BeautyandtheButch (7 page)

“You knew when you signed on that the reality show business
was no place for the tenderhearted. As your executive producer, I’m ordering
you to mic that girl up and film the meltdown,” Nigel said. “And see if you can
get a second interview with her father.”

* * * * *

Ella glanced at her cell phone and winced as HOME CALLING
flashed on the screen. She couldn’t face talking to her parents right now. Not
over the phone.

A stagnant silence followed after the phone stopped ringing.
Ella expected it to immediately ring again, but instead the voice mail button
lit up. She couldn’t ignore them forever. She snatched the phone and hit Play.

“Ella.” Her father sounded tense and stressed. “I’ve spoken
to my publicist. Whatever you do, don’t speak to the media and for God’s sakes
don’t be seen or photographed with that…that woman again. Get yourself home and
we’ll begin damage control from here but you can kiss your teaching job goodbye.
I’ve already gotten a call from the superintendent.”

Ella squeezed her eyes shut. Being kicked out of the pageant
was humiliating enough, but to embarrass her father or to hurt his position in
Congress…

And yet a bigger part of her than she wanted to give
credence to was angry that her relationship with another woman served as the
cause of this turmoil. Why did a person’s sexual orientation have to be
considered scandalous?

The rebellious side of her wanted to throw caution out the
window and proudly declare herself a lesbian and have it be over with. The only
thing keeping her from it now was her dad.

Without caring, she raked her cosmetics off the bathroom
counter and into her makeup bag. She wanted away from here.

The phone vibrated again and she looked down expecting to
discover a return call from home. Instead LINDSEY MITCHELL flashed across the
screen. Ella’s heart leaped in her chest. She reached for her cell but then
stopped. Lindsey wouldn’t have betrayed her.

Would she?

Fear and doubt gnawed at Ella’s insides. Still, she wasn’t
stupid. Outing her would mean a ratings boost for the show Lindsey produced.
Ella didn’t want to believe the woman who’d so quickly captured her interest
would mislead her but in truth she really didn’t know Lindsey.

Confused and heartsore, Ella punched the ignore button and
continued packing. She didn’t want to see anyone. Not even Lindsey.

Three soft raps came from the door.

Ella whirled and her gaze fixed on the peephole. She wished
she could see through it from where she stood. She gulped. At first her pulse
rioted at the thought of Lindsey coming to comfort her but harsh reality came
crashing down hard around her.

What if the media was outside, waiting to snap yet another
picture of Lindsey coming and going from her room?

“Who is it?” she called.

“Ella?” an unfamiliar voice said. “I’m Natalie Griggs with
the Femme Coalition.”

Ella had heard of the lesbian rights group on the news. What
could they possibly want other than to make her their cause of the day? She
stepped closer to the door. “I’m sorry, Ms. Griggs. I’m not up to seeing anyone
right now.”

“I realize that,” the woman said, “but I have a check for
your cause. Triple the amount you would have received for your charity had you
gone on to win the pageant.”

At that, Ella’s heart skipped a beat. “A check?”

“Please open the door. I’m here alone. I understand your
need for privacy. I just want you to know that you have friends and
supporters.”

Ella reached for the doorknob.

* * * * *

“Ella, pick up,” Lindsey said, pacing in her circles in her
room. When the call went to voice mail, Lindsey growled in frustration and
tossed the phone on the bed next to her duffle bag.

She wanted to cry, to pull her hair, to stamp her feet like
a kid throwing a tantrum. This was all her fault. If only…

“Dammit,” she said through clenched teeth.

A loud knock sounded on the door and she yanked it open,
hoping beyond hope Ella was on the other side.

It was Maurice. “I got a call from Nigel.”

“Yeah, well…” She raked her fingers through her hair.

Maurice eyed her bag. “You cuttin’ out?”

Lindsey shrugged. “Yeah.”

Maurice’s eyes widened. “You can’t. Nigel practically
ordered me to film the Northington girl.”

“Yeah, me too,” Lindsey said. “I’m not going to do it. I
quit.”

“Quit?”

Lindsey nodded.

Maurice heaved a heavy-hearted sigh.

“I’m not going to do that to her,” Lindsey reiterated.

“Shit, Lindsey. You quit?” he asked again.

“Hell yes,” Lindsey said as anger broiled to the surface
once more. “I just told Nigel I wasn’t going to film her. I stopped short of
telling him where he could stick his boom mic. I guess that blew my chances for
that job with
Global Now
.”

