* * *
Brittany waved to George as she pressed the horses toward the hotel. The group was waiting outside with their equipment stacked on large luggage carts. Brittany smiled at the photographer she’d seen with Erika, who smiled back but was more concerned with her kit than anything else. They boarded the coach and hotel employees loaded their baggage and gear. Erika wasn’t with them.
They traveled slowly through town and toward the dock and the group pointed and smiled as they passed landmarks, probably enjoying the ride because they weren’t working and could relax. Brittany drove the coach back to the stables after dropping her riders off at the ferry. She searched the hotel entrance and surrounding area for Erika to no avail, so she put the horses away for the night and headed home. Erika had to be around here somewhere. There was no way she could have left the island without Brittany seeing her. Still, the niggling uncertainty played with her mind.
She unlocked her door and jumped at Erika’s voice behind her.
“May I come in?”
“You bet.” Brittany held the door open and followed her inside, relief flooding her.
Erika settled on her couch, and Brittany liked seeing her there. “I picked up some nice stuffed chicken breasts today. Can you stay for dinner?”
“Sounds great.” Erika stood and pulled her down next to her. “It’ll give us time to talk.”
“You look better than this morning.”
“Thanks. I feel much better. I’m still unsure of my future in modeling, but Peter left for New York, and I believe he’ll do whatever he can to find something for me.”
“The magazine group is gone. I just dropped them off.” Brittany slid closer to Erika.
“Yeah. Peter left on the two o’clock ferry.”
Brittany asked the question she’d wanted to all day but feared the answer. “How much longer will you be staying?”
Erika turned and held her stare. “I’m not sure. I need to wait and see what Peter might find for me. But I talked to the Grand Hotel and they’ll let me extend my stay for two more weeks. I guess I lucked out that they weren’t booked for the whole summer yet, but I’ll have to change suites. Oh, and I may need to go clothes shopping. The magazine group took all the clothes I wore for the photos. It wasn’t in my contract to keep them.”
Brittany grinned. “No problem, Ms. James. We’ll go into St. Ignace or Mackinaw City and find you some nice non-designer outfits, right off the rack. I’ll get the chicken started. Help yourself to anything. I have water in the fridge and wine in the cupboard.” She finished the meal preparations and settled on the couch next to Erika.
“Thanks for the invitation. I’m feeling off kilter, so it’s nice to look forward to a home cooked meal and company.” Erika sipped her water and propped her feet up on the coffee table.
“I’m happy to have you here. I can only imagine how you’re feeling.”
“I’ll be hounding Peter daily for sure, but it’ll be nice to spend a little more time with you.”
“That sounds perfect. We can plan a day off the island for some shopping, and I’m allowed to take a few days off as long as there are people available to cover for me. I think I better check on dinner.”
“I can help.”
Brittany removed the chicken from the oven while Erika set the small kitchen table. She paused and attempted to define the feelings the domestic scene elicited. Contentment? The heat from the oven combined with the scent of the baked food. The microwave ping indicated the green beans were finished steaming. It could’ve been any normal day for her preparing an evening meal, but Erika James, the famous model, was in her kitchen setting the table. She set the roaster on the stovetop and turned to watch Erika retrieve two water glasses from the cupboard. It wasn’t Erika posing for the camera, it was Erika here with her because she wanted to be.
Erika caught her staring. “What? Am I doing something wrong?” She rested her fist on her canted hip and grinned.
“Not at all. I’m just glad you’re here. Oh, I almost forgot the wine. I have a bottle of Michigan’s ice wine.”
“It sounds different.”
“I’m not a big drinker, but I like this wine. It’s a lucky year for it, too. The grapes are picked frozen, so the growers depend on an early freeze in December or January. It’s a popular Michigan wine.” She opened a bottle and set it on the table happy to be able to offer something new to someone who’d tried just about everything.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Erika spoke first. “This chicken is delicious.” She took a sip of wine. “And so is this wine.”
“Glad you like it.”
“How’re your parents doing?” Erika asked.
“They’re managing. My dad has bad arthritis, so he no longer works. Mom’s doing all right. They keep busy with their garden.” She wasn’t about to tell Erika about her financial support of her parents. They hadn’t been able to work in years, and she helped as much as she could. But that was private, and a little too intimate. “How’re yours?”
Erika sighed. “They’re good. I talked to my mom last month. They retired and moved to a ranch I bought them in Arizona a few years ago to get away from the snow.”
“Sometimes, I like the idea of no snow. Especially on the island in January and February, although the island is beautiful in the winter. It’s like a fairyland covered in a white blanket. Do you get to visit your parents often?”
“I haven’t been able to for a while, but I suppose I will if Pete can’t come through with something for me.” Erika took a drink of wine. How would she tell them?
“Here’s to Pete finding you work.” Brittany held up her glass for a toast.
They clinked glasses and sipped their wine. “Shall we sit on the couch?” Erika asked.
Erika carried their plates to the sink and Brittany refilled their wine glasses. They sat, as if by design, with their feet on the coffee table and their thighs touching. Neither moved away and Brittany spoke first. “I’m glad you came by today. I was worried about you.”
