Chapter 16 #2
Ryan appreciated the hug and squeezed Art in return. Seconds ago, he’d been so proud of himself for standing strong on his own two feet, but having someone to embrace him and to feel that support meant so much more than stark independence.
“He really was scary,” Graeme said, coming over to join them.
Art rocked back a little, reaching for Graeme and pulling him into the hug. Graeme was surprised at first and nearly lost his balance, but soon enough they were one mass of arms and bodies locked in an embrace.
And Ryan loved it. He loved the feeling that he wasn’t alone. He was part of something bigger than himself. Without both Graeme and Art by his side, he might have easily caved in to whatever Giorgio wanted.
“Why do you think he’s so eager to have you go back to designing for him?” Graeme asked once the hug had performed its purpose and they inched back from each other.
“Our man said it best himself,” Art pointed out. “The old geezer is probably out of ideas. Or he wants Ryan to come work for him because he’s threatened by the competition.”
“It could be any or all of those things,” Ryan said with a sigh. He rubbed a hand over his face, then reached for his tea. Goddess, he needed that tea! “Giorgio hasn’t done much of his own designing for years.”
“So it is a competitive thing,” Graeme said. He smiled and went on with, “At least it’s nice to know a major fashion designer is threatened by you.”
“I also think he just wants you,” Art teased. “And who wouldn’t want to have a tall, gorgeous, lovely man like this at their beck and call for all sorts of shenanigans?” He slid back up against Ryan’s side, curling around him and nearly making him spill his tea.
Ryan laughed. “I swear, I’m not half as important as you two seem to think I am. I haven’t really proved myself on my own.”
“You’re pretty amazing,” Graeme said, all blushes and softness that made Ryan want to continue what they’d almost started up in the attic.
“You’re the amazing ones,” Ryan said, glancing around for someplace to put his mug so he could get touchy-feely with both of his boyfriends.
He’d only just managed to wriggle out of Art’s embrace and put the mug down when his phone rang. It had been in his back pocket the whole time, and though he was tempted to just ignore it, something told him not to.
It was a good thing he checked. Adam’s name flashed up, making him instantly anxious.
Ryan checked with both Art and Graeme before answering, “Hello, Adam.”
“Hi, Ryan.” Adam’s voice was tense and apologetic. “I’m glad I caught you.”
“Is something wrong?” Ryan asked, a sinking feeling forming in his gut.
Adam sighed. “There’s been a change in the line-up for Fashion Week,” he said.
Ryan took a half step back and sank to sit on the arm of the big chair. “And?”
“And I’m going to have to change your spot,” Adam said.
It wasn’t great news, but Adam hadn’t said he would be cut entirely. “Alright,” he said. “When do you need to change it to?”
“Well,” Adam said, “I can’t get you into 180 The Strand anymore. The best I can do is to squeeze you in at The Wallace Collection, and the only time slot I’ve got is one in the afternoon. On Thursday.”
Ryan gusted out a breath. Giorgio worked fast, the bastard. “I…um…I guess I have to take it,” he said, brain completely frozen with the unfairness of it all.
“I’m so sorry about this,” Adam said. “The decision was just made, it was fast, and it was definitive. To be honest, I was supposed to drop you entirely, but this slot just opened up.”
“Yeah, thanks, Adam. I’ll take whatever I can get,” Ryan said, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries and Adam promised to email Ryan with more details, but just like that, the call was over and Ryan’s life had been lurched in an all-new direction once more.
For a second, he couldn’t do anything but stand there, staring at nothing, the seeds of the panic he knew he’d be feeling in a few minutes swelling within him.
“What?” Art asked, sitting on the arm of the chair with Ryan. “What is it? What was that all about?”
Ryan took a second to gather himself before glancing up at Art, then on to Graeme. “Giorgio tried to get me kicked out of Fashion Week.”
“Already? Graeme gaped. “That was fast.”
“That absolute bastard!” Art snapped, beautifully furious for Ryan’s sake.
“It didn’t sound like you were kicked out, though,” Graeme said, moving to stand right next to Ryan.
