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The Imperfection of Swans

Page 15

by Brandon Witt


  “That was nice of you.”

  Even in the darkness, he could see Kevin’s blush. He shrugged and waved Casper off. “I don’t know. There’s just something about walking past someone and not even acknowledging their existence. I know there’s lots of arguments about it being bad to give people like her money, that it hurts more than it helps. I can’t wade into all that. It’s overwhelming. I just know it makes me feel good to give sometimes.”

  Casper didn’t say anything at first, a different thought playing in the back of his mind.

  “I guess that makes it a pretty selfish act, doesn’t it?”

  “No. That’s not what I was thinking.” Casper was still trying to find the right words, but then just decided to say it like it was. “Do you feel guilty about the wedding shop?”

  Kevin’s jaw clinched, and he headed toward their hotel once more. “Sometimes, yes.”

  “I thought so.” Casper stuffed his hands into his pockets. He’d forgotten gloves, and the April night was colder than he’d expected. “Why?”

  It was about twenty steps before Kevin replied. “I just feel a little frivolous at times. And too lucky. Not everyone can live their dreams. I can, or at least try. I don’t have kids I have to worry about, and I have my wonderful family giving so much to make this happen. So many people do not have any of that.”

  “But that doesn’t make it bad.” One of Casper’s mom’s “fears,” as she called them, when he came out, was that the gay “lifestyle” Casper was choosing would make him selfish and shallow. While he couldn’t imagine either of Kevin’s moms being the source of this emotion for Kevin, it did feel familiar to him. “You know, I’ve often noticed that there are two types of people. Those who wait on their dreams and just expect them to fall into their laps, and those who work their asses off for their dreams. You’re the second kind. And there’s a lot to be proud of in that.”

  Kevin shrugged again. “I guess so. But we haven’t exactly made it yet. There’s not too much to be proud of.”

  Casper stopped him by grasping his shoulder and having Kevin face him. “Yes, there is. It takes guts to leap. Whether you make it or not.”

  Kevin just looked at him, a guarded expression on his face.

  “You would feel less guilty if this failed, wouldn’t you?”

  Kevin shook his head and then considered. “I would feel guilty because of letting my moms and the aunts down. And you. But I guess I will also feel guilty if I make it. If this crazy dream of a wedding dress shop comes true. Like, why me? When I already have so much? Why me?”

  “Because you leapt! Because you were brave enough to take a leap of faith and then work your ass off.”

  “Yeah, but other people leap and work their asses off and their dreams don’t come true.”

  He was more than a pretty face, this Kevin Bivanti. Maybe he was worth crying over in a bathroom. “Because of fate. We have to have both. Fate and hard work. And the willingness to leap.”

  The look in Kevin’s eyes changed in some unnamable way.

  And then there was heat.

  Casper wasn’t sure who stepped closer, but one of them had. Maybe both. Their chests touched. He could feel Kevin’s breath on his lips.

  “Casper….”

  He’d never loved the sound of his name so much.

  Their lips had nearly touched when a scratchy, irritation-filled voice caused them to jump apart.

  “Here, take these!”

  Casper backed away from the woman in confusion.

  She hobbled after him, her closed hand outstretched, shaking toward him. “Take these. I don’t like these.”

  His brain began to function. It was the homeless woman. He held out his hand, palm up. “Okay.” Dear Lord, he didn’t want to know what she was going to give him.

  She moved in a few steps closer. Close enough to change the scent on the night’s fresh air. “I don’t like these,” she repeated, and dropped some shiny objects into his hand. As soon as she did, she shuffled around and headed back from where she’d come.

  Casper peered at his hand. Four pennies.

  Kevin peered at his hand as well. Casper had forgotten he was there. “Huh. Must not like pennies.”

  Casper glanced at the woman, who was still walking away, then back at the pennies before beginning to laugh. “I had no idea what I was about to get in my hand.”

  “No kidding. She must have thought you were me, since we’re the same size and everything.”

