Unconditionally (Brown County #4) (9 page)

She looked up at me, her burgundy hair plastered to her head, it needed volume in a big way but that wasn’t my department, and as a single solitary tear fell down her cheek she asked, “Why?”

I darted my eyes around almost confused by her question. So I scoffed, “Because my cold cream is amazing and I always have it in my makeup kit.” Asking me why I brought my own cold cream was almost like asking Tony Hawk why he had a skateboard…

What? Didn’t think I knew who a professional skateboarder was? Eh, I used to have the smallest little crush on him back in the day.

The telltale sign of the smallest of grins began to appear on Gwen’s face, “No, why are you being so nice to me? Offering me your cold cream. I was an outright bitch to you the first time we met.”

I raised a finger to my chin, “Yeah, you really were. But even though I’m a firm believer in first impressions, I’m not exactly opposed to giving second chances.” Halting myself, I needed to reword that ending. In all honesty I wasn’t opposed to giving second chances, hell I gave my parents and brother multiple chances but look where that got me. When dealing with matters of the heart, especially my heart, that was where the fine line can be drawn on second chances. “Well, second chances when they are warranted.”

“You know, someone once told me that if you were ever to be lucky enough to get a second chance, not to waste it.”

That was really good advice, which got me thinking that if I were to give Gio a second chance, would he make the most of it? Would he make it count? Not always did second chances mean a happily ever after for both parties, sometimes it was just a chance to make it right. Did he actually want to be with me, or was he just trying to make things right?

Needing to get Gio out of my head, I opened my kit and took out my cold cream and the concealer that best matched Gwen’s facial tone so I could begin contouring her face to highlight certain characteristics and to combat those dark circles under her eyes.

Other than the purple hues that extended down towards the tops of her cheekbones, Gwen’s skin was absolutely flawless. I loved working with a blank canvas and making something amazing out of it.

“So tell me about Gwen,” trying my best to get her to open herself up to me, tell me a little more about her as a person. I couldn’t quite give her my signature label of doll because I still didn’t have the friendly vibe from her, it wasn’t as if she elicited a forthcoming attitude.

She shrugged her shoulders and her lashes twitched against her skin but she remained as still as could be with her eyes closed allowing me to continue.

“Not really much to tell, I lived a normal childhood with normal parents. I rebelled against living the perfect life and went against all of my parents’ rules and morals. Ran off with a guy who I thought loved me but in fact loved all women if you get my drift. So now I’m here living in a man’s world and trying to get respect as a business owner without getting too far in over my head.”

A low growl erupted from my throat, I placed my hands on Gwen’s shoulders and waited for her to open her dark brown eyes and look at me. “I’m only going to say this once, doll, a woman can do anything a man can do and sometimes even better. But in order to get respect you have to earn it, and it ain’t happening being bitchy all the time. Loosen up, I know things can get stressful but it does nothing to take it out on people.” The shimmer in her eyes that I saw, I knew I was getting through to her. “Find something that you enjoy as a stress reliever, like me for example I enjoy taking bubble baths, singing, shopping, and applying makeup on gorgeous women.” A simple wink ended that conversation, nothing more needed to be said.

“So, what will you be wearing and singing tonight? I would like your eye makeup to make your ensemble.”

The smile appeared back on her face, “I’m wearing a red corset with red stilettos. And singing “Woman’s World” by Cher.”

I let out a gasp and placed a hand over my racing heart, “You and I will get along splendidly if I do say so myself. A woman after my own heart, strutting her stuff on stage and singing Cher.” A mock sadness overcame my voice, “To only be able to dance without looking like a complete fool. It is absolutely a sin for a gay man such as myself not to be able to bust out a marvelous dance.”

“You’re lying, you really can’t dance? I’ve watched you walk and your diva-esque movements, you can’t stand there and tell me that you absolutely cannot dance.”

I raised my arm and had three fingers together, “Scouts honor,” then burst out laughing because the mere thought of me being a boy scout was hilarious. I wouldn’t last one night out in the wilderness and my idea of starting a fire in a bind was using aerosol hairspray and a lighter. “Oh that’s a lie, I’d the worst Boy Scout in history. But I really can’t dance, a friend of mine tried to teach me once…” There was no possible way I could finish that sentence, Tessa really wasn’t the best person to try and teach me anyways.

“She must’ve been a shit teacher then. Walk around the room in your best catwalk way.”

The request was borderline absurd but fashion week was a favorite of mine and I had tried my hand at a model walk a time…or twenty, so what the hell. I laid down the brush I was using on Gwen’s eyes and started my strut. I placed my hands on my hips and wiggled my ass and shook my hips. This walk wasn’t that far off from my normal walk so it was easy as pie to complete.

“Now, let me see you dance.”

A look of pure dread must’ve appeared on my face because she tilted her head back and let out the cutest little giggle. She walked over and placed her phone on a speaker dock and within moments “Naughty Girl” by Beyoncé filled the room. I was convinced that we were musical soul sisters, both having the same taste in music.

Knowing that I could do a few basic movements as I’ve had more than enough practice doing so on stage, I did some twists and turns and even some leg kicks, nothing too extravagant. It wasn’t that I hated to dance, quite the contrary, I loved it. I just wished that I was better.

“Ok, we know that you can master turning, try something a bit more complex.” She stood in front of me and made a movement to where she bent at the waist, brushing her hands up her legs as she stood up and making a little popping with her hips to finish it off.

Raising a brow, she was waiting for me to attempt that little maneuver, when I was fairly certain it was going to end up looking like a car wreck that you just couldn’t look away from.

