“I can come back some other time,” Ryan told Gloria, turning to block Giorgio out entirely. “I think we’ve sorted everything that we can sort together anyhow.”
“I’ve got you blocked on my schedule,” Gloria said, nodding to Ryan and peeking at Giorgio.
“Thanks,” Ryan managed a small smile for her, a glare for Giorgio, and a quick glance to tell Graeme they were leaving.
“Best of luck with your show,” Giorgio called after them. “I hear you’re going to need it.”
There was no mistaking the hostility in those last words. What struck Graeme even more was the flush that painted Ryan’s face as they exited the workshop. It wasn’t anger so much as shock.
“He knows about my show,” Ryan said as they walked down a flight of stairs and exited the building.
Graeme waited for him to say something more, but he didn’t. “He can’t do anything to interfere with it, can he?” he asked.
Ryan sent him a sideways look as they left the building, but it wasn’t until they were halfway down the sidewalk that he said, “I don’t know. Giorgio knew that I was the best designer working under him. He told me so several times. He thought he had me where he wanted me right up until the moment when I said I was leaving to start my own line and hopefully my own fashion house someday.”
“And he didn’t like that,” Graeme said.
“No.” Ryan rubbed a hand over his face and picked up his pace, like he couldn’t get away from where Giorgio was fast enough. “That’s why he threatened to destroy me before I got started if I left him.”
“That’s horrible.”
“It’s more than horrible, it’s manipulative,” Ryan said, his voice tight and sour. “I don’t think he actually cared about me in any romantic sense. I think his offer not to crush my career if I slept with him was just added humiliation for what he considered a betrayal. He wanted to see me groveling with his dick in my mouth for even thinking of independence.”
“I can’t believe people are actually like that,” Graeme said, shaking his head.
“Well, they are.”
“But you chose the third option,” Graeme said, referring to their conversation the month before.
“I did,” Ryan said. “I stood my ground and told him to go fuck himself.” He was silent for so long Graeme started to worry before he said, “And now I wonder if that was the biggest mistake of my life.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Graeme reassured him.
Ryan sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. “He ruined me in Milan,” he said as if he disagreed. “He called in favors to have the backers for my first independent line cancel their investments. He spread rumors about how I demanded models sleep with me in order to get prime placement in my show, which was one hundred percent projection, I might add.”
“He seems like the type to do that,” Graeme said.
Ryan huffed a humorless laugh. “He’s the reason I was forced to return to Hawthorne House with my tail between my legs. All that integrity, and what do I have to show for it?”
“You have everything to show for it. Your tail isn’t between your legs,” Graeme pointed out. “You’ve got a show at London Fashion?—”
It hit him then, the reason why Ryan was fighting to do something impossible, the reason why he thought it was his last shot. Even if he was successful at putting out an okay collection, even if he got his foot in the door, the damage Giorgio Esposito had already done, the further damage he might do, could push him right out the door again.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Graeme said once they were back in the car, as Ryan turned on the engine. “Whatever you need from me, on the day of the show and before, I’ll do it. I’ll learn to sew if I have to. Or I’ll distract you now and then so youcan stay focused in the long run. Whatever it is, I’ll be there for you.”
Ryan glanced his way with a weak smile, looking tired, grateful, and hopeless. “Thanks,” he said, then focused on driving.
Graeme still wasn’t sure what the full story rattling around in Ryan’s head was. He knew the bones of the story now, but there was probably more to it.
Art would know how to help. He would be able to drag the full story out of Ryan, and he would probably come up with a dozen ideas for how to kick Giorgio Esposito in the balls, too. But if Art was more useful to Ryan right now than he was, where did that leave Graeme?
THIRTEEN
Ryan was justabout ready to give up on determining whether his life was amazing or a nightmare. His trip into London had started with so much promise. Even though things were just slightly stilted between him and Graeme, probably due to the growing intimacy between them with Art as the ever-present third-wheel, they’d chatted and just existed together, which was a wonderful thing, as far as Ryan was concerned.
Graeme had been a huge help without even knowing it at the fabric shop and during his meeting with Gloria. Fabric had become as ordinary to him as paint probably was to Rhys or colors of glass to Rafe, but watching Graeme appreciate everything had sparked a few new ideas when it came to what people might find appealing in terms of color, texture, and drape.
And then Giorgio had come along and blown everything out of the water. He hadn’t changed at all. He was still the man everyone fell all over themselves to please, the man who made heads turn and hearts race, though not necessarily for good reasons. Ryan’s meeting with Gloria had been over from the second Giorgio spoke. Three days later, and Ryan was worriedthat his entire collaboration with Gloria might be over, too. She’d never called him back to finish the business they’d started.
