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“How did Alejandro react when he saw the news?”
Another person asked, shooting another series of flashing lights. Cameras appeared, along with questions, all similar to the ones I asked myself, but had no answers for.
I was officially spotted.
“No questions please!” Ivanna held her hand up, her Louboutin clutch a minuscule shield to the photos that everyone began to take. One after another, the paparazzi showed up, their cameras like a dog whistle to others to take more pictures.
“Has Alejandro forgiven you for cheating? Are you still a couple?”
“Umm…” I fumbled with my words.Cheated?Did I just hear her correctly? Suddenly my vintage Valentino felt cheap.
“Gemma, don’t answer them.” Ivanna scolded, acting as my makeshift publicist as she shoved our way towards the large steel door.
I struggled to keep up as both men and women trampled over the train of my dress, marking it up as I finally stepped inside the building. I couldn’t just say nothing, having questions thrown at me like stones. No one wanted to listen to me, and after this morning, not even Alejandro had the patience to endure my truth.
“I’m not a cheater!” I shouted my final proclamation as the door slammed shut, and the flashing lights became eclipsed by solid steel.
Ivanna looked at me, disappointed like a corrective older sister.
“What did I just tell you?” She sighed, empathetically kneeling down to fix the bottom of my dress, calmly untangling it. “They just want a quote… and you gave them one.”
“Well, at least it’s the truth,” I answered, overwhelmed and a little tearful. Ivanna stood back up, checking my hair.
“I know, babe, but this is a different world now… it’s better to learn now than later.”
“It feels like a crash course.” I said deflated as she looped her arm around mine.
“Well, you got me at least, and I’ve already gotten you through a tough crowd before, haven’t I? Now let’s get you out of here, if today wasn’t cursed already, it soon might be.” She laughed, saluting a gold sarcophagus as we walked through the Egyptian exhibit.
She couldn’t be more right. If curses were a concern for her, then holding my arm was a bad idea. I was positively hexed with attention.
“Don’t feel too bad,” Ivanna cooed. “You’re going to love what you’re about to see.”
“I always love it here…” I replied, but lost my breath as I entered the lobby of cascading purple lights and flowers. Along the swooping arches and roman pillars hung blooming bouquets of peach carnations and lilies, the room scented like spring with all the iridescent charm of tabletop candles on fresh linen cloths. “She’s gorgeous…” I choked out, Ivanna playfully jabbing my arm.
“Not as gorgeous as him,” a spritely voice interjected between me and Ivanna.
“Dean?” I shrilled, greeted by the happy-go-lucky grin of Henri’s husband. He adjusted the orange, paisley bowtie around his neck, correcting its shape.
“Sweetie, have you seen your man? He’s stunning!” Dean pointed with an umbrella, motioning towards a series of large hanging portraits of Alejandro, his body encapsulated in rich black and white tones.
Ivanna shook Dean’s hand as they met. “I took that one.” She added, pointing to Alejandro harvesting agave in a blazing field, his brawny arms glistened with sweat, cupped by the rolled sleeve of an unbuttoned denim shirt.
“I always assumed he was good with his hands. But now I know it.” Henri appeared behind Dean, admiring the same image above. His suit was covered in a black coat, his height extended with the assistance of six-inch heeled designer boots. “Gemma, how are you?” He leaned in for a kiss, as our cheeks greeted each other.
“I’m—”
“Great,” Ivanna cut in, stitching a narrative for me. “We had a few bumps along the way, but now we’re here.” She introduced herself to Henri as I collected my wit.
“It’s just… an exciting adjustment,” I decided on, taking a moment to realize just how crowded the lobby was. Guests in their finest suits and gowns laughed with indecipherable chatter, their conversations muted with the orchestrated strings that played above on a balcony. My shoulders were still tense until Henri reached over with a comforting hand.
“I saw what happened outside,” Dean admitted, collecting a handful of champagne flutes from a passing waiter. “Next time you go out, take an umbrella. It’s better for deflecting the shade than giving it.”
“Gemma’s noticeable right now, and not just because of that dress,” Henri nodded, acknowledging my look and scandal.
“Honestly, I’m not sure if I should even be here,” I took a long gulp of the crisp champagne. Was everyone else thinking the same thing? This entire event was circled around a man with an alleged murder accusation, and now he was dating acheater? Henri’s face tightened as if sensing how uncomfortable I’d become.
“You’ll need to be tough for this world…” he advised, clinking the glass in my hand. “Just remember, any publicity is good publicity.”