Ryan grinned weakly and slid his arm around Graeme’s waist, pulling him close enough to rest his head against Graeme’s firm chest. He felt Graeme’s heart beat against his cheek, and against all odds, that made him feel better.
He took a breath and pulled back, standing and letting go of both his men. “I’m not out of the show entirely,” he said. “I’ve been moved to a secondary venue and given a shitty time slot, but I’m not out.”
“Well, that’s good at least,” Graeme said. “Isn’t it?”
“It’s better than nothing,” Art said, standing as well.
Ryan’s tenuous grasp on hope faltered. “Except for the fact that I have no ideas and even less time to pull this whole thing off.”
“We’ll help you,” Graeme insisted, glancing to Art and nodding. “Whatever it takes, we can help you.”
“Absolutely,” Art said. “We will be there for you every step of the way. I’ll even learn to sew. Graeme can walk the runway in your showstopper gown if he needs to.”
Graeme balked, then burst into laughter. Art laughed with him, his eyes shining with affection for Graeme. It gave Ryan hope and made him count his lucky stars that he had these two amazing men with him every step of the way.
“We can do this,” he said. “I might be stuck with one o’clock on a Thursday, but there will still be buyers and press there. It could be so much worse.”
Art nodded in agreement, but Graeme’s smile suddenly dropped. “Thursday?” he asked.
“Yes?” Ryan’s confidence started to deflate again.
“Thursday the fifth?”
“Yes,” Ryan answered slowly.
Graeme glanced from Ryan to Art and back again. “I have that meeting with Mrs. St. Ives about redesigning her garden on Wednesday the fourth.”
“Can you ask her to change it?” Art asked.
“I don’t think so,” Graeme said, pushing a hand through his hair and looking anxious.
“She’s heading off to visit her daughter the next day, and she said there’s some big event taking place at Penwith Grange for a few days before that.
She was very apologetic, but she has a narrow window of availability.
” He looked stricken as he turned to Ryan and said, “She invited me to stay overnight in Cornwall, and I feel like I have to accept if I want to get the job. I don’t think I can make it back in time for your show. ”
“I’ll go with you,” Art said, jumping in with excitement in his eyes. “I’ll drive you out, and we’ll get up bright and early the next morning, fawn and flatter over Mrs. St. Ives until she gives you the job, then drive back from Cornwall before the show starts.”
“That’s really early,” Graeme said.
Art shrugged. “That just means there won’t be any traffic on the roads. We can absolutely do this.” He held out a hand to Graeme.
Graeme’s smile returned. He took Art’s hand, then turned to Ryan, offering his other hand. “We can do this,” he repeated Art’s words. “We’re stronger together. I’m in way over my head and I know nothing about how threesomes work, but I know we can do more together than we can alone.”
Ryan was so touched his eyes stung with rare tears. He grasped Graeme’s offered hand, then took Art’s with his other, finishing their connection. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” he said, voice rough. “Now, if only I had a decent idea to shape my collection around, it would be—”
Out of nowhere, the idea hit him. It felt like all the rubbish that was blocking the dam of his creativity was suddenly washed aside and a tsunami of ideas flowed in its place.
Triangles started to bounce around in his head, and every design and technique that involved three points swirled together, spitting out images of gowns and suits and every outfit under the sun.
“I’ve got it,” he said, staring straight ahead and just letting the ideas flow.
“Got what?” Art asked. “Because if it’s the clap, then we’ll have to invest in some seriously water-tight prophylactics.”
Graeme laughed, but Ryan was too energized by the ideas hitting him to join in.
“The power of three,” he said. “Three points. Everything in threes.”
“I beg your pardon?” Art asked, blinking rapidly.
“I don’t have any more objection to threes,” Graeme said bashfully.
Ryan loved them all to bits, but he couldn’t afford to stand around being silly anymore. “I have ideas,” he said, letting go of their hands and heading for the door. “All of a sudden, I have so many ideas. I have to get them all down.”
“We’ll help,” Art said, he and Graeme following after him as they left the office and headed back up to the studio.
Ryan wasn’t sure how they could help, but he was confident that they could. Everything was starting to fall into place, and even though it wasn’t even close to what he imagined things would be, it was a start.