NINETEEN
It was,of course, a fiasco from the beginning. But then again, Ryan was certain everything was designed to be that way for him.
“Jade just called out sick,” Javier told Ryan as the two of them battled the crush from the previous show to find a place in the staging area at The Wallace Collection to dress Ryan’s models. “That’s two of our best talent.”
Ryan didn’t have time to break down about the whole thing or to do anything but nod and find a solution. “You’ve got contacts, Javier,” he said, dodging a pair of women from the previous show who rushed down the narrow aisle between designers, half dressed. “Do you know anyone who could step in last-minute?”
“You’re in luck,” Javier said with more confidence than Ryan felt. “I’ve been working to set up my own modeling agency, and I’ve got a few people I could call to get over here immediately. You don’t mind trans and non-binary models, do you?”
“If they look good in the clothes and have a fierce walk, I would love them,” Ryan said.
Javier grinned and pulled out his phone, stepping aside to make some calls.
Ryan would be eternally grateful to his friend, but they had more problems than just models.
“Shoes. Shoes. Where are the shoes?” he asked no one and everyone, twisting this way and that to find the box of shoes he’d spent a small fortune on for his models. Of course, now, if Javier managed to pull through with new models, the shoes might not fit anyhow.
“They’re right here,” Gloria said, coming out of what looked like a fluffy cloud of organza that surrounded the showstopper piece from the show that would be right before his. “Someone put them in the wrong place.”
“Yeah, I’m suresomeonedid,” Ryan sighed, sending Gloria a knowing look.
Giorgio was in the building. He’d seen the bastard come in earlier, when his first model had called out. Ryan had been at the top of the stairs, and as he passed through the lobby, Giorgio had looked up at him with a sharp grin that said he was about to ruin everything and he would love every minute of it.
Whether Giorgio had come upstairs to the staging area personally or sent someone to do his dirty work for him, Ryan knew sabotage when he saw it.
“Guard everything with your life,” he told Gloria. “I don’t trust Giorgio not to throw paint on the wedding gown or something.”
“He would absolutely do that,” Gloria agreed before heading off with the box of shoes.
Ryan turned his attention to the rack of clothes in front of him. Somehow, against all odds, he’d pulled off a cohesive collection that might actually cause a stir when it walked through the long gallery in—he checked his watch—half an hour. His threesome-inspired spring designs would turn a few heads,to say the least, but turning heads in the fashion world was a good thing.
Of course, he would enjoy the head-turning a lot more if Art and Graeme were there.
For the hundredth time, he checked his phone. The last message he had from Graeme was that they were on their way, but they’d hit traffic on the M25. Which was horribly typical.
The message had been sent almost forty-five minutes ago. They should have been there by now.
“Okay,” Javier said, striding back over to him on his long legs, face already dazzlingly made-up. “Jemma and Patience are in, but they’re clear on the other side of Hyde Park at the moment. They’re going to bust their beautiful, little arses to get here in time, though.”
“Great,” Ryan said, too breathless for his liking. It wasn’t the breathlessness of exertion, it was one hundred percent pure panic.
“You alright?” Javier asked, clamping a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, like he needed to keep him from shooting off like a firecracker.
“Yeah,” Ryan lied. “I just wish Graeme and Art were here.”
“I’m sure they’re coming, honey,” Javier said, full of kindness and not a hint of censure. “They really care about you.”
Ryan smiled and patted Javier’s hand on his shoulder. Graeme and Art did care about him, each in their own unique way. Graeme was his sweetheart, the bright-eyed, innocent, baby gay who helped him to see the world he’d become a little jaded by with new eyes. His urge to protect Graeme while also getting him out of his shell and into a wider acceptance of himself made each new day interesting and kept him humble and motivated.
Art, on the other hand, was the loud, give-no-fucks lover that he needed to bring him out of his shell. Art was fearlessand free, and while it was a good thing for all that in-your-face energy to rub off on him, Ryan also felt like Art needed him, and Graeme, to keep him from whizzing off into folly or danger that might really hurt him. The tacit disapproval the university had expressed over Art’s lifestyle wasn’t something Art could ignore. That was where he and Graeme came in.
The three of them gave each other everything they needed, everything that they wouldn’t be able to get from just one or the other of them. It didn’t work if all three of them weren’t together.
Ryan had taken that concept, that deep, emotional feeling, and used it to design his collection. Everything was in threes, from the pieces of the suits that were about to walk the runway to the asymmetrical skirts and dresses to the wide shoulders and narrow waists of his separates. And when the audience saw his sleek wedding gown walk down the aisle with two androgynous partners…well, he hoped it would make the statement he wanted to make.
“It’s never going to work, you know.”
Giorgio’s deep voice startled Ryan out of his last-minute steaming and sorting. He whirled around, steamer still in one hand, to find the silver-haired devil grinning at him.
