Love is the New Black Read online

  ‘Great,’ Piper knew how much Gaynor loved that stuff.

  ‘Over the main course,’ Gaynor continued, ‘we discussed movies. Out of ten, we had five favourites in common.’

  ‘Awesome,’ Piper said. She studied Gaynor’s face. It looked like Gaynor was back in that conversation, enjoying it.

  ‘Yes, darling, it was very nice,’ Gaynor nodded. ‘We were both having a lovely time. We shared a bottle of red wine and Andrew really loosened up. He told me a little about his grown-up children. He asked me about my career. He even admitted he’d seen me in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf and had been enamoured with my performance.’

  ‘Enamoured? Cool!’

  Gaynor shrugged. ‘Anyway, finally, we ordered dessert.’

  ‘And the conversation turned to …’ Piper prompted.

  ‘How much we love our country,’ Gaynor said. Piper could practically see a shadow pass over Gaynor’s face. ‘We both extolled the virtues of living in Australia.’ Gaynor paused. Piper knew the but was coming and tried to prepare herself.

  ‘Then he leant forward.’ Gaynor leant forward to demonstrate, her forehead almost touching Piper’s. ‘He told me how comfortable he felt with me. And that’s why he could confide how much he wished that all the Asians and Muslims and whoever else turned up would get out of our great land.’

  Piper pulled her head back, disgusted. ‘Seriously?’

  Gaynor threw her hands up in the air, like she’d just delivered the punchline to a joke. She was a great actress, yes, but Piper saw something she suspected Gaynor didn’t want her to see. A small twist to her mouth. Eyes that glistened just a little too much.

  ‘Oh, Gaynes, poor you. Spending the night with a racist weirdo,’ Piper consoled. ‘But you’ll get back on the horse. You always do.’

  Gaynor shook her head. ‘No, my darling. I’m done with men.’ The delivery was matter-of-fact. It hurt Piper to hear her godmother talk like that. It was so unlike her. She always thought the best of people, always kept positive. ‘I am going on one more date today for lunch, because I’ve already committed to it and I won’t go back on my word. But there will be no more tales of woe, Piper. And after this, I won’t date anymore. Isaac was my one true love. I was lucky to have him. Now, I have his memory.’

  Gaynor smiled, but she looked less vibrant than usual. ‘I hand the baton to you,’ she said. ‘Is Dylan your true love? Is he the one who makes your heart sing? You know, even at your age, you shouldn’t waste time on Mr Good Enough.’

  A surge of annoyance passed through Piper’s body as Gaynor walked out of the room without even waiting for an answer. Gaynor was channelling Piper’s mum again. Dylan wasn’t Mr Good Enough. He was Mr Right. So what if she’d had a few fleeting thoughts about someone else? Thoughts were just thoughts, after all. Stupid things came into people’s minds all the time and meant nothing. Dreams, too, were nothing to do with real life. Piper had dreamt about being a mermaid, but she had never woken up with a tail.

  It was actions that counted. Only actions.

  And Piper was faithful to Dylan. Just like he was to her.

  Piper snuggled up on the couch after Gaynor had left for her final disaster date. She felt she deserved a pyjama afternoon after such a full-on week. But she felt a trace of loneliness. It was lovely to have a day all to yourself when you had other options, but right now she didn’t. She could have gone shopping, or to a movie, but it would have been by herself.

  In a way, hanging out with Kara and Georgie had been hard because it reminded her of what she was missing. She would go to The Texan in a fortnight but until then she probably wouldn’t even see either of them.

  If she were in Mission Beach right now she would probably be with Ally and Sarah – or she’d be at Dylan’s house. They probably would have had a late breakfast of bacon and eggs and then gone back to bed. Piper’s face flushed as she thought of the things they’d done in Dylan’s creaky bed.

  At first, their sex had been awkward. Piper knew from girl-friends that was to be expected, though, since he was her first lover and they were just getting to know each other’s bodies. And there was a feeling of closeness afterwards that Piper adored.

  Anyway, they were definitely getting better at it. Piper was sure, too, that she was getting closer to climaxing. The last time, she’d felt like she was on the precipice of something amazing. Her breathing had become ragged and her body had found a rhythm with his. If Dylan could have held off just a little longer, she was sure she’d have got there. Piper smiled to herself, remembering his words.

