If I feel good, if I am attracting who I wish to attract, and I have confidence, then these clothes are as sexy as lacy bras.”

  Oh, great. Back to lacy bras. Was she blushing again? She touched her cheeks, and Darcy chuckled.

  “I’m sure, if the audience wants it enough, Zoë could explain all the rules of making androgynous look incredible.” She motioned to Zoë. “She is the poster girl for it.”

  Zoë winked at her. “You got it.”

  “Then let’s make Darcy androgynous.” Kate folded her arms. She didn’t know why she was saying it, but it felt…childish.

  “If you’d like, Kate.” Darcy smiled at the camera. “I’m sure Blanche will happily model for some aspects?”

  Blanche nodded. “Yeah, I will. I’d love Zoë to dress me.”

  Zoë beamed at her. “You would?”

  “Yup, honey. Gay me up.” She grinned and held Darcy’s gaze. Was that a wobble? Darcy was smiling, but it was that practiced smile. “Scared you can’t pull it off next to me?”

  Darcy narrowed her eyes. “You’re on.”

  “Cut!” Marge grinned like she’d cheer. “What are the tweets saying, Susannah?”

  Susannah stared at her phone. “The LGBTQIA…” She looked to Zoë. “Did I get that right?”

  Zoë nodded. “You got it.”

  “Well, the entire community just woke up. It’s crazy trending again. Hashtag Gay Me Up.” She wheezed out a breath and looked up at Darcy. “They are loving the fact you’re being so supportive.”

  Darcy shrugged. “Supportive? I thought you felt I was fake?” She turned and strode back into the changing room and shut the door.

  “I’m not sure what you are,” Susannah mumbled and stuck her phone in her pocket. “Other than messed up.”

  “I’d say beautiful,” Kate whispered to the door and smiled over at Susannah. A picnic-blanket dinner was needed to cheer her up.

  “You’re biased,” Darcy whispered back, but her tone wasn’t snappy this time, or patronising, but a raw, cracked sound like she was holding back tears.

  “Yeah, I am.” She placed her hand on the door, wanting to push it open and hug Darcy more than anything else. She’d read the book. It hurt reading what she’d been through and heartened her that Darcy had used her pain to give Susannah a great home. Anyone reading the book would think she was a hero. Was she? “I love you.”

  Darcy shuddered out a breath. “I’ve no idea why.”

  “Because you look good in boxers.” She pushed off the door and strode away before she did something she wanted to, and Darcy’s blurted, breathy, bubbling laugh rang out. Sounded better each time she heard it.

  Chapter 33

  Darcy hurried from the cab, pulling her coat up against the sleety rain. The large house had two cars in the drive and a work van. Hopefully, they would be in. She knocked on the door and tried to squeeze under the mini-porch roof.

  “Lo?” A guy with a shaved head, blue eyes, and a bodybuilder’s physique looked her up and down, then raised his eyebrows. “Kate’s not here.”

  “Is Mildred?” She glanced up at the rain. It was getting heavier.

  “Yeah.” He pulled open the door. “I’ll call her now…” He strolled off down the hallway. Guess she’d let herself in. “Luv, Darcy’s here for you.”

  Mildred laughed. “Pull the other one.”

  He strode into the kitchen as Darcy shut the door behind her. “Nah, she’s really here.”

  Mildred poked her head out. She had the hair dye foil on, a cigarette on the go, and some kind of face cream. “I’m not really presentable.”

  “I see women looking far worse.” She strode into the kitchen and smiled at the man who leaned against the fridge. “Are you Kate’s stepdad?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Good.” She pulled out a chair and sat next to a staring Mildred. “I would like to know what you are thinking about Kate.”

  Mildred sucked on her cigarette. “She’s outspoken. I don’t know why she put you in that position, but when she gets something in her head…” She flicked ash into a brimming ashtray. “I don’t know what to say to the girl.”

  “I mean, I know she’s a pretty kid,” the stepdad said, “but she’s not exactly your league, you know.” He held up his hands when Mildred glared at him. “I just mean, you’re famous. You holiday in exclusive places because they want you to be seen there. Kate is a security guard.”

  “Kate could pull in punters.” Mildred sucked on her cigarette again. “She doesn’t want to.”

