The rest of the day, I force myself to stay present, but every chance I get, my eyes trail to Lydia, who seems bothered by me. Too bothered to even meet my eyes. Even our rehearsal was awkward at best. I wanted to say something. I did, but she wouldn’t look at me. Wouldn’t tell me that she was upset.
If I had assumed it was me, she would have bitten my head off for suggesting I know anything about her emotions— or emotions in general. That’s a new one, by the way. She made some snide comment about my lack of feelings. Like that’s even an insult.
Anyway, she’s one to talk. Always closing off every time she seems to let her guard down. She’s built her walls up so high that I would die even attempting to climb them, breaking a hand trying to push a hole in the wall with my hands. I just have to wait for the next opening and hope she doesn’t shut me out again. We leave the mansion at 9 p.m., so I have until then to smooth things over before next weekend.
When dinner rolls around, I change into my pale pink, almost white, Miu Miu suit and wait outside of Lydia’s door because this is my shot to make it right. I won’t fuck it up again, even though I don’t know how I fucked it up in the first place. It can’t be the fact that I slept with her because I know I’m phenomenal in bed— and I’ve definitely met my match in her.
The door swings open as I’m adjusting my black tie that matches my black Miu Miu platform shoes. Lydia freezes in the doorway, and I think everything in me has stopped as well. She’s wearing a tiered silk dress. Pink like my suit, laced with pearls and flowing fabric everywhere but the waist and bust. Thin straps holding it up with sheer frilly fabric cut about an inch in width and spanning the entirety of the strap.
“You… you look like the most perfect being I’ve ever laid eyes on.” I catch my breath again, playing it off like I’m clearing my throat, and a smile creeps across her lips as she meets my eyes for the first time today.
“Thank you. You look…” I raise my brows to wait for the compliment. “Pink.” She nearly whispers it, and I look down at my suit like I’m surprised.
“Oh yeah! I am!” I shake my head, and she nearly laughs, mouth parted, pearly teeth gleaming. “Can I walk you to dinner?” I hold out my arm for her, and she takes it without hesitation, closing the door behind her as we make our way down the hall. It’s silent for a little while between us, no jabs or snide comments, not even banter. We always have banter.
“Did I do something?” I hate the words that just came out of my mouth. I sound like an insecure high school boy. She pauses and grabs the railing on her side as we walk down the steps. She makes me wait. Doesn’t say a thing until we’re at the bottom of the steps.
“No.” She finally shakes her gorgeous head.
“No?”
“No.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me all day?”
“Avoiding you?” We turn the corner, and I’m perplexed by her attitude.
“Yeah, avoiding me.”
“How so?”
“Lydia, are you kidding?”
“No.” We enter the ballroom, and she doesn’t even have a slight smile on her face. Her words don’t sound angry, but if I knew any better, my prodding has made her irritated. I don’t give a fuck now if she is mad at me. Honestly, I’d just prefer her to say it. Scream in my face if she has to, but the ice treatment is such bullshit. If anything, we’re supposed to be friends, and she’s acting like I’m some villain.
“Lydia.” I sharply grab her attention after we’re seated in the same spot as last night. Her head snaps to me like she’s taken aback by my harsh tone. I’m quiet, but cutting, and I don’t hold back. “If you’re mad at me, say it. Don’t hold back on my account. We’re supposed to be fr—” I stop myself, and her brows gently raise as she tilts her head.
“Friends? Is that what you were going to say?Friends.” She repeats the word like it’s a curse word she’s just learned.
“I—”
“Because that’s the last thing we are.”
“What?”
“We’re first co-workers. That’s the relationship we need to prioritize. Get to know each other properly, so we can give everything we have to the mission—” Mission? She pauses for a moment before shaking her head. “Which is… to give our best performance and model our asses off.” I nod in realization.
“So you don’t want to fuck me again?”
“No. Are you even listening to what I’m saying, or is everything just about sex to you?”
“Damn, Lydia.” One of the guys across the table has caught wind of our quiet but aggressive conversation. Lydia shakes her head and brings her hand up to cover the side of her face as she looks solely at me, waiting for me to speak.
“Look, I get it,” I hiss. “You don’t do this sort of thing. You probably always play by the rules, and it’s gotten you far in life. But I like fucking women. And I don’t do it with someone more than once. So—”
“So, you’re saying I should feel special that you want to fuck me again?” She blinks, and my jaw drops because I guess it sounds worse coming out of her mouth than it did in my head.
“Now that you put it that way… I think this is coming out all wrong….”