Page 22 of Stay Here Tonight
Although it could be nice…
Nope! Lydia had to remain firm. She was not dating Maxine. She was going to go out there right now and tell those paps what was what before jetting off to her late morning shift at work.
Instead, Mrs. Manning opened the door to whistle at the black car pulling up to the apartment building’s curb. “Don’t get many nice cars like that around here, huh?”
No, not many of the neighborhood’s working class tenants drove sleek, black BMWs. Nor did they have $500 haircuts, bespoke suits crafted by some of the few tailors in the world willing to work with a female body, and diamond jewelry reflecting the warm winter sunlight. It was a cool seventy degrees at ten in the morning, and Maxine Woodward was dressed in all black. Black jacket. Black trousers. Black silk shirt that was unbuttoned on the top.
Uh oh. Lydia was in trouble.In more ways than one!
Maxine was accompanied by her PR manager and a large man in a suit and sunglasses. The manager stopped in front of the paparazzi to give a statement while the stoic man in the suit escorted Maxine up to the apartment building. Mrs. Manning was there to meet them in her white fuzzy bathrobe and a beanie on her head.
“Can I help you?” the landlord asked the wealthy caller.
“Only if you can tell me where Lydia Kellerman is.”
“Sorry, can’t give out that info about my tenants.”
Lydia stepped out from the shadowy corner and confronted Maxine in the doorway.Whoa! Perfume!Was that sandalwood? Quite the masculine choice to come out of nowhere.
“I’m right here. Where do you want to do this?”
Obviously, this was about what was printed in that paper. Maxine either wanted to know if Lydia leaked a false story like that, or what they both could do to curtail the mayhem. Good enough for Lydia. She had no idea how to deal with paps. She saw them here and there whenever she went out, especially if celebs were known to frequent the touristy areas, but actually interacting… actually being theinterestof them… that was something else.
“Your apartment, preferably.” Maxine gestured to the man standing behind her. “This is my bodyguard. He won’t be in our way, but he will make sure the paps stay out of our way.”
Lydia nodded… and swallowed. “Good to know.”
“You remember Angela. My PR manager.” That woman approached now with an extra rush in her step. “She’ll help us navigate these troublesome waters. I take it you saw the silly news this morning?”
Lydia continued to nod long past the socially acceptable amount of time. “Oh! Yes!” She jerked back once she realized her eyes had begun to linger on someone’s pronounced chest.Get a hold of yourself! The woman is here for serious shit!Lydia backed away from the entrance and pointed up the nearest staircase. “I live on the second floor with a great view of the neighboring building. To be on the safe side, I’ll close the blinds.”
“Thank you. Lead the way, please.”
The stairs creaked beneath Lydia’s feet as she ascended the stairs. A sound she heard every time she went up and down, but with her entourage of designer-clad women who knew what they were about – and how much they were worth – Lydia became hyper-aware of everything that marked her as “the other.”
Not that it should matter at all. Not like she attempted tocourtMs. Woodward.How the hell do you “court” a woman like that anyway?Maxine was in her thirties, and one of the toughest women both in and out of the bedroom. She was the one doing the courting, and she would never court in a place like Shady Grove Apartment Homes.
Four people could barely fit into Lydia’s tiny apartment. Until then, the only other person to come and go with any regularity was Joanie. Okay, sometimes Brenda Cruz found her way in there and immediately bemoaned her daughter’s fate, but mothers with big personalities aside, Lydia had never tried to shove a small party of people into her home.
They remained standing until she cleared a few things off her loveseat and the two-seat kitchen table. Nobody sat down. Except Lydia. She sat down at her table and looked up into Maxine’s unimpressed face as if they were both in trouble.
“I didn’t do anything,” Lydia said. “I have no idea how a headline like that got out.”
“We know you’re not responsible.” The PR manger – Angela was her name, right? – held a hand up to stop Lydia’s panicked chatter. “There was a miscommunication with the paper. They’re not a tabloid. Anyway, we’re here to apologize to you for any inconvenience this has caused, Ms. Kellerman. Apologize and offer any compensation to make things right.”
“Compen… sation?” Lydia glanced between Angela and Maxine, who remained silent since entering her most recent lover’s home. “You mean financially?”
“If that’s what you require. We understand that this may make it difficult for you to go to work. We’re also offering compensation to your landlord for any issues this recent social media storm may have caused.”
“Social media storm?” Lydia only knew about the article and professional, somewhat sterile photo. “What storm?”
Maxine and Angela exchanged glances. Maxine slowly nodded, prompting Angela to hold out her tablet. A Twitter feed constantly updated with new posts and hashtags like#lesbiangoalsand#wishitwereme.Lydia looked away as soon as a link to her (locked down already, thank God) Facebook profile was posted for the public’s perusal.
“You get used to it,” Maxine said drolly. “Anyway, I want to personally apologize for this. If I had never asked you to take that picture with me, this would have never happened.”
“I see.” Lydia stared at her gray wall, hoping some desperately needed answers would appear in the old paint. “I’m not angry. Just really, really confused. People think we’re dating? Why is that such big news?”
Maxine cleared her throat while Angela sighed in disbelief. Even the bodyguard withheld a chuckle. “Don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, Lydia,” Maxine began, “but I’m rather famous for being a staunch bachelorette who hasn’t been in a ‘real’ relationship since my marriage fell apart. Nobody knows who you are, unlike my ex-wife who is a well-known supermodel. Oh, and we’re gay. That’s always going to add about ten extra layers of pure, unadulterated scandal.”