  “No, exactly. She wants to dress like a bloke.” He rolled his eyes and picked up a cup from the side. “She could be a pretty thing.”

  Darcy leaned onto the table, trying not to inhale fumes. “I love her.”

  Mildred nearly swallowed her cigarette, and the stepdad spat out whatever tar was in his mug.

  “I have every confidence that Kate could sell just about anything with her smile.” She fixed on Mildred’s eyes. “I can’t do that to her. She doesn’t understand why, but Mikey is suffering because she was truthful. I’m guessing you will have experienced the same?”

  Mildred put her cigarette out. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  The stepdad folded his muscled arms. “Anyone says a word to me, and I’ll knock them sideways.”

  “What happens when it’s cameras outside your door, because Kate happens to have been rash in something she says, or people throwing things over your car because they don’t like that Kate is living with another woman, or someone targeting Mikey because they think it’ll get them attention?” She stared at the table. Swish kitchen but the table was cheap and covered with cigarette burns. “I don’t want her to miss Mikey. I’m not going to move to Cardiff.”

  “Why?” The stepdad wagged his mug about. “What’s the issue with Cardiff?”

  “It’s not home to me.” She smiled at him. “I’m not saying I won’t visit, but I love London. I love where I live, and Susannah is happy there.”

  “So we can visit you too,” Mildred said, pulling another cigarette out of her pack. She gave one to the stepdad, who took it and then offered the packet to Darcy.

  “I don’t smoke, thank you.” She held up her hand. The passive smoke was going to take months to clear out of her lungs.

  “Thought that’s how you all kept thin,” Mildred said, lighting another cigarette.

  “Some do. I prefer exercise.” She had always hated it. Her mother smoked. Chain-smoked, like Mildred, one big haze of tobacco and chemicals. “I offered to protect her. That we could have a relationship as long as it was discreet.”

  Mildred laughed. “Oh, I bet she took that well.”

  “Yes,” she mumbled. “I hurt her, but I cannot put her, Susannah…Mikey…you…every one of Kate’s friends and ex-friends…and myself through it.”

 
“Kate deserves better,” the stepdad said, then shrugged as Mildred stared at him. “Hey, I’m not stupid. The girl went through it with that idiot.”

  “Bennie,” Mildred said as if Darcy wouldn’t know.

  “And Laura?” She had prised the rest of the information out of Marge. Marge hadn’t been an easy witness, but the threat of a lip wax had paid off.

  Mildred scowled.

  “And it’s Laura’s children bullying Mikey?” She’d assumed it was. It would make sense.

  “They are behind it, yes.” Mildred sucked on her cigarette. “One of Mikey’s friends told their mother, who went and said to Laura to keep a handle on her kids, and it got nasty.” She sighed. “At least that’s what we can tell from the gossip. You know how it is.”

  Darcy nodded. “Which is why I worry.”

  “Look, the girl’s already told everyone she loves you,” the stepdad said, lighting up. “So what difference will it make if you say you love her?”

  “Right now, she’s a contestant on a show that is charmed by some famous face.” She didn’t know how to explain it. The celebrity lifestyle was so insular. “In a few months, that fades, things go back to normal, and people will forget.” She met Mildred’s eyes. “If I tell people I love her, it changes. She’s no longer just a contestant riling me up, she’s a hot topic. Her picture becomes worth money, her past becomes fodder for prying eyes.” She pulled out her phone and held it up. “She was mobbed on the riverbank the other day. This will happen all the time. She won’t be a security guard in a pencil factory anymore; she’ll be Darcy McGregor’s girlfriend…partner…wife.”

  “But she’ll be happy?” The stepdad said and sipped at his mug, cigarette inches from his eyes. “She’s not happy here.”

  Mildred nodded. “And if you’re not considering it, why you making sure we are behind her?”

  Darcy frowned. “I’m actually here to ask if I can go into Mikey’s school and do what I do best…then whisk him to London and keep him there until we have a break in filming.” She put on her best smile. “It will keep him safe from bullies, and Kate could do with some assistance.”

  Mildred eyed her. “I’m not sure I believe that you’re not checking we’re okay with you and Kate.”