Page 23 of Stay Here Tonight
Lydia didn’t say anything. What the fuck was she supposed to say?Guess that’s all true.If Lydia wasn’t involved in this and simply minding her own business when the news broke… it certainly would be a topic of discussion in the lesbian blogosphere. Ice Queen Maxine Woodward declared dating some nobody? Some lucky-ass nobody bitch? Lydia could hear the conversations and read the texts now.“Who does she think she is, landing one of the only diamond dykes left in America?” “First Eva Warren, now Maxine Woodward? Who’s left for #therestofus?” “At least she’s cute. I’d bang her. Both of them.”
“That’s why there’s something else we need to talk to you about.” Maxine checked herself. “Something elseIneed to talk to you about. Could you two excuse us, please?”
Angela reluctantly stepped out into the hallway. The bodyguard, however, remained in position with a slight shake of the head.
“Please. If there are any paps in this apartment, he’s taking the longest shit of his life.”
That got the bodyguard moving, but with the caveat he would berightoutside the door. Once she was alone with Lydia, Maxine turned around again.
“Here’s what’s happened.” Her no-nonsense attitude was both terrifying andholy hell hotto someone who hadn’t already slept with her. To Lydia?I’m gonna pass out.“People think we’re dating, regardless of what’s really going on. There are two ways we can go about this. I can offer you compensation and issue a tersely-worded statement via Angela and force the paper to print a retraction. Even then, people will think we’re still dating, because the idea has been planted into their damn thick skulls.”
Lydia’s hands wrung together atop her table. “What’s the other option?”
Maxine didn’t skip a beat. “We actually go out and use this to our advantage.”
“What?”
“Angela made a good point to me on the car ride over here. You saw what the tabloids are saying. It might be worth having a real girlfriend who can help me soften that libelous image she’s created.”
“What do I get out of it?” Lydia didn’t believe for one second that they would be a real couple. No. Impossible. Maxine wasn’t into her like that. A hookup. A one-night stand.You gonna pay me or something? Is it like that?
“That’s what I asked Angela, because I knew you wouldn’t be keen on being my girlfriend for the press. She said that the exposure could help you in your own career.” Before Lydia could interject with questions, Maxine continued, “We briefly looked into your public information. We noticed that you have a degree in community outreach and social services. Think of what you could accomplish once the public is familiar with your face and name.”
“You looked into my background?”
“Of course. If you’re going to be my girlfriend, it’s imperative that we do a background check on you. Especially if this is mostly for PR.”
Lydia remained speechless.
“There’s another fundraiser this weekend in LA. I’m going. I want you to go with me. It’s black-tie, but I’ll make sure you’re properly outfitted at no charge to yourself.”
“I…!”
Maxine handed her a simple black business card with a golden phone number written on top. “My number. I don’t expect you to decide right now. Think it over, but don’t take too long. I need an answer by tonight. If you want to go with me, we only have two days to make it happen.”
“What about, uh,” Lydia couldn’t do it. Couldn’t make eye contact with the woman to save her life. “What about what happened last weekend?”
“Ah…” Maxine grinned. “We’ll see what happens.”
Lydia got up and opened the kitchen window. She needed some fresh air before she passed out from Maxine’s smug sexuality.
Chapter 9
Lydia emerged from Maxine’s salon wearing a scratchy dress and enough makeup to keep her own mother – let alone the press – from recognizing her.
When I say salon, I mean it’s an old-fashioned, manor salon.One looking over the pool and the Californian foliage surrounding it. Lydia discovered that it could be transformed into a hair and dress salon with a snap of Maxine’s fingers. Ms. Woodward’s personal stylist pulled double-duty when he arrived at eight that morning with a trunk full of dresses from up-and-coming designers willing to let Lydia model their wares at a large social function.
He settled on a navy blue tea dress. Delicate lace settled upon Lydia’s collarbone, shoulders, and the tops of her arms. A swishy skirt topped off above the knees thanks to a seamstress who created an impeccable hem while the makeup artist worked her magic. Light blue eyeshadow, come-hither eyelashes, a faint red lip, and enough rouge to make her look like somebody’s baby doll.
Maxine’s baby doll.
She walked in half an hour before they were due in the back of a limo. Her eyes lingered on Lydia, who played with her flirtatious skirt before noticing Maxine in the doorway. When their eyes met, it was with a candid acknowledgment that this was for mutual benefactions.
“You’re radiant,” Maxine said with little enthusiasm. “Especially with your hair up. Do you often wear it like that?”
Lydia touched the elaborate twist on her head. “Not at all. I never have the patience to play with it.” She wasn’t sure how it would stay up, either, but the hair stylist assured her that it was in place until she yanked out every single pin.
Maxine stepped forward and offered her date a black felt box. “Sorry that this isn’t special. I had no idea what palette they would go with, so I opted for something catch-all.”
