Popcorn Love (36 page)

As Allison took a moment to collect herself, a voice
drifted her way that instantly had a wave of tingles rolling down
her spine and pooling at its base.
Elena
.

Allison’s eyes followed the sound and saw the
stunning woman just across the room, her back to Allison, and
heatedly discussing something with a man in an olive-toned tweed
suit. A smile began to creep onto Allison’s face as she made her
way quietly over, ignoring the stares she could feel picking her
apart. As she approached, she overheard the conversation Elena was
having; well, it was more like a lecture.

“I honestly don’t
care
about the reason,
Monroe,” Elena said. “I have absolutely no time or patience for
anyone’s incompetence. We have precisely this one chance to get
this right; thus, I want what I asked for, and I want it yesterday.
Is that understood?”

The man swallowed thickly before nodding and
muttering, “I will call again, and if I have to, I will go over
there myself.”

“See that you do.” Elena waved a hand to dismiss
him.

He scurried off, and Allison had to force herself not
to chuckle at the loud, dramatic sigh Elena let out once the man
had disappeared.

“Man.” Allison cleared her throat. “Remind me to
always give you whatever it is you want.” Elena’s body stiffened
before the woman whirled on the spot and their gazes locked.

“Allison.” A smile touched Elena’s lips. “You made
it.”

“Yup,” Allison said. “Big fashion head, huh?”

“I suppose so, yes.” Elena propped a hand on her hip
with a smirk and tilted her head toward a small room a few feet
away from them. Allison followed her into what she discovered was a
massive closet. It was packed with various pieces of clothing. A
few women lingered in the room, but Elena dismissed them as
well.

“We’re in a closet, Elena.” Allison laughed once the
others were gone. “Insert lesbian joke here.”

Elena smiled even as she rolled her eyes. “I’m glad
you are here, Allison.”

“Me too, though some of the people here are really
hard to like.” She shrugged and shook her head. “Just sayin’, babe.
That receptionist lady downstairs is a real bitch.”

“What happened?” Elena asked, stepping closer and
running a hand down Allison’s arm. “Did she give you trouble?”

“Only if you call her judgmental face and voice and
body language ‘trouble’.” A spark of anger flashed through Elena’s
eyes. “And then I got up here, and some lady asked me if I was lost
and said I had no style. She threatened to call security on
me.”

Elena fumed. “I will have them both fired.”

Allison nearly choked.

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” she said with an awkward
laugh. “They’re probably just not used to people coming in here in
clothes from the Goodwill and asking to see
you
.” She
chuckled again as she scratched at the back of her neck. “It’s
okay. I mean, it sucked, but it is what it is. No need to fire
anyone. Thanks though.”

Elena didn’t appear even remotely convinced. In fact,
Allison thought she looked downright murderous, so before the woman
could go on a firing spree, Allison cleared her throat and nudged
Elena’s arm. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She let out a long sigh. “I don’t ever
want you to feel like you are, in
any
way, lesser than me or
that you somehow do not fit into my life. So, no, it isn’t okay for
anyone to make you feel that way.”

“I’m okay, Elena.”

Elena nodded. “You are now,” she said. “But you
weren’t. I saw it in your eyes.”

Allison sighed and relented with a nod. “Yeah,” she
admitted, “it got under my skin, but only for like a second, okay?
I’m good now.”

“And you know I …” She trailed off, shifting her
weight from one foot to the other.

“You what?” Allison asked. “Do I know that you don’t
give a damn about where I buy my clothes or how much money I’ve got
in my pocket?”

Elena nodded, glancing to the floor.

“Yeah,” Allison whispered, stepping even closer to
kiss the line of Elena’s jaw. “I know, Elena. I just don’t want
you
to ever feel, you know, embarrassed or something by
me.”

Wrapping her arms around Allison, Elena nuzzled her
nose against her ear. “Never,” she whispered. “I promise you that,
Allison.”

Allison held Elena tightly, breathing in the scent of
whatever perfume the woman was wearing. It was rich but not
overwhelming, and Allison inhaled it eagerly. She kept her face
buried in Elena’s neck as she mumbled, “So, for our second date,
you decided to bring me to work with you?”

