“Giorgio,” he acknowledged the man, then turned back to his work.
“You think you’re going to make an impact with any of this? With your sly reference to polyamory?” Giorgio pressed on, moving to stand beside the rack of clothes Ryan was working with.
“I don’t have time for you today, Giorgio,” he said, even though his insides felt like someone had poured snapping hot coals down his throat. “Moira, could you come over here and put this on,” he called to one of his models, who had just arrived.
Giorgio sent the young woman an intimidating smile, but he didn’t budge from his spot. “You might think the fashion worldwill gobble up this unusual offering,” he said, “but you and I both know better than that. The fashion world only pretends to want innovation. They don’t want anything that strays too far outside of what they already know. Especially if they feel like you’re mocking them when you do.”
Ryan turned back from handing Moira a hanger with her first look. “I beg your pardon?”
Giorgio shrugged. “You know that Marco Valliant is very sensitive about his two pretty little things.”
Ryan frowned. A second later, it connected. The designer Marco Valliant had gotten into some hot water a few months before for his relationship with two young models. It wasn’t the numbers that had raised eyebrows, though, it had been their age.
“This has nothing to do with Marco,” Ryan said, turning away from Giorgio again as another of his models arrived.
“That’s not what Marco has been told,” Giorgio said, checking his nails.
A burst of anger shot through Ryan. Giorgio was just the sort of snake who would spread rumors about the intention behind his show. The problem was, Marco was a big enough name in the industry that if he was offended, it could cause real trouble for him.
“I don’t care what Marco thinks,” Ryan lied, focusing on his models again. “The motivation behind this show is personal.”
“Yes, and so was the way you left me,” Giorgio said, not even trying to hide the comment from the models.
A few of them exchanged wary looks, but most of them knew nothing was any of their business except the clothes they were being asked to wear.
That didn’t stop Ryan from wanting to be over and done with Giorgio’s nonsense forever. Once he handed off one of the larger gowns to a model he’d worked with in Italy several times, he rounded on Giorgio and stared him dead in the eyes. “I don’tcare what you think of me,” he said. “I’m not coming back to you. I was never ‘yours’ on anything other than a professional basis. You can throw whatever you want at me and destroy my business before it gets off the ground, but?—”
Before he could finish, he spotted Art and Graeme pushing their way through the swirl of movement, people, and fabric to make a path to him. In an instant, Giorgio truly didn’t matter. He was a fly buzzing around his head. The only men that really mattered in his life were the two that dodged a half-dressed model, nearly knocking her over, bumped into a rack of clothes as they crossed paths with one of the dressers from the previous show, and stepped on the long hem of someone else’s gown.
“Sorry, sorry,” Art called out, alight with the excitement of the moment. “Traffic was a bitch. I had to drive on the shoulder a few times and probably should have been pulled over at least five times.”
“Are we supposed to be back here?” Graeme asked as he and Art reached Ryan and took turns hugging him. “I told Art we weren’t allowed up here, but he insisted on coming anyhow. We can leave if we need to.”
Despite everything swirling around him, Ryan laughed. It was so typical of both of them. Art, his bull in a china shop, and Graeme, his conscience. He never would have been able to choose between them, and nothing made him happier than knowing he would never have to.
“You look hot,” Art said as Graeme finished hugging him. “And I mean that in every sense of the word.”
“Do you need a bottle of water or something?” Graeme asked. “I think I saw a case just back there.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.
Giorgio watched the whole thing from the side and started laughing. “It will never work,” he said with a gloating grin. He wasn’t talking to Ryan, though. He looked dead at Graeme andsaid, “He’s never going to stick with you. He’s far too fickle for that. He’ll ditch you both and be off to Paris or New York or wherever his career takes him as soon as the fashion world snaps its fingers.”
Graeme looked stunned as he turned to Ryan for confirmation. Art just looked irritated, though. “Why don’t you mind your own business?” he demanded from Giorgio.
Giorgio seemed to think that was hilarious. “Your little kitten has claws,” he said.
Ryan knew Giorgio well enough to know the jab was deliberate on several levels. Although Art did look like a cat with its fur up as he glared at Giorgio. Ryan didn’t want his lover fighting his battles for him, though, so he rested a hand on Art’s arm in an attempt to still him and stared right at Giorgio.
“I am not coming back to you,” he said slowly, emphasizing each word. “I don’t care if you cut my career off at the knees. Do I care about fashion? Yes. But there are things I care about more.”
Giorgio huffed a laugh, like he didn’t believe him. “You’re ambitious, Ryan. You’ll never be satisfied with a second-rate career designing for bargain stores, or teaching at your family’s quaint little arts center.”
That blow hurt, but not for the reasons Giorgio likely thought.
“What my family has done is amazing,” he said, believing it with his whole heart. “That quaint little community arts center does more for the world than any of your overpriced, elitist designs ever will. It improves people’s lives and brings a community together. The children who take art classes there create more magic than you ever will in your life.”
“Hear, hear,” Art said, clapping Ryan’s back and standing strong by his side.
Graeme slipped into place on Ryan’s other side, and although it might have looked cheesy and saccharine to a jaded soul likeGiorgio, Ryan had never been happier. He wanted a career in fashion, but he needed the two men who stood stalwartly by his sides.