“A little bit.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to do it
either, but I can’t quit.”

“Then I guess you better collect all the equipment.” Lindsey
gestured to the cameras she’d neatly bagged and lined up on the desk.

He took a deep breath and blew it out in a loud huff before
he strode in and collected two of the cameras. “Damn. Want me to tell her
anything for you?”

Lindsey debated but the idea of having Maurice apologize for
her made her seem like a cold-hearted coward. “No. But do you mind holding off
for a while? I need to talk to her first.”

“No problem.”

She looked into his eyes for a moment. She was going to miss
working with him. She playfully punched his meaty arm. “For a dude you’re all
right.”

He chuckled.

“I’m going to miss you, you big lug,” she said and blinked
back a tear.

“Get on out of here,” he teased. “Before you make me squall
like a baby.”

She gave him a little nod, snatched her phone and then
darted out the door, heading up to Ella’s room.

As soon as she stepped off the elevator, her heart hurtled
into her Chuck Taylor high-tops. The maid’s cart was parked outside the open
door. Would Ella really have gone without talking to her first?

Lindsey stopped at the door.

“
Si
?” the maid asked, stepping out with a bundle of
white sheets.

“Is the woman who was staying here… Did she…did she leave
already?”

The maid shrugged. “They told me the room was ready to
clean,” she said in heavily accented English.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. “Thanks,” she said quickly
to the maid as she retrieved her phone.
Be Ella. Be in the lobby or in my
room.

But Lindsey didn’t recognize the number. She answered the
call. “Lindsey Mitchell.”

“Miss Mitchell, this is Arthur Schuessler, Joe Northington’s
publicist.”

Lindsey’s blood turned to ice. She knew what she was about
to hear. “Yes?”

“On behalf of the Northington family, I’m asking you to
refrain from contacting Ella, from calling her, and especially from being seen
and photographed with her. I’ll even go so far as to ask you not to speak to
the press regarding this issue as the Northingtons would prefer to handle the
matter privately.”

Lindsey didn’t like being told what to do. “I haven’t done
anything wrong, Mr. Schuessler.”

She heard a little snort of derision through the phone.
“That remains to be seen. An investigation into TLN and your ethics as a
producer wouldn’t make you very…shall we say
attractive
to future
employers?”

They were practically blackmailing her. Lindsey bit her
bottom lip to keep from telling him what she really thought. She certainly
didn’t want any blowback on the network. None of this was TLN’s fault.

“May I be blunt?” Schuessler asked.

The audacity!
“Be my guest,” Lindsey said, not
masking her sarcasm.

“Miss Northington herself has requested that you cease all
contact with her.”

Just like Reagan.
Lindsey stood in stunned silence.
She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to steel herself, grappling to not let
him hear the hurt in her voice. “You tell her she has nothing to worry about
from me.”

She couldn’t hit the End Call button fast enough.

In spite of everything, it had happened to her again. She’d
risked her emotions with someone unattainable. She’d known she was diving in
head-first. She’d known how it would end. She wanted to kick herself. Hard.

“Fuck,” she said under her breath. But at least she’d done
the right thing. At least she still had her dignity. She might have fucked up.
But she hadn’t used someone she cared about to claw her way to the top.

But none of that offered her any solace. For the first time
in a long time, she realized she wanted a relationship, a soft place to fall, a
partner and lover.

No. It wasn’t just those attributes. She wanted Ella.

Now Ella was gone.

Six months later

“How’s that?” the makeup artist asked as she stepped back so
that Ella could see her reflection in the mirror.

She looked older in spite of her years. Seasoned.

No. At peace.

She turned from side to side. She’d have to remember this
eye shadow trick. “Nice. Thank you.”

One of the assistant producers for
Global Now
tapped
on the open door. He glanced at his clipboard and then back up. “Five minutes,
Miss Northington.”

“Good luck,” the makeup artist said as she removed the drape
protecting Ella’s navy suit and then disappeared from the room.

Ella nodded and drew in a deep breath. Going against her father’s
publicist, she’d done a whirlwind of appearances, speeches, and talk shows
since being outed. At first she had wanted solitude but after Natalie and the
Femme Coalition’s generous donation for cystic fibrosis research, Ella realized
she finally had the platform she needed to bring awareness to the disease.

In addition, she’d taken on another cause. LGBT rights. Even
her father—after a certain amount of soul-searching—fired his publicist and
began working within his party as an advocate for LGBT rights. Espousing
moderate and fair policies, he’d been elected hands down over his opponent.