  “Yeah, she must have.” Casper held out the pennies toward Kevin. “I believe these belong to you, sir.”

  Kevin made a small yet exaggerated bow. “I’m feeling generous. I bequeath those shillings upon you.”

  “Practicing for Broadway already?” Casper let out another laugh and stuffed the pennies into his pocket. “You’re a dork.”

  They were only a block away from their hotel when Casper halted.

  Kevin paused beside him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Casper cocked his head at Kevin. “Didn’t you only give her bills?”

  Kevin’s eyes widened, and they both got lost to laughter.

  NOT LONG after, Casper lay on one of the room’s double beds, sleepy but too worked up to actually fall asleep.

  Kevin was showering before bed, and he was singing songs from Wicked at the top of his lungs. Casper was only slightly worried one of their hotel neighbors would complain. Kevin sounded as if he was enjoying himself too much for Casper to want to interrupt. He was a surprisingly good singer, even hitting that high note in “Defying Gravity.”

  He needed to fall asleep before Kevin got out of the shower. Avoid any strange interactions.

  It seemed they weren’t going to talk about the kiss that nearly happened. God, he wished it had.

  Maybe he wouldn’t be sleeping alone in the bed if it had.

  Although… who knew how badly that could have messed up things.

  Maybe fate sometimes takes the form of an old woman with an aversion to pennies.

  KEVIN

  ECSTASY. WATCHING the wedding-gown-clad models sashay down the runway was ecstasy. It was as perfectly wonderful as Kevin thought it would be. With each new dress that passed by, new ideas and inspirations flooded him. He was suddenly glad things had gone slower than expected at Bella Dolce. They were still in a place where they could make changes easily.

  Maybe having a runway down the middle of the store with a model showing the dresses would be amazing. He’d definitely not seen that in any other shop he’d been in. And there really was nothing like seeing how the dresses moved. However, he’d have to figure out how to achieve that while still keeping with the intimate and elegant ambiance he was going for.

  With every pass of the gowns, Kevin’s heart rate increased, but out of pure excitement. While the stress was there, it was smothered by the wonder of it all. Planning ahead, he’d put two Xanax in his pocket that morning, more than recommended, but he figured this would be the day for them. And if there was ever a day he could not afford to have an anxiety attack, it was here, in front of designers and other wedding shop owners. The day was nearly half over, and he still had the forgotten Xanax in his pocket. His Aciphex was a different story entirely. The acid from his heartburn felt like it was eating through his chest.

  “Whoa, that’s unusual.”

  Casper’s whisper brought Kevin back to the moment. He’d zoned out, reimagining the inside of the brownstone. On the runway, a brunette model wore white silk pants, a matching short riding-style jacket, and a lace midriff corset. It should have seemed tacky and cheap. It didn’t. It looked cutting edge and fresh. Kevin leaned in to keep his voice low. “Pretty awesome, huh?”

  “I don’t know. That’s a stretch. I can’t see many brides wanting to wear that.” Casper squinted his eyes and cocked his head, as if maybe from a different perspective he’d find the look more appealing.

  Kevin smacked his leg. “Stop it. You’ve got to work on your poker face.”
>
  Casper began to reply, but Kevin cut him off.

  “Not one word about Lady Gaga, or you will have no cake samples.” Kevin had to suppress a grin. There was something so cute about Casper. He was getting cuter every day, in fact. There was no guile or pretense to him. The very fact that he had the ability to distract Kevin from a runway show without causing irritation was somewhat of a miracle. One that worried Kevin, honestly. “I can’t say it’s my favorite, and I like the more traditional gown silhouette, but it would be good for our store to have a few nonconforming designs. Not every bride wants to look like a princess.”

  “Now, this one is pretty amazing.”

