Lisa Henry - Naked Ambition

Taylor

T aylor Ritchie was up to his elbows in swathes of calico, pins, and tacking thread when Eddie raced into the designers room of House of Romano, his platform shoes clattering across the polished cement floor. He sounded like a herd of wildebeest instead of one slightly awkward, glittery gazelle, wearing last seasons colors. Light from the chrome ceiling fixtures bounced off his sequined jacket like the scattershot effect of some laser space battle.

Have you heard? Eddie demanded.

Taylor plucked a pin out from the seam of his lips and jabbed it into the dummy in front of him. He had come in early so he could work alone, just the way he liked it, and he didnt enjoy being disturbed. He picked up his scissors, twirling them expertly in his long fingers as he regarded the bolt of fabric that lay partially unrolled on his table. Heard what?

Eddie reached for the remote control on the long table next to the one Taylor was working at, and pointed it toward the screen fixed to the back wall. The TV flickered and a couple of talking heads arguing about politics appeared. It took Taylor a second to notice the words scrolling by in the banner underneath themBreaking News: Fashion designer Luca Romano dead.

Holy shit, Taylor said, his scissors clattering to the floor. He glimpsed a sliver of his reflection in them: a dark green eye, wide with shock, framed by a curtain of ink-black hair.

Luca was dead?

What happened? he asked Eddie. What the hell happened?

Eddie shook his head, wide-eyed, his spiked platinum hair a messy halo in the lights.

Taylor had heard, vaguely through the office grapevine, that Luca was away in Italy. Hed snorted at thatfucking his little toy boy in some Lake Como villa or whatever. But it was only three months until the unveiling of Lucas latest Spring Collection, and they were supposed to have at least twenty-five discrete pieces by then because Luca was nothing if not an overachiever. Jesus, would House of Romano even survive without him? Luca was a force of nature, a hurricane, and he was only in his late forties, according to his bioand in his late fifties, according to anyone whod actually done the math. Taylor couldnt imagine the world without him, let alone the fashion world. How could he be dead?

His mind reeled as he thought of the first time hed met Luca. It was almost six years ago now. Taylor had been in the meeting room upstairs, nervously opening his portfolio in front of Luca Romano. The Luca Romano. Hed been so nervous that hed thought he would throw up, and hed been terrified of the reputation Luca had as a brutal perfectionist. Except Luca had been warm, charming, and genuinely interested in Taylors designs. Hed offered him a paid internship on the spot, and six years later, under Lucas guiding hand, Taylor was a design assistant with ambitions of creating his own line for House of Romano.

And if hed had other ambitions in regards to Luca, after spending enough time with him that hed built a thousand different fantasies around the mans sheer magnetism, well, nobody had to know that. Theyd spent a single night together once, and Taylor had felt himself tumbling head over heels in love, but Luca had brushed him off in the morning with a kiss and a smile. It had all seemed so grown-up and casually cosmopolitan that Taylor had been ashamed of his naivety. Of course, Luca had a string of young, eager lovers lining up to fall into his bed every night. Taylor was lucky to have been chosen as one of them, however briefly.

He bent down and picked up his scissors, the metal cold in his hands.

What do you think will happen now? Eddie asked. He wafted closer to Taylor in a cloud of Creed Aventus that made Taylors nose twitch. I cant lose this job, Taylor! I refuse to go back to folding blouses in the womens apparel section of Saks!

Yeah, and Taylor refused to go back to fucking Ohio.

Listen, he said in a gentle tone, as much to calm Eddies rising panic as his own, nobody is going to lose their job. Like there must be. He searched for the right words and failed to find them. A line of succession or something, right?

It didnt seem too absurd to think of Luca Romano as a king or an emperor, not when Taylor had once thought of him as a god.

Taylor set his scissors down and gripped the edge of the table.

I guess so, Eddie said, chewing his bottom lip anxiously.

Of course there will be someone, Taylor said, mostly to get Eddie to shut up. Eddie was an intern, a coffee boy, but for some reason he thought that he and Taylor were friends. He was a fucking airhead, and Taylor might have even hated him, if he could have been bothered to expend that much emotional energy on someone as inconsequential as Eddie. Go and get me a coffee, would you?

Eddies jaw dropped, his plump, glossy lips falling apart in surprise before he pursed them again. Oh, okay. Youre one of these work through your feelings kind of guys, I guess.

No, Taylor thought, he was one of those fuck off and leave me alone, Eddie kind of guys, but he didnt say so because he didnt want his coffee served with spit.

Its justTaylor shrugged, and turned his mouth downthis is a lot to process, you know?

Eddies expression softened into one of sympathy and understanding. He patted Taylor on the shoulder. Ill get you your coffee, babe.

Babe? Taylor forced himself not to curl his lip at that. Forced himself to nod and appear vulnerable as Eddie clattered away again.

He looked up at the screen, and at the ribbon rolling under the talking headsLuca Romano dead.