  Sorry, babe. You just … man … you just send me off …

  She’d loved it when Dylan said that. It made her feel powerful. She’d been so close to coming that time and there would be plenty of opportunities to make it happen again.

  Piper’s mind strayed back to her dream about Mason. The thing that happened in her sleep – it couldn’t have been a real orgasm. Could it? It had felt amazing, but she just didn’t realise her body could just, well, do that in her sleep.

  Her body was clearly hanging out for sex. And Mason was in my head because of the time we spent in the boardroom that day, that’s all, Piper assured herself.

  She wished Dylan were there right now. She wanted to nestle in to him, and to send him off. She knew, she just knew, things would be perfect when they finally did see each other again. He had to visit her. Soon. She switched the TV on for company, but put it on mute. Then she phoned Dylan.

  ‘Babe. Hang on, I’m on site. I’ll take you into the office.’

  Piper could hear drilling in the background. If Dylan was working on a Saturday, that meant double time. Hopefully he’d have the money to visit sooner rather than later.

  ‘Okay, Piper, I’m in the office now,’ Dylan said, the background noise dying down. ‘How’re things down there?’

  Piper looked out the window. The sky was grey. ‘Cold and overcast,’ she said, ‘and that’s just the weather.’

  Dylan chuckled. ‘If I was there I’d warm you up.’

  Piper smiled. ‘I wish you were here to do that,’ she said. ‘Have you booked a flight yet?’

  ‘Nah. Checked it out yesterday to come down next weekend, but it’s pretty pricey. Might try again tomorrow, see if it’s any cheaper. Otherwise, maybe I’ll look at two weeks down the track. You got anything on tonight?’ Dylan laughed, like he found his last sentence amusing. ‘I mean, anything planned.’

  ‘Not much,’ Piper admitted. ‘I’m just hanging out at Gaynor’s. What about you? Do you have anything on?’

  ‘Ah … just a bonfire down the beach with a few of the crew,’ Dylan answered.

  Piper stiffened. A ‘few crew’ at a bonfire on Mission Beach often turned into a lot of crew. Plenty of backpackers passed through there. Some of them very attractive. Some of them gorgeous, in fact.

  ‘Piper, you there?’ Dylan asked. ‘You okay?’

  She breathed in. What could she say? Of course Dylan had to go out to parties without her. She couldn’t expect him to put his life on hold, just because she wasn’t there. It wasn’t like she didn’t trust him.

  ‘Sorry, Dylan. It just feels weird. You going out with everyone, and me being here by myself.’

  ‘Aw, babe. If you want, I’ll send you some photos from the bonfire. So you feel part of things.’

  ‘Cool,’ Piper sighed. The rest of her weekend now felt like it was going to be long and boring rather than snuggly and relaxing.

  She looked at the TV screen. It was a news report showing a throng of people marching through the city, protesting for gay marriage rights. A funny sign caught her eye: Attention Heterosexuals: We demand the right to be miserable too.

  ‘I did get invited to a party at some swank nightclub with a bunch of models on Saturday the week after next. Free drinks. But if you come down I’ll ditch that. Or I’m pretty sure I could get you a ticket.’

  ‘Models, eh?’ Dylan said. There was a pause.

  On screen, two gu
ys walked hand in hand.

  ‘Ah, seriously, don’t cancel,’ Dylan said. ‘It’s good you’re making new friends. If I can get a flight, I’m fine to come along. Want me to check? I can check now.’

  Piper could hear him breathing as he balanced the phone on his shoulder while using the keyboard.

  ‘Hey, thanks,’ she heard him say. There was a bit more talking. It was definitely a girl’s voice. Piper couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, but she felt a pang. There must have been a new girl at Dylan’s work – all the staff she knew there were male. Piper whipped the thought right out of her head. She was determined not to ask Dylan about it.

  ‘You there?’ said Dylan, speaking into the phone again, ‘I actually think I can get a cheap flight that weekend. Hang on.’

  Piper watched a couple on TV, marching with their arms around each other’s waists. The taller woman wore a mask with Ellen DeGeneres’s face, and the other, Portia de Rossi. The one with the Portia mask had long, wavy blonde hair like the real deal.

