ANDREW XELLUM DROVE ME INSANE: THE DESIGNER’S FORMER MUSE TELLS ALL
I sit straight up in bed. Right below the headline is a picture of the woman from last night. “What the fuck,” I say.
“What is it?”
I pass him the phone. Now I know what she meant by seeing how I felt today. She knew that story was coming out. “Shit,” Andrew says, grabbing his phone and dialing.
He’s on the phone with May in seconds, who’s already heard the news. I pick my phone back up and read the article. I want to know what she’s saying. I know immediately that none of this is true. She’s saying that Andrew pushed her to her breaking point. That he never let her eat because he wanted her to be thinner for his shows, that he was controlling of her and her life and appearance to the point of abuse. That he kept her locked up in a house so that no one could see her unless he allowed it. The woman—Maya Hart—is someone I recognize now. She used to do what I do for Andrew in terms of modeling, and I always thought her work was brilliant. Not only that, but she has some of the world’s biggest campaigns right now. I’m surprised that I didn’t recognize her last night, but I chalk it up to the fact that I was too shocked by what she was saying.
She claims that she had to go to rehab for anorexia and get psychiatric help because he abused her. Further, she claims that any person associated with him, especially models, are in danger.
Bullshit. I’ve seen the way Andrew treats his models. He’s the ultimate professional, and I’ve never ever seen him tell anyone they were fat or that they needed to lose weight. He hasn’t locked me up or ever tried to control my everyday life. I’m not sure why she’s doing this, but it’s not true. None of it. I know it in my gut.
Andrew comes back into the room, already half-dressed and still on the phone. “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hold all the media requests until I get there.” He hangs up the phone and is buttoning his shirt.
“Are you all right?”
“I have to go to the studio, I need to get ahead of this.”
“Of course,” I nod. “I should go home for a little while, too. I could use some fresh clothes. But I’ll see you later?”
He kisses me briefly, though I notice he doesn’t meet my eyes. “Of course.” Grabbing his phone and a jacket he heads out the front door. I take my time getting ready. I root around in Andrew’s workshop until I find something more casual to wear that won’t have me doing the two-day walk of shame in that party dress. But I take the dress with me. No way in hell I’m letting that go.
I haven’t answered Fleece, and I know that she’s freaking out, so I decide to stop by the Blind Scorpion on the way home. The minute I walk in she’s on me, “What the hell is going on?”
I drop onto my perch at the bar, even though it’s way too early to drink anything. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue.” I fill her in on everything that happened over the last days, from the incredible sex to Maya confronting me.
“So what are you going to do?” she asks. “Are you going to break it off? Stop working for him?”
“Why on earth would I do that?”
Fleece gives me a look. “I’m not dumb. I read the article.”
“And you actually believed it?”
She has the good sense to look a little embarrassed. “Like I told you before, I’ve heard things. I wouldn’t put what she says past him.”
I shake my head. “I’ve never seen him do anything like that. And you’ve seen me? Has he tried to control my life? No.”
“That’s true…” she says, wiping down the bar with a cloth even though it’s already clean.
“I don’t know why Maya is doing this, and Andrew left too quickly for me to ask, but there’s more to this.” I grab my bag, suddenly determined to find out what’s really happening. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”
Fleece gives me a small smile. “For what it’s worth, I hope you’re right.”
It doesn’t take me long to swing by my apartment and grab the few things I need before I’m on my way to Xellum Studios. I should have made Andrew tell me exactly what this meant this morning. My phone is continuously buzzing with questions from friends and notifications of new articles surrounding it. People are asking questions about me, and whether Andrew is subjecting me to the same ‘abuse.’ He hasn’t been answering my calls. Directly to voicemail every time.
Whatever it is that Maya was trying to do, so far she’s been successful. There was an announcement that Whitman & Crown are considering dropping Andrew’s line because of the ‘revelations.’ If they drop out, other companies will too.
There’s a crowd of reporters outside the studio. Up till now, I haven’t been afraid of the press. But fighting my way through the crowd who’s shouting my name and pressing microphones into my face is scary. I finally break through and the security guard lets me inside. For a second, I just lean against the door and catch my breath. This is insane. Absolute madness.
The studio seems oddly deserted. I don’t hear the usual hum of noise that is the sewing shop and the other assistants bustling around. Upstairs is quiet too. I head down the hallway towards Andrew’s office, and I hear his voice and also May’s. I come around the corner and May is at her desk. She sees me and freezes mid-sentence on her phone call. “I’m going to have to call you back,” she says into the receiver. “Delia, he can’t see you right now.”
“I get that he’s busy, I just want to help.”
“He’s asked me not to let you in,” she says with a sympathetic smile.
A bolt of ice goes through me. “Excuse me, what?”
“I just think it might be better if you just went home.”
I straighten my shoulders, “I’m sorry, May.” I push past her and shove open the door to Matthew’s office, leaving her gaping. She follows me in and Andrew’s head snaps up as I open the door.
I put my hands on my hips and square off in front of him. “I get that this is probably one of the worst days of your life, but shutting me out of it is not going to make this better or easier for you.”
Andrew looks past me to May. “Give us a minute please, May,” he says softly. When she closes the door behind her he says, “I’m sorry.”
“What the hell is going on? And why are you trying to hide from me.”
He looks a little guilty. “A couple of reasons. I wanted to protect you from some of this. Connection to me right now only damages you. And second…” he hesitates. “I’ve said some things to you about wanting to push your boundaries and make you more than you are. I thought…I thought you might believe what they’re saying.”
I cross the room towards him. “I don’t believe them. And you don’t get to tell me that I matter and that I’m special without treating yourself the same way.” Yanking his face down to mine, I kiss him. “You’re talented and brilliant and there are tons of people who know that. Just tell me the truth about why she’s doing this.”
“I loved working with her,” he says. “She’s an excellent model, but she didn’t want to just be my model. And in the years that we worked together it was a constant onslaught of hints and suggestions that we should be together as more than just professional colleagues. I didn’t want that.” The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smile. “I didn’t want that with her. Then one day I came home to find her naked in my bed. I severed our professional relationship the next day.”
I press my forehead against his chest. “So she’s attacking you because you’re with me.” Guilt creeps up my spine. He could lose everything because of this.
“I don’t have any regrets about being with you. None.”
“Okay.”
Andrew lifts my face so that I’m looking at him. “I’m serious. This is not your fault.” He kisses me, and I allow myself to melt into him a little bit.
When we come up for air I ask him, “How bad is it?”
His expression clouds over. “Not good. People having been pulling out of meetings and stores are threatening to d
rop the line because of the article.”
I drop myself into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “But anyone who knows you and has worked with you knows these things aren’t true.”
“Bad press is bad press,” he shrugs. “With something out there like that, being connected to me is a liability.”
So,” I say, “they’re afraid of this article because Maya is a huge model and they don’t want to offend her, and they don’t want to lose sales by being in business with you.”
“Pretty much.”
I think for a second. “So all we have to do is get people who like you to spin the story the other way.”
“I think it’s easier said than done, but I’m open to ideas. What are you thinking?”
Smiling, I pull out my cellphone. “I’m thinking we have to move fast and you have to make me a queen,” I say as I dial. “Fleece, can you tell Barbara you have somewhere to be tonight?”