Page 73 of Don't Be in Love

“Eagle-pitched laughter, followed by her urgency to ask you or Dorian.”

“Me and Dorian?”

“You know a lot about fashion, so you have a very artistic eye. And Dorian is plastered across half of London on cologne ads.” I waved my hand.

“I tend to forget about that,” he said. “Well, I’m nowhere near a model but I’d obviously help. We’d both help.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but that’s not what I meant. I’ll figure it out.” I smiled appreciatively.

“He’s been dodging me all week too, if it makes you feel better,” he reassured me. Not that I needed reassurance.

I told Dorian to stay away from me. Whether he was choosing to ignore me now or was busy figuring out what flavor Victoria’s lip gloss was, I didn’t care.

“He tends to isolate himself when everyone’s talking about him. I’m going to assume you know about the article seeing as you were … ya know. It may be everywhere right now, but it’ll blow over. They always do, so don’t think too much about it,” he advised, reaching for my palm and squeezing. I squeezed back. “You have a project to worry about anyways.”

If Dorian was catastrophic storms, then James was the light rain that followed. His voice always quiet and comforting like small patters of rain droplets against your window on a summer night.

“When do you need your photos by?” he asked.

“Next Friday.” Right before my birthday.

Next weekend I had plans with both Iris and Dotty, and Mia and Brina. If I missed either because of assignments, they may actually drag me out the door with my laptop glued to my fingertips.

“Dorian and I have some red carpet event this weekend. You could stop by then, if that works?” he asked.

Could one even “stop by” a red carpet? “James, that sounds like a huge inconvenience.”

“I’d actually have something to look forward to if you came. Not that Dorian isn’t great company, but you know what I mean.”

“I really don’t think he would appreciate me showing up in the middle of that,” I argued.

“You guys can’t avoid each other forever.”

He was right. It had already been two weeks. I couldn’t avoid him forever. Especially when I was so worried about him keeping our promise intact.

“He wants to see you,” he finished.

Thatpierced my chest like a serrated dagger through the skin. It was lodged in there. No chance of getting those words out now. Not until I saw him for himself and was able to determine if that was true.

“How about this: come early before I even meet up with Dorian. That way there’s no pressure to see him,” he offered.

“Did I ever mention that you were my favorite human?”

“Not nearly enough.” He attempted to hide a satisfied smile. “It’s at Leicester Square. I’ll send you everything you need.”

“If you change your mind—”

“I won’t. Now I’ll let you get back to—well, working? What are you doing right now? I thought you were supposed to be on a break.”

I looked at the internship listings on my laptop and then glanced back at him.

I could ask him right now. Ask him if Beverly would notice if I applied to more than one position. Ask him if I should include my volunteer work or sacrifice it for my hobbies, since there was only room for one when my internships took up the rest of my resume. Would Beverly want someone who was passionate about helping the community or had an interest in fashionable DIYs?

“Just proofreading,” I lied. Another lie with another friend. “Is there anywhere nearby to get a stamp?”

26

Don’t Button Up His Shirt — Adelaide