  Piper wondered vaguely why they were wearing masks. She was completely fine with the idea of gay marriage, and couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t be. If these women were gay and proud, wouldn’t it be more effective to show their faces?

  Then again, Ellen and Portia were sort of figureheads for gay marriage, and the camera was definitely zooming in on them, so maybe the masks were effective in a way?

  ‘Okay,’ Dylan said finally. ‘So there’s a pretty good deal here. What if I fly down on the Friday night and come back Sunday?’

  ‘That would make me very happy,’ she said. ‘You sure you don’t want me to cancel the club thing?’

  ‘Yeah, no worries. I’ll tag along with you. I’d be your plus one anytime, baby. I’ll email you the details. Gotta go.’

  ‘Thanks Dyl,’ Piper said. ‘Love you.’

  ‘Love you more.’

  Piper hung up the phone, feeling elated. She felt better about just chilling out now. Like the promise of his visit made it fine to spend this weekend being lazy.

  The TV news had moved on, but something made Piper press the rewind button. She went back to the first appearance of Ellen and Portia, trying to put her finger on what had struck her about them. The shot showed the full length of their bodies.

  She pressed pause.

  ‘Ellen’ was wearing a pretty regular outfit. A cute top. Jeans. Piper’s eyes scanned downwards to a pair of emerald-green snakeskin boots, with a yellow trim around the top and a cowboy heel.

  Kara Kingston’s boots.

  Piper sneaked a rare private moment at her desk on Wednesday morning to google the tabloid picture again. Even days after she’d seen the TV footage and convinced herself it was Kara Kingston in the gay pride march, she still felt obsessed with the whole thing. There was something intensely satisfying about getting the puzzle pieces in place.

  Seen last week leaving the Cristobel Club at 2 a.m., Kara broke away from mag mogul Mason Wakefield. Sources say Kara was comforted by a good friend, DJ Laurie Anderson. Neither Kingston nor Wakefield was available today for comment, but Kingston’s agent, Anita Barnes, insists it was just a lovers’ tiff.

  Piper looked closely at the image. The Laurie Anderson in the picture had blonde, wavy hair. The same hair as the girl who’d been protesting disguised as Portia de Rossi to Kara’s Ellen. It had to be her. Piper was sure of it.

  It all made sense now. The phone call Kara had taken that Friday night was from Laurie, not Mason. Laurie was the one Kara was cooing at. Laurie was the one who was working late, the one Kara missed. It was Laurie she’d been begging to come over. And it was Laurie who refused to visit that night after arguing with Kara about Anita owning her. That stupid tabloid was right about something. It was a lovers’ tiff. They’d just screwed up which two people in the picture were the lovers!

  God, before Kara spilled her guts, she had been going to tell. That was the toxic lie that was festering inside her.

  Piper stared into space, ignoring the constant din of phones and chatter that ran through the hallways at Aspire, thinking the same thing she’d been thinking for a few days now: What if Mason Wakefield is single?

  The possibility that Kara was not Mason Wakefield’s girlfriend made Piper’s stomach flip over weirdly. Kind of like she was on a roller coaster and excited, but about to puke at the same time.

  This is ridiculous! thought Piper. I shouldn’t be feeling like this.

  But she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why would Kara even bother covering up her sexuality? Piper tried to think back to what Kara had said when she was drunk – something about not being able to be herself in the industry? Even in this day and age, Piper supposed there was still some discrimination against gay people that may have forced Kara to stay in the closet. The fact that gay marriage still wasn’t legal in Australia was a pretty good case in point.

  But why would Mason cover as Kara’s boyfriend? Would he do that to protect her from the media? Wasn’t his magazine part of the media machine?

  Piper shook her head. She may have put the puzzle pieces of Kara’s story together, but she’d never understand Mason Wakefield.

  Piper made herself click out of the screen and tried to focus on her work, ignoring the chattering of Lucy and Siobhan coming from the fashion cupboard. Today, Vivian had left her a list of tasks to do, which was a relief. All she had to do now was to pick up a Prada gown from the dry cleaner’s and to go to Prize Pooch to collect a doggie tuxedo Rose had ordered.

