Reality Lesbian 2

By Q. Kelly

Crystal Maitland became a fan favorite during season two of gay reality dating show "Will You Marry Me?" Her popularity soared even more after she was dumped in the season’s final episode. While she was not ultimately chosen as the love of Dr. Zara Winters’s life, Crystal landed a gig as the season four lead. Thousands of giddy lesbians applied for the twenty spots to win Crystal’s heart.

However, as filming for Crystal’s season begins, she is already developing feelings for the show’s executive producer, Virginia “Gene” Robertson. When Crystal confesses those feelings, Gene urges her to forget them and move on. They cannot have a relationship. Never mind that Gene feels just as strongly for Crystal after spending countless hours poring through footage that reveals a complicated, layered woman. A mysterious, vulnerable woman.

Crystal tries to give a fair shot to each contestant, including the hugely pregnant Rowena Williams, the sexy butch Van Elliott and the gregarious Dolly Gaskins. However, when higher-ups at cable channel Rainbow World get wind of murmurings that something is going on with Crystal and Gene, life can only get worse.

What’s a lesbian in love to do when the woman she wants urges her to marry someone else? Find out on the shocking season four finale of "Will You Marry Me"?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Q. Kelly
• Release date: Apr 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310053689

Q. Kelly

I live in Washington state, where I am a writer and an editor. I also have a master's degree in deaf education. In my free time, I hike and savor frappuccinos.Fact One: I like corny jokes. If you have any good ones, send them my way!Fact Two: My favorite color is purple, but my writing is gray. Life is not black and white. I often write about issues and characters where there is no "right" answer.Fact Three: I'm weird. I like being weird.Email me at [e-mail]. I'd love to hear from you.Check out my blogs at qkelly.wordpress.com and qkelly.blogspot.com.

Book preview

REALITY LESBIAN 2

Q. Kelly

Copyright 2015 © Q. Kelly

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Blurb for Reality Lesbian 2

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Credits

Other Works by Q. Kelly

Blurb for Reality Lesbian 2

Crystal Maitland became a fan favorite during season two of gay reality dating show Will You Marry Me? Her popularity soared even more after she was dumped in the season’s final episode. While she was not ultimately chosen as the love of Dr. Zara Winters’s life, Crystal landed a gig as the season four lead. Thousands of giddy lesbians applied for the twenty spots to win Crystal’s heart.

However, as filming for Crystal’s season begins, she is already developing feelings for the show’s executive producer, Virginia Gene Robertson. When Crystal confesses those feelings, Gene urges her to forget them and move on. They cannot have a relationship. Never mind that Gene feels just as strongly for Crystal after spending countless hours poring through footage that reveals a complicated, layered woman. A mysterious, vulnerable woman.

Crystal tries to give a fair shot to each contestant, including the hugely pregnant Rowena Williams, the sexy butch Van Elliott and the gregarious Dolly Gaskins. However, when higher-ups at cable channel Rainbow World get wind of murmurings that something is going on with Crystal and Gene, life can only get worse.

What’s a lesbian in love to do when the woman she wants urges her to marry someone else? Find out on the shocking season four finale of Will You Marry Me?

Chapter One

Once upon a time, there was an executive producer called Gene and a reality-TV show lead called Zara.

"You’re about to propose to Crystal, the love of your life, Gene prompted one very special evening. How thrilled are you?"

Zara mustered a grin. I’m thrilled to propose to Crystal. She’s the love of my life. Absolutely.

**

Being dumped on national TV felt like the end of Crystal Maitland’s life. Her body heaved, her bosoms gasped like bosoms never should, and pitiful sounds emanated from her mouth.

Blindsided! As if being tossed away like a pile of garbage was not bad enough, Dr. Zara Winters had promised Crystal she would propose. Stabbed in the back! By a woman Crystal was trying to help.

Up, down, up, down Crystal went on her roller-coaster ride. A curve here, a loop there, proffered glasses of vodka that Crystal refused. She struggled through an agonizing on-camera interview, eventually melting into tears. Her handler whisked her back to the room at Belleville Towers. A few minutes later, he hit upon a solution—a lifetime supply of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. He left, saying he would return pronto.

Thirty minutes later, Gene Robertson showed up instead. Crystal almost didn’t let her in, but Gene was not worth wasting angry words on. In fact, the entire damn show could take a hike up Crystal’s ass.