“I was kind of worried about me, too. It really threw me to be dropped so suddenly. Peter thinks it was because this is a new magazine and they didn’t have enough experience to know how to handle it. Anyway, they claim to have what they need for their issue, and Pete will make sure I’m paid for what they contracted. I suppose it could be their inexperience that led them to cancel their planned American Parks series. It would have been fun, I think.” Erika took a deep breath and expelled it.
“Learning about modeling and photo shoots the last two weeks has been really interesting. Do you have a favorite place you’ve been to for a shoot?”
“I think I always enjoyed each place in its own way, especially the first time I go there. Once we had a series for a designer set in Egypt. We were there for what seemed like forever. It was hot and dry and sand was everywhere. I coughed for days after we were finished. I hope I don’t ever have to go back there.”
Brittany chuckled at the face Erika made. “I’ve read about deserts, and I don’t think I’d like it much either. Hopefully, Peter will find you something here in the United States.”
Erika set her glass on the end table and cupped her face in her hands. “I may be upset about my future, but I’d be more upset if I lost you after finding you again.” Then she kissed her.
Chapter Twenty-four
Erika arrived back at the hotel after dark. She had two more days in the same suite before she had to move. She didn’t mind. It would be nice to see more of the hotel. She’d miss riding around the island with Brit, but they could have dinner together and do things on her day off. She realized she had no idea when Brit had days off. She’d figure it out tomorrow. She didn’t have anything else to do with her time now. She squeezed back tears. She believed Peter would do his best, and she crossed her fingers it would be good enough. If she didn’t hear from him soon, she’d try calling her friend and fellow model Pat in New York. She trod through the entryway and
through the hall to her room. The day she’d left New York for this verdant island, she’d been working nonstop, racing against time to outrun her biological clock.
Now, as she faced the very real possibility of the end of her career as she knew it, she admitted to being tired of the constant pressure to maintain the illusion of perfection. But tired was too weak a word, she decided, as she changed into her nightshirt. Weary was closer. Exhausted, drained, disillusioned. Those were nearer to her condition as the end loomed. And surely that meant something. Maybe it was time to move on, to find something that made her happy. She wished she had an idea what that might be. A lifetime of working to be the best model in the world had brought fame and a lot of money, but why did she feel that happiness had eluded her? She crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head.
Her conversation with Brit about their parents disquieted her. She’d set hers up with an enormous bank account and bought them their sprawling ranch in Arizona. She sensed her motives for such generosity went beyond gratitude for their support. Tightness in her chest told her it was something more visceral. She craved their approval, the way she always had. She lived with a constant whispering voice inside her asking what they would think or say about her decisions. The small voice bellowed when she contemplated accepting Naturalé’s offer. She drifted into sleep, hoping dreams of Brit’s sweet kiss before she left her apartment would sooth the raging uncertainty in her gut.
* * *
Erika sat back on one of her parlor chairs and rested her bare feet on the other. She held her coffee cup in both hands and watched seagulls soar over the water. Their shadows, cast by the morning sun above, traveled over the swell of the waves like fish following their path. She couldn’t remember when she’d had time to sit without waiting for Kathy or another stylist to arrive and ready her for work. It unsettled her yet freed her mind to wander, and as they always did lately, her thoughts turned to Brit. She’d have to get her work schedule so they could make plans for their shopping adventure. She finished her coffee and rose to take a shower and review her wardrobe.
She smiled at her two pair of designer jeans. She had one pair of shorts and several T-shirts, a bathing suit, and her collection of Victoria’s Secret underwear. She probably wouldn’t need anything else, really, but she looked forward to spending the day shopping with Brit anyway. She made a mental note to let Peter know she’d like the clothes she wore for the photos next time to be included in her contract. She shuddered when she remembered that next time might be an unclothed event. She chose her blue denim jeans for the day and slipped on a T-shirt. Maybe she’d pick up a Mackinac Island T-shirt in town. She grabbed a sweater and went to look for Brit.
The stables were quiet when she peeked in the door. A gate squeaked so she entered and waited. George appeared from around the corner and smiled. “Hey there. I didn’t expect to see you here, Ms. James. Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” She coughed to expel the lie. “Is Brittany working today?”
“She is. She should be back any minute.”
Erika turned to leave until the hotel’s omnibus rolled up the hill with Brit seated on the front bench. She raised her hand to wave but quickly lowered it, unsure if it was allowed to distract the driver. Her question was answered when Brit looked at her and smiled. She watched her guide the two draft horses to the unloading area and climb off the coach.
“Good morning. This is a nice surprise,” Brit said.
“Good morning. I came looking for you, and George told me you’d be back soon.” Erika stood grinning, feeling a little silly at being so glad Brit was there. Brit looked sexy in her starched white shirt and black vest, coat, and top hat. She nearly gave in to her desire to kiss her in the middle of the street. “Will you be free for dinner later?”
“I’ll be free as soon as I take care of the horses.” She leaned toward her but stopped, looking confused before she backed away slightly. “You can watch if you promise to stay at a safe distance.”
