21. We’re gonna need a bigger boat
WE’RE GONNA NEED A BIGGER BOAT
An industry party invitation was the last thing I expected on a Tuesday night.
“I do not attend many of these wankfests, but this one I could not escape.” Rafael said from the closet. “Forgive me for the last minute plans. Kathy threatened to blacklist me if I skipped out again.”
I blended my eyeshadow. “Kathy must have a lot of clout.” Hard to imagine anyone making this massive, volatile man do anything against his will.
“She knows literally everyone.” He emerged wearing a tuxedo jacket over a black kilt, and I dropped my eyeliner mid-lining. At my expression, he looked down at himself. “What? Too much cultural appropriation? With the way you wrote about kilts, I thought you would like it.”
I blinked, rebooting my brain. “Guh. Sorry, the author’s poorly disguised fetish just made an appearance, and the author wasn’t prepared for how fucking hot it is.”
Rafael laughed, extending his leg to show off his tall boots. “How Victorian of you to get the vapors from a kneecap.”
I snorted. “‘He says as he flexes his ridiculously defined quads’. Better watch out for all the lusty short folks if you’re going out wearing a kilt, you long-legged ho.”
Laughing harder, he slowly lifted the hem of his kilt to expose more of his thigh.
“Whew, stop! I’m gonna pass out.” I stood, dabbing carefully at watering eyes. “You really are my big tiddy goth boyfriend.”
He’d thoughtfully ordered a few dresses for me to choose from since we hadn’t had time to go shopping.
The others were more interesting, but Rafael’s lascivious reaction to a simple black silk gown’s plunging neckline sold me on it.
Gathers on the bias flattered my boxy waist and made me look taller.
Red ombre platform heels took me to just over six feet.
Once upon a time, I’d shrunk myself to keep boyfriends from feeling insecure.
I’d even completely stopped wearing heels—not that I was great in them to begin with.
Thankfully, I could never bring myself to get rid of these shoes.
Never again would I make myself small for a man.
Nor would Rafael ask it of me. If anything, I wanted to grow to match his confidence.
Rafael wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and stared at us in the full-length mirror. “You look ravishing.”
I raked my fingers over my scalp in frustration. “Thank you, but I have no idea what to do with my hair.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life?”
“With your hair.”
“I mean, sure.”
Rafael grabbed a brush and some bobby pins from a vanity drawer. He pulled my hair into a low tail, twisted it, and pinned it in place. “There, a chignon is classic.”
It was perfect. “God, I love dating a bisexual man with fabulous hair.”
He laughed. “Now you need jewelry.”
My heart sank. “I don’t really have any.”
The vast majority of my jewelry was cheap costume. I loved my quirky acrylic pieces, but that wouldn’t do for a formal event. The only real stuff I had was small, outdated family heirlooms. Definitely not suited to a formal event.
Rafael dug in the closet and came back with three navy leather jewelry boxes stamped ‘Mikimoto.’ He set them on the vanity and gently turned me to face the mirror.
Around my neck, he draped an exquisite black pearl lariat necklace with a diamond clasp meant to be worn in the front.
Spaced apart on a white gold chain, an oil slick sheen danced across the pearls’ surfaces.
“This is gorgeous!” I cautiously touched the pearl dangling at the loose end of the lariat.
“The pearls move.” He slid them back and forth on the chain. They stayed where he positioned them.
“I’ve never worn anything this nice before.” Worry caught me in its teeth. “Are you sure? What if I mess it up?”
Rafael cupped my chin. “It is not that fragile. Just do not spray pearls with perfume or hairspray.”
He clasped the matching bracelet around my wrist. The earrings had two pearls each in graduated sizes on a white gold chain suspended from a little diamond ball.
I put them in my ears with exaggerated care. “Why do you have these?”
He took my hand and kissed the palm. “Would you like the truth or a pretty lie?”
My stomach did a backflip, but I chose courage. “The truth, please.”
“I bought the set for Molly, but never had the chance to give them to her before everything went to shit, and I liked the pearls too much to return them. If you do not want to wear them, I understand.”
“Do you associate these pieces with her? No? Then that’s silly. I’d love to wear them.”
His smile was full of relief. “I appreciate your pragmatism. Do not worry. I will not foist castoffs on you in the future.”
I twirled in the mirror. “If all the castoffs are this nice, I’ll take ‘em. If I’m your windup girl, then it’s only fair you get to dress me up.”
Eye crinkles. He liked that.
Rafael drove slower than usual, and let me put on a Sleep Token album. The growling guitars and Vessel’s familiar, plaintive vocals relaxed me. Given that the venue was in Emerald Hills, I was grateful for the gentler pace through the narrow, winding streets.
