The Lover’s Game (No Exceptions #2)(36)
Author: J.C. Reed

I didn’t mind that my green lace dress was so short that others could see all the way up to Alaska. I also didn’t mind that Grayson expected me to sit still on a plush chair, with my legs on each side, so they would look longer. He had come up with the idea to cover up the fact that I was shorter than the other girls.

Wearing Thalia’s black, China-doll wig, I did as instructed, keeping perfectly still. All my emotions—the good, the bad, and the worse—were hidden behind the glass, even though I felt like a mammoth stuffed in a glass house inside a museum.

By the time drinks were served, all the other models had arrived, buzzing around with excitement at the prospect of meeting new clients.

All but Gina.

I scanned the room, taking in the changes in the interior design and the unfamiliar faces, but there was no sign of her.

“Where’s Gina?” I asked.

“I’ve no idea,” Thalia said, glancing at her watch. “She’s probably running late. It wouldn’t be her first time.”

As it turned out, Gina didn’t arrive later either. A half-hour into the event, a girl with blonde curls, looking like the youngest of them all, joined us as Gina’s replacement. I shot Thalia a questioning look, but there was no time for an introduction, because the actual event had started and guests were piling in.

Chapter 19

The gallery quickly filled with people. With constant new arrivals and free-flowing champagne, laughter and chatter echoed through the open space. I had never before attended a gallery event, so I had always assumed it would be a boring, apathetic experience—certainly not something full of vibrancy and life. From my heightened position, I stared at the guests, who were far less interested in the frames hanging on the walls than in socializing with the other visitors. Only a few turned their head toward the models standing behind the glass wall, paying any attention to our perfected poses. Most seemed taken in by the generous buffet, and that didn’t surprise me; it looked so delicious that my stomach growled.

Half an hour turned into an hour, then two. At some point, my arms felt numb, and my smile had frozen on my lips.

“My arm’s cramping,” the blonde next to me mumbled, keeping her face rigid. “On top of that, I can barely feel my legs. No wonder Sarah and Gina quit on Grayson. I wouldn’t bother to show up either.”

Thalia suppressed a laugh, and I could certainly understand why. The blonde girl was standing, with one leg hovering over a chair, the other on the floor. Her legs were slightly trembling, and her forehead was glistening from the effort to stay impassive. I figured I had drawn the lucky straw, because I had the luxury of sitting.

For a moment, there was silence, as a group of people passed us by, their gazes glued on us before they moved on to the next distraction. The instant they were gone, the blonde let out an annoyed breath.

“He isn’t usually that moody either,” she said. “What’s up with him?”

“What do you mean?” Thalia asked. The blonde inclined her head toward the arched doorway. I followed her line of vision and glimpsed Grayson standing next to the ugly mandrake, talking with one of his male guests, caught in some sort of disagreement, from the looks of it. His forehead was creased with either worry or annoyance, as he shook his head vehemently. We watched their heated discussion in silence.

“I tell you he’s g*y,” the blonde said, resuming her chatter.

“Who?” Thalia asked.

“Grayson.”

“Beth, you don’t know that. You can’t say that just because you’ve never seen him with a woman. Maybe he likes to keep his private life…private.”

“That’s my point exactly. I’ve never heard about him dating anyone,” Beth said. “I always see him hanging around with guys, and I say that makes him g*y.”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Fill us in then,” Beth challenged. “You’re into women, so maybe you should have a little chat with him. You know him better than anybody here. Maybe you can help him find his way out of the closet.”

I stared at Beth in disbelief. Not that it mattered, but Thalia and Grayson were g*y?

“Shut up,” Thalia snapped. “Just because I’ve known him longer than anyone else here doesn’t mean we discuss personal stuff.” With an annoyed sigh, she turned her head to me. “Don’t mind her,” she whispered. “She’s still upset that Grayson ignored her advances when she asked him out. In her book that can only mean he’s playing for the other league.”

“That’s so last year,” Beth muttered.

I stared at my employer, realizing I knew neither him nor Thalia particularly well. The day before, he had seemed quiet and reserved. Now, while he still looked impassive, there was a certain nervousness about him. He and his guest were so engrossed in whatever they were talking about that the entire room seemed to have dissolved into thin air around them. Whatever his sexual orientation was, he struck me as a strange man. I remembered the way our hands had touched. Maybe it had been a means to get my attention, but it certainly hadn’t felt g*y to me.

But who knew?

I wasn’t an expert on the topic just because I had a few g*y friends.

“Maybe this guy had the guts to tell Grayson that his mandrake is ugly, and now they’re arguing about art,” I suggested by ways of trying to inject a little humor into the situation and change the subject.

“Yeah.” Beth laughed. “That would land him in the lions’ den real quick. Grayson loves that ghastly thing.”

We fell silent again, and the seconds seemed to stretch on forever. At some point, Beth let out another frustrated sigh and eventually began to stretch. “I need a smoke. If Grayson asks, tell him I had to pee.”

The moment she was gone, I turned to Thalia and shot her a smile.

“You’re not going to avoid me now, are you?” she asked.

“What?” I stared at her, unsure where she was heading. “Why would I do that?”

She shrugged, as though it didn’t matter, but the fleeting look in her eyes spoke volumes. “Tell me you’re not one of those people who’ll judge me or change your opinion of me just because I’m…different. A girl who used to work here had a huge problem with it.”

I caught a strange expression on her face. It was a mixture of probing and hesitation, as if she was challenging me, testing me even. I realized there was more to the story, but I decided it best not to press the issue.