  Kevin followed Casper’s motion. As the pseudo-suit bride disappeared behind the white partition, another entered the runway from the opposite side. Kevin couldn’t suppress a sigh. So much for poker face. The white dress was a typical Cinderella ball-gown style, tight and fitted on the bust and waist, but by the time it reached midhip, it gradually began to billow out in layer upon layer of gauzy material that trailed behind the model like a cloud. The spectacular aspect was the black embroidery swirling in thick masses over the bodice and waist, spilling over the billowing train like dripping flowers. While also not for every bride, it was the definition of a fairy-tale gown. Not taking his eyes off the floating vision, Kevin patted Casper’s leg this time, not even noticing that he let his hand rest there for a few moments.

  He was able to look away once the gown left the runway. “Good taste, Casper. Expensive, but good taste.”

  The look Casper gave him was a little foggy, and his pupils were somewhat dilated.

  “Casper, are you okay?” Kevin removed his hand from Casper’s leg.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” His voice sounded a little thick as he replied. “How much do you think that gown was? Close to a thousand?”

  Kevin had to remind himself to whisper before he responded. “Are you insane? We’re not some mass-marketed discount wedding store. That gown was closer to eight or nine thousand. Maybe more.”

  Casper’s gaze cleared. “What? Are you kidding me? That’s a huge down payment on a car. Hell, in some cases that is a car. That’s ridiculous to spend so much on a dress!”

  Kevin cocked an eyebrow. “You know, we are going to have to work on your views of wedding gowns if you’re going to be allowed to have actual contact with the brides.”

  “Kev, nobody would pay that. Why would they?”

  “I’d almost think you were straight right now.” Kevin let out a quiet but long-suffering sigh. “That gown, all of these, even the suit one you didn’t like, are made from the best materials, and most of the embroidery and such is done by hand. They are art, and the bride will feel it when she’s wearing it. When the bridal chains copy that design, and they will, they will do it with polyester blends and synthetic materials. It will be heavier, not breathe as well, and move differently.”

  “But for that much money? Seriously? Maybe it would be worth it.”

  “Are you telling me that there’s not a difference between the cakes you’re going to make and some other bakery that uses boxed cake mixes and—” Kevin waved a hand between them as he searched for words. “—I don’t know, those premade sugar flowers you get at the store?”

  The grimace that crossed Casper’s face somehow made him both unattractive and adorable. “Never say those words again.”

  Kevin smirked. “See the difference?”

  “Got it. I’ll never question the gowns again.” He began to look at the runway, but Kevin pulled him back.

  “So, think about that gown we just saw, the one with the black embroidery. Picture the woman who will want that gown.” He leaned closer. “Now, think about her cake, how you could either mimic the design or create one that complemented her dress.”

  The look that came into Casper’s eyes was all the confirmation Kevin needed to know that adding the bakery to the shop was not only a good idea, it was perhaps the very thing that would make their business iconic.

  “I hadn’t really thought about that type of cohesion. I’ve just been designing wedding cakes in my mind, but to do completely custom cakes to go with your dresses….” The smile that broke across Casper’s lips nearly took Kevin’s breath away. “I wish we could start right now!”

  Again, looking at Casper brought that sense of serenity. Kevin leaned back in his chair. “We already are, Casper. We already are.”

  THE ANXIETY began to hit once he and Casper started to mill about the convention part of the Bridal Week. It was wonderful and a little too much. Set in the huge warehouse-type structure of Pier 94, the entire massive space was taken up by booths of designers, companies of wedding accessories, and things even Kevin hadn’t considered a wedding dress shop needing. Everything was awash in white—white walls, white booths, white curtain and draperies, white gowns. Even the sunlight streaming in from the countless triangular windows at the top of the complex was a bright, clean white.

  With so much white, everything started to blend together. That and the numbing buzz of hundreds of people talking simultaneously began to have a claustrophobic effect. It was the first time since arriving in New York that Kevin had needed Xanax. Casper gave him a concerned look when he saw Kevin digging for a pill, but he didn’t pry, which Kevin greatly appreciated.

  Even with the Xanax, the wash of white continued to have a neutralizing effect on the vendor displays, making it hard to differentiate. Which, ultimately, was what led Kevin to pick the designers he wanted for Bella Dolce, even more than the runway shows. While he wasn’t always able to put his fingers on what quality they necessarily had, a few designer booths stood out, making themselves distinct in the universe of white.