I tried my best following her dance move, bending at the waist just as her, but somewhere in between pulling my arms up my long legs and popping my hip, something actually popped. Brought a whole new meaning to pop, lock, and drop it.

I knew she was trying her hardest to stifle her laughter but in the end the amusement won and she giggled once again. “Ok, I think I know what went wrong. I don’t have much time before I have to go out on stage, but I want you to think about this. You said that you are a singer, when you listen to the song do you just hear the words or the actual beat? As hard as it may be try tuning out the words for a bit and just let the beat consume you. I know for a fact that you can move, but when you try to dance just stiffen up for some reason. You need to just let your hips move freely and see where it takes you.”

She moved behind a silk changing screen no doubt to change into her costume for her number, “I teach a class tomorrow, it’s at three. You should come. Just wear some kind of workout attire and bring some water,” she added as she threw her jogging shorts over the neck height wall. She really didn’t know me, because I didn’t have anything in my wardrobe that would constitute as workout attire. Those two words weren’t in my weekly vocabulary.

But I was going to take her advice to heart and think about accepting her invitation.

She emerged out from behind the screen with her cherry red corset and took turns placing a hand on the edge of her director’s chair so she could slip her feet into her equally as red stiletto heels.

Finally walking towards the mirror she inched her face closer inspecting my work, “Great work, you really have an eye for detail. And you cannot tell in the least bit that I had rings under my eyes the color of violet.” Squirting a dollop of hair glue in the palm of her hand, she rubbed her fingers together getting an equal amount of the goop on both hands and ran them through her hair making the strands stand up in every which way. Just the simple movement did wonders on her flat, drab hair. If I weren’t an actual witness to this process I would’ve thought it took more than just a few seconds and a hand through the hair. Hell, I took longer time on my hair than that.

“You should stay for the performance,” she glanced at me through the mirror, “I would love it if you did.” The last thing she did was touch up her lipstick and turned around giving me a kiss on my cheek and a ‘Thank You’ before the whirlwind known as Gwen Shaw bounced out of the room.

I couldn’t really put my finger on it but I really liked the girl and equally was confused by her. She was an enigma that I was determined to get to the bottom of.

Quickly packing up my makeup in their respective spots, I made the decision that I was going to watch her dance before I left to go home. As I walked down the back hallway towards the stage I heard the beginnings of Cher’s “Woman’s World” and hurried up just a bit faster.

Making it to where I could peek out behind the thick black velvet curtain, I watched her back as she worked it for the crowd and they were eating her up. She was dancing alone just as the song suggested. I tried to not focus on the words and just the beat as she advised me to do. And after a few beats I could feel my hips begin to move to match the music. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as hard as I initially thought.

Now to get Gwen to realize that this just wasn’t a man’s world, that it was in fact a woman’s world as well, that was going to take time. She needed to do the opposite of me and actually listen to the words in the song and the message that Cher was conveying. I didn’t know if Gwen was going to be strong enough to make it as the owner of Big Pete’s, but I intended to find out.

Toby

After another fitful night of sleep and a luscious dream that quickly turned into a nightmare starring Ethan Bradley, I was up with the God-awful chickens. I never ever understood that term but now that I was awake for the day before the sun, I now didn’t like it either.

It was mornings like this when I couldn’t sleep where I used to find myself calling Gio just to hear his voice. I took my phone from off of my nightstand and scrolled to his name in my contacts list, and paused my thumb to where it was hovering over his name. All it would take was one quick tap of my finger and it would connect me with my past, too bad my past and future didn’t coincide. Instead I suppressed my urges and backed out of my contact app, and decided to get up and get my day started instead.

I took my morning brewed coffee out to my small back patio and sat down on the nearest seat. I watched the sunrise over the horizon and mentally made the plan that if I got my laundry completed and my Sunday chores taken care of, I would attend the class that Gwen was teaching at Big Pete’s.

The air was cool as the wind breezed against my skin, it wasn’t every day that I went outside in anything other than standard Toby attire. I normally cleaned house in some type of shorts and a fitted shirt. It wasn’t mesh type shorts because just the idea of me wearing them was enough to make me sick. No they were linen, everyday khaki type shorts that showcased my untanned legs. Completely unflattering, but I couldn’t be glamorous every second of every day.

Finishing up my second cup of coffee, I took the quietness as time to reflect about my dream. It started off as a wonderful dream, I was up on stage at Emmy Lou’s doing what I did best, entertaining the crowd and it ended with everyone morphing into Ethan Bradley. So I had hundreds of Ethan Bradley’s standing next to one another and double as many eyes staring at me. It aroused me as well as freaked me the hell out. I didn’t know what my obsession with that man was, but I was bound to get him out of my head. We were friends, if I could even label us as that, and that was all it was ever going to be. That was the problem, I didn’t think that I actually wanted him, it was disturbing and frustrating as hell.

I decided to quit trying to over analyze everything and get a move on with cleaning my house.

Laundry and tidying up took no time at all, I believe it helped when I was the only person who lived here and I was tidy as it was. It was my two cats who wreaked havoc on my hardwood flooring, carpeting, and furniture. I swear I had to vacuum up after them twice a week due to their incessant shedding. The small price I had to pay for two gloriously beautiful Persian felines.

Having the time to spare I decided to take a bubble bath, I was long overdue for one and the aroma of the incense I burned during was calling my senses. I filled up the tub with water, added a capful of my favorite bubble bath, and swirled my hand around in the warm liquid to get the bubbles to form. Lighting several candles and strategically placing them throughout my bathroom, I stripped out of my clothes and eased myself lower until my entire body was submerged in the suds.