A light scratch of Elena’s nails along Allison’s
scalp made Allison purr. “For our second date, I wanted to share
something with you that I am passionate about, which just so
happened to entail bringing you to work with me, yes.”

Allison pulled back, smiling as her stomach flipped
and her heart stuttered in her chest.

“Stop,” Elena said, blushing.

“Stop what?” Allison asked, her smile only
growing.

“Smiling like that.” She chuckled.

“Why?” Allison poked at her ribs. “Is it creepy? Is
my smile like totally eating my face right now?”

“Yes.” Elena squirmed under the tickling touch.
“You’ve nothing left but eyes and teeth.”

“Oh good! I always wanted to be a living, breathing
emoticon. Thanks for that.”

Elena caught Allison’s hands to still the tickling
pokes. “It isn’t my fault.”

“It so is. You’re over there being all cute and
wanting to share important things with me. Totally worthy of a
giant, creepy smile.”

Elena rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she
stepped over to the door and motioned for Allison to follow. “Come
along, dear. I’ve much to show you.”

Allison followed her out, feeling on top of the world
again.

* * *

“That was pretty incredible,” Allison said as she
stuck her fork into the small white box of lo mein. She spun the
fork several times until it was basically a noodle popsicle and
then shoved it into her mouth, moaning at the taste.

She hung out with Elena throughout the entire
photo-shoot, learning about the process and Elena’s role in it. It
had been incredibly intriguing, entertaining, and also rather
arousing to see Elena in her element. The woman was a
powerhouse—intelligent and cunning and a force of nature. She knew
exactly what she wanted, and people genuinely respected and damn
near idolized her opinion. It was pretty amazing to witness.

Once the shoot was over, Elena had taken Allison up
to her office on the thirtieth floor where they ordered Chinese
delivery for lunch.

“Have you always been into fashion?” Allison
asked.

Elena chewed her chicken and swallowed. “My job lands
more on the business aspects of the industry, but you really must
have a passion for the intricacies in order to appreciate it
fully.”

“Like what?”

“Many things, honestly. It is much more complex, more
layered than most people realize. It isn’t only a group of size
zeroes and twos prancing around in heels and name brands. That is
merely what you see on the surface. The process behind it, though,
is intricate, and, when you know that process, you come to
appreciate the art of fashion. It isn’t merely about clothing,
Allison. It’s about creating an image from the ground up or,
rather, from the page up. It’s about creating a medium through
which people can truly express themselves.”

Allison swore she could listen to Elena Vega talk
about fashion all day long every day for the rest of her damned
life. The way the woman’s eyes lit up was enough, but it was more
than that; it was the way she dug into it. Elena was passionate
about the entirety of fashion, not just the finished product. She
was invested in it. Her heart was in it, and that was beautiful to
witness and to hear her openly express.

“What many don’t realize is that a great portion of
fashion lies not with the designs but with those wearing the
designs,” Elena said. “For shows and shoots, we bring in people to
complement the designs, true, but the designs are
created
to
complement people. That’s what fashion is all about—people.
Individuals. It is about finding what makes you
you
and
adorning yourself with the outward expression of it. It is about
confidence and self.”

“Confidence?” Allison asked, intrigued. “I always
just kind of thought it was about brand. If you’ve got the right
brands, people assume you’re fashionable, right?”

“Some people, yes,” Elena answered, taking a sip of
her tea. “But frankly,
few
people know as much about fashion
as they like to think they do. Certain labels will gain respect in
this industry, that is true, but a label means nothing without the
confidence to support it.
You
must wear the outfit. You
mustn’t let the
outfit
wear you. You can walk down the
street in the most ridiculous attire, but if you carry your
confidence in your stride, it resonates. That ridiculous outfit
becomes fashionable because of
you,
not because of the
design.”

Allison chuckled. “Yeah,” she said, a little in awe
of the woman across from her. “Yeah, totally. I’ve never even
thought of it that way, but that is so true.”