  It was then, while talking to another designer, Casper silent by his side, that Kevin knew exactly what he needed to do, and all of his years working his way up in the world of corporate advertising paid off.

  It was natural and genuine.

  Devina Malloy was an African-American designer who could easily have been one of the models they’d just seen. When Kevin learned this was her first time at Bridal Week, he became even more confident. Not only did her designs of classic silhouettes in untraditional finishes impress him, but so did her unassuming confidence. There was a tremor in her voice that suggested she might be faking it, but Kevin could sense the determination behind her words.

  “So, you’ve not opened Bella Dolce yet?”

  “No. It will be a few more months before we are there, but we’re getting closer. However, we will be open well before peak engagement season.” Nearly half of all engagements happened between Christmas and Valentine’s Day. And the first thing most brides did was the most fun part—picking out a wedding gown.

  Devina glanced at Casper. “And you’re telling me that you’re doing a combination wedding dress and wedding cake shop.” She sounded skeptical. “No offense, but you’re asking quite a lot of me, and your store has the potential to be fairly….” She faltered.

  Kevin just laughed and turned up the charm. “Tacky?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Yes.”

  He’d been prepared for this. It helped that if he’d heard such a concept from someone else, he would have thought the same. The other designers he’d contracted had mentioned that concern as well, and they’d been fairly easily persuaded; however, he was asking more from Ms. Malloy, and he knew it. He pulled out his tablet, as he had with the other designers, and showed her the pictures of the brownstone from the outside and the renovations they’d done on the inside. He also showed her pictures of the surrounding streets and shops, in case she wasn’t familiar with Boston.

  She looked somewhat convinced. “It is a gorgeous neighborhood, and I can see a premier wedding shop doing well there. Still, Boston is a huge market. I don’t think it would be wise to limit my brand to one store.”

  With the other designers Kevin had already contracted, they’d agreed they wouldn’t have their designs with any other shop within a certai
n mile radius. They were fairly typical standards and boundary lines. With Devina Malloy, Kevin was confident he could convince her to have Bella Dolce be the only shop in the greater Boston area to carry her designs. He also believed it would be beneficial for both of them.

  Kevin leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. “Here’s the deal, Ms. Malloy. There are the other designers that I already have coming into my shop….” He listed off four of the more major and well-known designers. “You’ll be in good company. Not only am I asking a lot of you, but I am giving a lot in return. No matter which other designers I choose this weekend to have in my shop, you will have the top billing of them all. In every advertisement we send out, every event we sponsor, Devina Malloy Designs will be at the top of each. And one or more of your gowns will be in our window displays at all times. You will be the elite in my shop. In return, I want to be your exclusive in Boston. If people want a Devina Malloy gown, they have to come to me. My shop will be perfect, that I can promise you. It will be stunningly gorgeous, and we will have the best customer service anywhere. Each woman who comes into our store will be treated like the queen she is. They will feel like the world spins around them from the moment they walk through our doors.”

  She was cracking. He could tell. She wanted to be the première designer as much as he wanted her to be. He also realized what she would be giving up. Boston was a huge, huge market. Kevin couldn’t fathom anyone agreeing to his proposition. They’d be insane to place all of their theoretical Boston eggs in one basket. Devina held out, though, and her interrogation of him only made Kevin more certain of his choice. “I’ll admit, I’m concerned about you not having any background in operating any sort of retail store before. What if you fail?”

  “I won’t. I will not fail.” Kevin couldn’t suppress the smile that took over his face. It wasn’t the Xanax talking. He could be as nervous as he needed to be, as scared or stressed, but he wasn’t going to fail. He knew it. Without a doubt, he knew it. He could offer more of an argument to convince her, but he didn’t. Though probably the smarter thing to do, to do so would have felt like a betrayal of the certainty he felt. “We will not fail. Bella Dolce will become the place to buy a wedding dress.”

 

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