“Why did you and Randy pull that little stunt?” James asked, and Daniel knew he had a right to the truth. The urge was to fluff it off with a little flouncing and maybe a dose of camp, but this wasn’t the time for that.
“Because Randy wanted you to see me how your family would see me. I’m not going to dress the way you saw me onstage. Lala is probably way over the top for a family wedding in Missoula.” Daniel projected confidence as he watched James in the mirror. He had always subscribed to a “fake it until you make it” philosophy. And quite frankly, he could hardly believe he was actually considering this entire situation anyway. “Let’s make a deal. You consider what you want to do, and I’ll do the same. We can meet tomorrow for breakfast…what you call lunch…and if either of us wants to back out, no harm no foul. Okay?” He closed his eyes and worked to remove the layers of makeup and glitter.
When he opened them again, James was watching him, seemingly fascinated. “What is all that stuff for? Do you really use it all?” He pointed to the top of the counter, which was covered with his immaculately organized bases, contours, shadows, lipsticks, and powders.
He thought of being offended, but pulled it back. If James was curious, there was no harm in answering. “Not all at once, but yes. Each look requires different makeup.” He continued removing the base and then used a baby wipe to cleanse his face. At home he would shower and remove anything that remained, but for now, he turned to show James the man beneath the drag. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He pushed back from the mirror.
“Give me your number, and we can figure where to meet for lunch.”
Daniel was tempted to write his number on the mirror in lipstick, but he jotted it down on a Post-it and handed it to James. Then he saw James to the dressing room door and kissed his cheek. Hell, he was being forward, but he wanted to get close enough for one more dose of intoxication.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” James said, his voice a little deeper and his intense blue eyes with their green flecks a little darker.
* * *
Daniel pulled into the restaurant parking lot a few minutes before one, just on time. He sauntered toward the door in perfectly pressed tan pants and a persimmon silk shirt that shimmered in the sunlight. He might not be here as Lala, but there was no way that some of her showiness didn’t make its way into the other aspects of his life.
James sat just inside the door, standing as he approached. “Thank you for coming.” There was none of the lightness or amusement that there had been the evening before. “I know it’s quite a drive out from the city.”
He shrugged. “My grandmother and I live in Rosemont, so it was no trouble.” They waited for the hostess and then were seated at their table. Daniel placed his napkin on his lap and leaned forward slightly. “Why don’t we get down to business. You need a date for your sister’s wedding to keep your mother off your back, and I need to work while the theater is undergoing renovations. This can be a simple business relationship and nothing more.” Daniel could definitely keep from acting on any sort of attraction toward James, no matter how many cop uniform stripping fantasies he’d had last night. Which was a little shocking, given the fact that the last time Daniel, a cop, and stripping were concerned, it hadn’t been a pleasant experience.
“Will your grandmother be okay without you for a little while?” James asked, the concern in his voice pleasantly surprising Daniel.
“One of the neighbors will be able to spend time with her while I’m gone for a few days. They get along well so Gran won’t get too peeved at me.”
“Good. And if you want to see a hissy fit, you should have been around my mother when she wasn’t happy. Bras involved or not.” He leaned a little closer over the table, eyebrows cocked wickedly.
“Oh really.” Daniel could play this game. “After my mother found me in her clothes, she asked me if I was gay. Duh. I told her I wanted to do drag. She had a fit and spent the next three days in mourning because her son was going to become a girl. At least I had my grandmother.”
James snorted with derision. “Please, that’s nothing. When my mother figured out why I was spending so much time in the bathroom…” He paused for dramatic effect. “She took me aside and told me that good boys didn’t do that type of thing, and that if I kept it up, I would run out of juice and would never have children.” His eyes did this little laughing dance.