Ryan’s mouth dropped open, and he glanced at Art, whose face and reddened lips were less than a foot away, and said, “I’ve been great. How are you?”
“Fantastic,” Adam said in his slick, New York accent. “Listen, I’ve got exciting news for you, and I don’t want to drag it out, because you’re going to need all the time you can get.”
“Um, alright?”
Art must have sensed there was more to the call than met the eye. He eased up slightly, leaning back and watching Ryan with a curious look.
“You know I’m on the board curating London Fashion Week this September, right?” Adam asked.
“Yes, and congratulations for that,” Ryan said, fighting the twist of longing and the flash of sheepishness that hit him. “You worked hard for that position.”
“I did,” Adam said. “And what good is finding yourself in high places if you can’t help your friends?”
“Nothing, I guess,” Ryan said, his heart beating faster.
“So here’s the thing,” Adam went on. “We’ve had a drop-out for September’s show. Teague Underhill has had to drop out to help their mom through a cancer diagnosis.”
“That’s terrible,” Ryan said. “Poor Teague. Do they need anything?”
“They need you to take their spot on the runway,” Adam said.
It took a second for the impact of those words to settle in.
“I beg your pardon?” Ryan said.
“I’ve got you a spot in London Fashion Week,” Adam said, sounding triumphant. “Can you put together a spring collection in time?”
Ryan’s jaw dropped. He was struggling to design a fall collection for February as it was. There was no way on earth he could have a complete collection designed and constructed by September.
On the other hand, this was it. This was the chance Giorgio had denied him to launch his own line and step out of the shadows of that manipulative old wanker. And it was the sort of chance that only came along once.
“Yes!” he said, head spinning and stomach feeling sick. “Yes, of course I can come up with a collection. Just send me the details and let me know what I have to do.”
“Perfect,” Adam said. “I’ll put you in the line-up right now, and we’ll have a more extensive call this coming week to discuss things.”
“Thank you,” Ryan said, sinking to sit on the bed as Art let go of him and stepped back. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Actually, I do,” Adam said, laughing.
They said their goodbyes, then Ryan ended the call and let his arms drop like a ragdoll. He looked up at Art, his mouth still hanging open.
“Everything alright, love?” Art asked, affection and concern in his expression.
“I’ve just been offered a spot in London Fashion Week,” he said breathlessly.
“That’s wonderful!” Art laughed, jumping onto Ryan’s lap with his knees on either side of Ryan’s hips. “You’ve been working on that fall collection for as long as I’ve known you.”
He tried to kiss Ryan, but Ryan held him off.
“It’s not for February,” he said. “It’s for September.”
Art leaned back, staring at him. “That’s two months.”
“And I don’t have a damn thing for it,” Ryan gasped.
“But you said yes,” Art pointed out.
“I had to,” Ryan said, starting to feel hysterical. “This is a chance of a lifetime. How could I say no?”