We came to a grand white Victorian. Rafael gave the keys to a valet and escorted me inside.
Past the foyer with an enormous marble staircase, we stepped into the main ballroom, into the sparkling sea of beautiful people.
The weight of eyes landing on us stole my breath.
I stumbled against him, and he steadied me.
“These people are not better than you,” Rafael whispered.
I dug my fingernails into my palms and took a deep breath. Rafael waved over a passing server and snagged two glasses of champagne.
“Oh my god, you actually came!” A bearded, round-faced man with deep brown skin and sparkling eyes hurried over.
He wore an ivory shirt open to the waist, showing off his dadbod and tasteful gold necklaces, with draped, loose ivory pants and gold sandals.
A beaded brocade corset belt cinched it all together.
I couldn’t help myself. “Your outfit is gorgeous! I mean, you’re gorgeous too. I just really love what you’re wearing.”
“Oh, I like you already. Mm hmm, I’m a whole banquet.” He gave me a spin and tossed his shining, shoulder-length black hair. “Rafael, who is this enchanting creature?” Taking my hand with a flourish, he kissed it. “She’s far too good for you.”
I laughed, delighted.
“She is.” Rafael laid a hand on my shoulder, almost possessively. “Elaine Parham, this is Mandeep Singh.”
Mandeep shook my hand with so much enthusiasm his bracelets chimed. “So lovely to meet you!”
He clasped both hands over mine. Normally, that much physical contact from a stranger set my teeth on edge, but Mandeep’s effusive warmth felt safe.
“You, too! How do you know each other?”
He grinned up at Rafael so brightly I had to squint. “We dated briefly.”
My stomach dropped.
Mandeep laughed and patted my hand, releasing it. “No, girl, it was a disaster. I couldn’t take his mood swings. He hated my unwavering positivity and dedication to glamor, because he’s determined to be miserable. Completely incompatible. We were doomed from the start.”
Rafael exhaled through his nose. “Must you always say all of that?”
Mandeep bobbed his head from side to side, grin unwavering. “See? Miserable, I told you.” He thumbed one of the elaborate gold chains around his neck. “I tried to give this beautiful piece to that ingrate, but he threatened to melt it down for scrap. Can you imagine? Spiteful!”
I liked Mandeep immensely. “He’s definitely ornery.”
“We are much better as colleagues; trust.”
“Mandeep is also a composer,” Rafael said. Was he actually bored or trying to sound like it? “We collaborate sometimes.”
“Someone has to infuse a little sunshine into your doldrums.” Mandeep winked at me. “Rafa pretends we aren’t friends because it fucks up his tortured musician image.”
Rafael folded his arms, shifting his weight onto one hip. “You are the most annoyingly cheerful person I have ever met. We are not friends.”
The sparkling man blissfully ignored him. “Tell me, gorgeous. How did you talk this grouch into leaving his trash can?”
I snorted. “I can’t take credit for that. It was Kathy Friedman’s doing.”
Mandeep clapped a hand against his thigh. “That old battleaxe, of course! I swear, she’s the only person who can bully Rafael into changing his mind.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “Careful, he projects all his weird mommy issues onto her.”
The cackle burst from my lips against my will.
“Shut the fuck up, Manny.” Rafael’s tone was tired rather than hostile.
“You first, Rafa.” Mandeep batted his eyelashes.
The tiniest smile cracked Rafael’s facade of aloof disdain.
I beamed at them both. “Y’all are adorable.”
Rafael glared. Mandeep reflected back my smile. Night and day.
Someone called Mandeep’s name, and he waved.
“Gotta run!” He slapped Rafael’s arm. “Love ya, bitch, but I’ve been trying to catch Ja Seng’s ear for ages now.
She’s impossible to pin down.” He blew effusive kisses at me as he glided away in a cloud of sunlight and sparkles. “Lovely to meet you, Elaine!”
“You too!” I tugged at Rafael’s sleeve. “Well, he’s a goddamn delight. ‘Rafa’, huh?” Was I jealous? Maybe a little, just for the shared history.
He arched an imperious brow. “‘Laney’, huh?”
I laughed. “Ok sassy, I was just asking.”
We meandered through the crowd, arm in arm.
Heads turned everywhere Rafael went. He pointed out singers, songwriters, and even a few famous actors.
All the creative talent wore eccentrically stylish clothes; some bordering on outlandish.
Mandeep’s outfit actually paled in comparison to the theatrically sequined ensembles swanning around the floor.
One singer I vaguely recognized was dressed as a literal swan, like a reimagining of Bjork’s famous look.