Ericka didn’t try to hide her excitement. “I’d love to. I understand there’re probably insurance restrictions.” She followed close behind Brit, anxious to get closer to the horses.
“Hey, George,” Brit said. “I’m showing Erika how we settle the horses in the stables.”
George waved his assent and grasped the lead of one of the horses while Brit gripped the other. Erika watched as they led the horses into their stalls, amazed at how quietly, almost eagerly the huge horses entered them. She could tell they’d done it many times. “Do they ever give you any trouble going in?”
“Not usually. They know the routine and they know where their food is. They usually go directly to the grain bucket, and as long as we’re consistent with them, they’re content.” Brit stroked the horse’s neck when she spoke.
“May I pet him?”
“Sure.” Brit stepped aside to let her get close enough to run her hand along his back. His skin twitched under her touch and his short tail swung as if to brush away a fly.
She watched him grab a mouthful of hay from the bag hanging in the corner and chew for a minute before reaching for another. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, and she flinched and stepped back wondering how long it took Brit to get comfortable around these massive animals. They were quiet, non-judgmental hulks. They cared about gentle touches and voices, and nothing about appearances. So unlike the experience Brit had after her accident. It was no wonder she loved it here. She chuckled when she realized this big boy couldn’t care less if a world famous fashion model was standing in his stall in fear of being crushed.
“Shall we go get some lunch?” Brit asked.
“Sounds good.”
“All right if we stop by my place so I can change first?”
“Of course.” Erika followed Brit along the same path they’d taken to the spot from which they’d watched the sunset. She paused to reflect on the memory of safety and caring in her arms. She added comforted and aroused when her warm body pressed against her back. She watched Brit stride in front of her as she followed her. She could be who she was with Brit, beneath the mask of Erika James. And it was enough. She’d try to show Brit how beautiful and valued she was beneath her scars of the past for as long as she was on the island. Her next thought felt like a slap in the face. She’d be leaving for New York as soon as Peter found her work, and Brit would be on her own again.
Chapter Twenty-five
Brittany unlocked her apartment door, aware of Erika close behind her. She fumbled with the doorknob. Her hand shook and butterflies fluttered in her belly. She stepped inside and tossed her keys on her end table. “Help yourself to anything you find in the fridge. I’ll just be a minute.” She turned to face Erika and the butterflies increased their tempo.
“Go change. I’ll be fine.”
Brittany disrobed quickly and hung her work clothes in her closet before heading to the bathroom to wash her face. She gently patted her scars dry and applied sunscreen and light makeup before slipping on her jeans and a T-shirt. She hesitated in front of the mirror on her way out. Her skin discoloration and scars would never disappear, and Erika had to see it. What did she really think?
“Ready?” Brittany asked, pushing away the unwelcome thoughts.
“Sure. Where’re we going?”
Brittany hadn’t thought about where they’d go. “We could go to the Gate House or walk downtown.”
“Let’s walk downtown and see what goodies we find. Then we can stop at the Gate House to eat.”
“Sounds great.” Erika pulled her closer. “I’d like to find a T-shirt.”
Brit stepped back and held out her hand. “Let’s go look at T-shirts.”
Erika grabbed her hand and kissed her quickly before turning toward the door.
Brittany enjoyed walking with Erika instead of just being her chauffeur. She wanted to hold her hand as they walked into town but reminded herself there were cameras everywhere these days. She contemplated her option
s when Erika surprised her and took her hand.
She interlaced her fingers. “Is this okay?”
“It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful.” If Erika didn’t mind being seen with her, she could deal with a few stares.
“Let’s go in here.” Erika pulled her into one of the stores.
Brit shared a grin with the cashier as they watched Erika flip through T-shirt after T-shirt. She held one up against her and looked their way. They nodded in unison and she added it to her growing pile on the end of the table. She grabbed two more and held them up for inspection. Brittany pointed to the one in her left hand and the cashier to the one in her right, so Erika put them both on her pile. She picked up several more and hesitated before she turned and carried her treasures to the checkout counter.
“Will that be all?” the cashier asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Erika replied and handed over her credit card.
Brittany watched and tried to look serious when Erika joined her. “Shall we try a few more stores before they close?”
Erika looked sheepish when she answered. “No. Seven Mackinac Island T-shirts are probably enough.” She laughed and Brit laughed with her. “They’re not all for me.” She pulled one shirt out of her bag. “Here. This one’s for you.” She held it up against her. “It’s your color. And”—she pulled another matching style but different color shirt out and held it up—“it matches mine.”
Brittany blinked back tears as she accepted the gift. This T-shirt was special because Erika had thought of her when she bought it, and because it matched one of hers. It felt weirdly romantic, and it was a gesture no one had ever made before. “Thank you.” She clutched it to her chest.
“Shall we wear them to dinner? It’s casual at the Gate House, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” Brittany held Erika’s hand all the way back to her apartment.
They changed quickly and headed to the restaurant. It was more crowded than Brittany had seen it lately, even for a weekday, but they only had to wait for a few minutes before they were seated.
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