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“Cash, this is your big day. Not mine. You go deal with what you have to deal with. I’ll…I’ll be okay.” That feels like the biggest lie I’ve ever told. I know Iwillbe okay, but it sure doesn’t feel like that when I may or may not have a clump of cells dividing inside me at a rapid rate to form another living being, which is causing me the worst nausea and lightheadedness of my life.
“Two minutes!” the stage manager yells.
“For heaven’s sake, slap some eyeliner on her and let’s go!” Cash shouts at the makeup artist before darting away to deal with a fire somewhere else.
The makeup artist takes out a pot of eyeliner and does her best to create dramatic wings on my lids despite my eyes flinching and watering.
The second I’m done in the chair, Gregory is back, hustling me over to get changed into my first look, a dramatic button-down that has tails down to the floor with cigarette pants and the highest, most uncomfortable shoes in my life. The premise of the show is that with each look, things ease up and become more natural (natural according to Cash Cole, that is).
“Lean on me,” Gregory says so he can lace up my high heels. The pants are so tight I can’t bend over and do it myself, but that seems to be the norm around here. All the models have handlers flurrying around them, straightening, steaming, and tying.
I grab his shoulder, but tilting the littlest bit forward makes my head spin. I start to topple, bracing my other hand on his back.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Gregory says, grabbing the top of my thigh to keep me from falling over. “You really don’t wear heels much, huh?”
If only it had to do with the heels and not literally everything else. “Is it that obvious?”
Gregory sighs and shakes his head. “You’ll be fine, dear. Get in line.”
I teeter over to the line of models that’s started accumulating at the entrance to the stage. All of them have their game faces on. Meanwhile, I’m chewing like crazy on my lower lip.
“Put your teeth back in your mouth, you just got your makeup done,” Cash says, smacking my tush as she moves to the front of the line.
I leap into the air and yelp before tucking my lips back into a tight line over my teeth.
For the women around me, this is just a normal day at work. For me, this is true torture.
The only good thing is that it’s benefiting the shelter. I have to keep reminding myself of that as the arches of my feet start to ache as we wait for the music to start.
I close my eyes and am immediately hit by the image of my mind of Flynn. Usually, I open my eyes back up immediately to avoid lingering on the idea of him for too long. But the image of him right now is strangely comforting. Because I might have a piece of him inside me.
I never planned to be a mother this way. Accidentally and maybe on my own. And yet the idea of having a piece of Flynn entangled with me forever…
“Cash, you’re on.”
My eyes shoot open. A newfound resolve inside me. This catwalk is more symbolic than that. It’s like walking into my future.
What’s on the other side, I don’t yet know.
But I’m ready to find out.
Chapter 21
Flynn
Wemakeitjustas the lights are going down. Our seats are, much to my chagrin, primely located in the front row on the side of the catwalk. As we are led to our seats, Colin turns around and holds out a pair of sunglasses to me. “Put these on,” he whispers.
“Colin, I think I’m past the point of being recognized.”
“No, it’s part of the look. Cash said so.”
I hold my tongue and indulge him. Clearly, he’s trying to make a good impression, and what I’m currently wearing is the last thing on my mind.
I can feel eyes on me from all corners of the audience. There are going to be pictures of Colin and me all over the society pages after the flurry of photogs caught us walking into the venue.Ignore them, Flynn. They don’t matter.
I’m here for Stella and Stella alone. This is my final chance to show up for her. Show her that I’m here for her completely and utterly.
We sit just as Cash walks onto the runway. Behind Colin’s sunglasses, I can see his eyes light up. He’s got it bad.