The pageant that had practically launched her career as a
spokesperson for LGBT issues now seemed far in the past, even though it had
only been six months. Marquita had deservedly won. Chelsea had come in
runner-up and then had been forced to give up her position after making a
public slur against gays. Ella hadn’t looked back—with one exception.

Not a night passed that she didn’t recall the joy she’d
found in Lindsey’s arms. She’d picked up her phone to call Lindsey a thousand
times, but indecision and doubt had swamped her before she’d been able to hit
Send. Instead Ella had waited for a call.

A call that never came.

Perhaps Lindsey had merely been climbing the success ladder.
Part of Ella didn’t want to know if that were the case.

A soft rap on the door caught her attention and she turned,
expecting the young male producer to alert her it was time to go on.

But her lips parted in surprise. Standing in the doorway was
Lindsey as Ella had never seen her.

Her spiky hair had been styled in a short yet far more
sophisticated look. She wore adorable black-rimmed glasses and minimal makeup.
Without her piercings, she looked like a sexy businesswoman instead of a punk
rocker. A dark suit hugged her body, giving her the illusion of feminine
curves. A tribal tat winding around her calf was the only edgy thing that
reminded Ella of the old Lindsey. Well, that—and the killer pair of bright-blue
Louboutins.

Even in a skirt, Lindsey’s alpha-female sexuality caused a
swirl of desire to warm Ella from the inside out.

Lindsey pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Hi, princess.”

Ella’s heart hammered against her ribcage. She gave Lindsey
a demure smile as all the moments they’d spent making love rushed back over her
in a sweltering torrent. “I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lindsey said. “But they expect me to look
professional and all.”

Ella laced her own fingers together to keep her hands from
shaking. “Where are you working?”

“Here. I’m the executive producer. Turns out standing up for
myself wasn’t a career-killer after all.”

“Congratulations.” Oh dear Lord, this was so awkward. All
Ella really wanted to do was launch herself into Lindsey’s arms and kiss her.

“I…I sort of quit TLN.”

“Sort of quit? When?” Ella hadn’t even watched the show when
it aired. She’d never known.

“There really wasn’t much
sort of
to it. I quit that
day—after I refused to continue filming.” Lindsey lowered her lashes. Damn, she
was so beautiful. “About what happened…”

“Don’t explain,” Ella blurted, the idea of Lindsey quitting
her job turning over and over in her head.

“I need to.” Lindsey shook her head. “Ella, I’m sorry. I
didn’t know. We…
I
should have been more careful. I should have never
kissed you in the hall like that. I should have realized one of those catty
bitches would be waiting to strike and take full advantage of it.”

Ella pursed her lips. “I think on some level I wanted to
come out. It was the only way it could have happened for me. I don’t regret
it.”

“Good,” Lindsey said. Her shoulders dropped as if she’d
released a heavy weight. “Because I’ve regretted it every day. I wanted to call
you. I tried several times, but I was afraid you’d blame me. And…well, I didn’t
want to go against your wishes and seem like some sort of lame stalker.”

“Against my wishes?” Ella asked. “What do you mean?”

“That Schuessler fucker.”

Realization made Ella’s stomach twist. “He called you?”

“Practically threatened me.”

Ella let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I wish I’d known. My dad
fired him and if it makes you feel any better, he’s doing a sixty-day stint for
a second DUI.”

Lindsey smiled. “Karma’s a bitch.”

Ella stood. God, her knees were shaking. “I wouldn’t have
been happy going back to north Georgia and becoming a schoolteacher. I would
have hated it. I didn’t want to live a lie anymore. I…I was planning to tell
you when the pageant was over.”

Lindsey’s eyes darkened. “You were?”

Ella nodded. “I know how we left things…I know what we
discussed—that you weren’t really interested in a relationship, but—”

Lindsey interrupted. “All I’ve been able to think about is
you.”

Ella couldn’t take a breath. “Me too.” She blinked against
hot tears. She searched frantically for a tissue.

Lindsey crossed the small room, pulled one out of the box
and handed it to her. Their hands brushed and their fingers flirted. “What do
you say, princess? Want to try this for real?”

Searching Lindsey’s eyes, Ella swallowed thickly. Everything
she’d ever wanted was possible for her because of this woman. She could think
of nothing she wanted more than exploring a real relationship with her.
“Starting now,” Ella whispered as she took that kiss she’d been wanting without
so much as a care for her expertly applied lipstick.