Elena grinned as she popped a bite of steamed
vegetables into her mouth. “I’m sure you have seen some of the
positively ludicrous or even horrid designs on the red carpet
deemed fashionable or positively to-die-for by the media. Those
designs do not,
could not,
sell themselves. It is the wearer
selling the design, not the other way around. That, of course,
isn’t to say that some pieces aren’t truly stunning, because the
majority of them are, but anyone who believes high-waist shorts and
pants are gorgeous designs is severely misguided. Those designs
never should have been revived; however, they work. They work
because of the confidence carrying them down the runway or down the
city street. One can often learn much about another person by his
or her attire—the colors, the material, the angling, the patterns,
the fit, the style.
That,
to me, is fashion, Allison.
Fashion isn’t clothing. It is people.”

“Fashion is people,” Allison said with a smile.

“Indeed. And people matter; thus, fashion matters as
well. It is more important than many ever realize.”

Allison stared at her as if she was some sort of
revelation. Elena’s passion for her work was awe inspiring and
beautiful to witness.

“What?” Elena blurted.

“Nothing,” Allison said. “You’re just…you’re pretty
amazing, you know?”

Elena sucked in a soft breath. “Thank you,” she
whispered.

They stared at one another, the air of Elena’s office
thickening around them and growing hot. Several moments passed in
heated silence before Elena pushed her mostly empty food cartons
away and rose to her feet. “Now,” she said, “what do you say we
have a little photo-shoot of our own?”

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Allison asked, glancing
nervously around the studio. It was now empty but for herself and
Elena, the latter having dismissed all her lingering subjects. “I
mean, I’m not very photogenic.”

Elena scoffed. “That is a blatant lie.”

“True,” Allison laughed, joking to enforce a false
sense of bravado. “I
am
pretty cute.” She stood in the
middle of the solid-white set, wearing light-wash skinny jeans and
a black tank top Elena had provided from the closet. Her feet were
as bare as her soul felt in that moment, and she chewed on her
bottom lip as she waited for direction from the other woman.

Elena smiled as she stepped over to her, a camera
strung around her neck. “Allison,” she cooed, running her hands
down Allison’s bare arms, “I would love to photograph you. I’m not
much of a photographer, but I know a few things. If you are
uncomfortable, though, we certainly do not have to do this. I
thought it would be fun.”

“No, it’s cool,” Allison assured, sucking in a
steadying breath. “I mean, no harm, right? Plus, you must be pretty
attracted to me if you wanna take my picture, right?”

Elena leaned in to press a feather-light kiss to
Allison’s lips. “Right.”

“Well then, I’m fine with it,” Allison told her,
shrugging. “But don’t expect me to like be good at posing or
anything. I think we both know how awkward I am.”

Elena walked slowly backward and away from her. “You
aren’t awkward, dear,” she said as she lifted the camera to her
face. “
You
are
stunning
.”

Before Allison even realized what was happening,
Elena began to snap photo after photo. Allison just sort of stood
there awkwardly at first, unsure of what to do. She refused to even
look at the camera, keeping her head down or simply looking away
from Elena. Her hands were stuffed down in her pockets, and one of
her knees was bent as she kept her weight steadied mostly on one
foot.

“Take your hands out of your pockets, dear. Look
toward me.” Elena’s voice called from behind the camera.

Allison did as she was told, still feeling incredibly
awkward. She expected Elena to then give her more motion or posing
direction, but the woman surprised her.

“Think of your most embarrassing moment.”

“Huh?” Allison asked.

Elena laughed from behind the camera. “I want to
shoot your expressions as certain emotions or experiences touch
your features.” She crouched a bit and pulled the camera back to
her face. “Now, think of your most embarrassing moment.”

Allison had way too many embarrassing moments to
think of only one, but as soon as the collective memories began to
flood her mind, she heard Elena chuckle again and she assumed that
her face was likely bright red.

The more they shot, the more comfortable Allison
became, even playfully dramatizing a few of her reactions to
Elena’s directions. Elena played along with her.