  But instead of getting going, Piper just stared at the photo of Dylan that she’d pinned to the board next to her desk. It was one she’d taken of him after a surf, when he’d peeled off the top half of his wetsuit. He was smiling at the camera, the sunlight glinting off his blonde hair and tanned shoulders.

  ‘Hey, what are you wearing to the launch tomorrow night?’ asked Lucy, cutting into Piper’s thoughts as Siobhan left the office.

  ‘Huh?’ said Piper vaguely, looking up.

  ‘You’re so out of it this week,’ said Lucy. ‘Is it because you’re missing your boyfriend?’

  Piper frowned. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘The email went out on Monday. There’s a party tomorrow night, so Mason can launch the new company direction. If you don’t go, he’ll probably behead you.’ Lucy picked up a pair of scissors from her desk and slid them across her throat for emphasis.

  Piper checked her emails and saw the message from reception in her inbox. Subject: Media Launch. How had she missed that?

  She needed to avoid Mason. Even if he was single, and even if she couldn’t stop thinking about him, he was still her boss. And she had Dylan. If she had to speak to Mason tomorrow night, she’d better keep it brief.

  The chairs and large table had been cleared away in the board-room, making it big enough for a stand-up party. Minimalist floral arrangements dotted the room on pedestals, and the standing tables throughout the room were adorned with lilies and candles. The huge screen at the end of the room had moving images of models on the runway, alternating with photos and covers from Aspire flashing across it. Music pumped through the space, which was already abuzz with staff, models and members of the press clustered around, chatting excitedly.

  Waiters that looked like male models, dressed in tight black chinos and white shirts with all the buttons done up, brought food and drinks around on trays. Piper took an espresso martini from one of them and took a sip. The charge from the combination of caffeine and alcohol was almost immediate, and she was glad. Plus she needed something to do with her hands.

  Piper scanned the room for Kara, thinking she might attend her ‘boyfriend’s’ big launch, but couldn’t see her anywhere, so she busied herself by looking out the windows. She tried not to think about the last time she’d been in this room with Mason.

  Boats glided down the Yarra. Piper settled her eyes on a kayak cutting through the water at dusk. The person paddling looked like he was struggling to get anywhere – Piper could tota
lly relate. She felt like she was paddling awkwardly in the boardroom, surrounded by people she hardly knew or hadn’t even met. Even though she was dressed in one of Kara’s creations, she was still one of the lowest on the Aspire ladder.

  She wasn’t quite as low as Bronwyn, though. Piper winced to see her, dressed in black and white, handing out canapés. She doubted that Bronwyn was getting any real experience from her ‘work experience’ – she was more like Vivian’s slave. Yet, when she approached Piper, she had a huge smile on her face.

  Piper raised her eyebrows. ‘You look as though you’re enjoying this,’ she said, taking a mini quiche.

  ‘I hate it,’ Bronwyn replied, still grinning. ‘But Vivian has finally promised she’s going to look at my designs! So I don’t care if she never learns my name or if she makes me clean every toilet in the building. I’m so excited.’

  Piper bit her lip. She wasn’t so sure whether Bronwyn should be so excited about showing Vivian anything.

  A tinkling of glasses alerted the guests to draw their attention to the opposite end of the room, where Mason was now standing. There was a hush as everyone turned to face him.

  ‘Thank you, everyone, for coming along tonight. As I’m sure you all know, the past few months have been difficult for Aspire, but we’ve made some significant changes to the business that we’re confident will improve our profitability, and I thank all of you for your patience while we’ve been going through the process. Change is always challenging, but it also presents exciting opportunities and, tonight, we’re really celebrating a new direction for the magazine.’

  Mason Wakefield commanded the room, and he did it perfectly – with gorgeous cheekbones and just the right amount of stubble. His voice was low and deep. His eyes shone as he continued.

  ‘We want our magazine to reach a new readership. One of our newest members of staff, Piper Bancroft, recently pointed something out to me: all the effort we put into the fashion in this magazine is not reflected by our editorial content.’ Piper felt her stomach leap at the mention of her name. He’s talking about me. She felt her face flush bright red as Mason continued.