Gene showered pint after pint of ice cream onto the kitchen counter. I told Barney to take a break, she said.

Whatever, Crystal mumbled.

Gene’s dark eyes beseeched Crystal. I didn’t want this, boo. You know that.

Crystal laughed dryly and humorlessly. She had yanked herself off the roller coaster, but that did not mean her mood bloomed fresh and springlike. Sure you didn’t. Lucy will come back, and she and Zara will be right as rain. It’s a better ending than…than… Crystal could not find the words. She should have a ring on her finger right now. The most dazzling ring in the world. So what if the proposal would have been a sham? It would have been a proposal, a beautiful engagement on national TV. Crystal would have been a princess instead of the eternal woman left behind and friend zoned.

She had been perfect in her simple, knee-length white dress. Terrified, too. Terrified that she and Zara would discover that they were compatible after all, and they’d fall in love. Even more terrified that Zara still would not love her. Oh, how wonderful happily ever after could have been. Crystal realized at the moment Zara said: We don’t belong together, that she had been hoping for an improbable burst of love.

Gene groaned. You think I wanted this? Come on. It’s not what the script calls for. It puts us over budget. She sighed and reached for the peanut butter cup ice cream.

Why are you here?

Gene stabbed a spoon into the ice cream. To check on you. This doesn’t change anything. We’re on for you as season four lead if you want.

Crystal’s stomach was numb. She could not think about season four right now. She wanted to think about nothing, absolutely nothing.

Sure, she said tonelessly. Season four. Awesome. Damage control, that was why Gene showed up. Not out of any sense of guilt or goodness of her heart. Money. Damage control. Show business. Cold hearts.

Gene slid the ice cream toward Crystal. You had feelings for the good doctor after all, hmm?

I refuse to dignify that with an answer.

Gene snorted. Forget ice cream. We need alcohol.

Crystal’s numbness collapsed through her stomach, giving way to pain. I wanted to get engaged, she said in a choking sob. Even if—even if she didn’t love me. Even if I didn’t love her. Once we were engaged, things would have fallen in place. She would have tried to make it work. I would have, too.

Things wouldn’t have worked out, boo. Trust me. Gene busied herself with getting wineglasses and pouring generous amounts of ruby-colored Bordeaux.

Crystal swilled her glass back. I should be wearing a ring right now!

You get your pick of twenty women in a few months. You can find someone you truly love.

Crystal guzzled more wine. Sure, she’d get her pick of twenty women, but none would be a tall, drop-dead gorgeous veterinarian. Crystal moved slow. That was her problem. She’d moved far too slowly for Zara, for herself, and she was crazy if she thought she could juggle woman after woman and develop strong feelings for many.

I’m twenty-nine years old, Crystal said, anger heating her words. Twenty-nine, and I work with my parents! I practically live with them.

But you don’t, Gene said reasonably. You have your own apartment that—

I’m no good as a lead. I’m slow, plain, and—God, Gene. How do you plan to market me? You were so desperate for Zara to propose that you’ve conceded my season as a dud.

Nonsense! Gene glub-glub-glubbed wine and partook of another glass. She fixed furious, squinty eyes on Crystal. One of my pet peeves, young lady, is a woman who does not know her worth. Gene tapped a finger against her own temple. I did not get to where I am by making bad decisions. You will be a wonderful lead, Crystal. The camera loves you. You saw that with the PSA.

That ridiculous public service announcement. Dogs in cars. But Crystal knew what Gene meant. The transformation had been incredible. Crystal came alive on the screen in a way she didn’t in person.

You have all kinds of heat on screen. Gene nodded knowingly. You will be easy to market. A hot, hard-working, family-oriented woman. A business owner.

Business owner? I don’t have a share in my family’s—

Pshaw. Gene flapped a careless hand. Not to speak out of turn, but if something were to happen to your parents, you’d get the restaurant. It’s profitable, hmm? Nice, profitable restaurant.

Was it? Crystal did not think so. Her mother had let slip here and there that—

Crystal. Gene interrupted Crystal’s thoughts to take Crystal’s hands in hers. Look at me.

Crystal forced herself to look into Gene’s brown eyes. You. Are. Great. You. Will. Be. Fine. Repeat after me.

I’m great. I’ll be fine, Crystal mumbled.

Damn right you will! Gene topped off their wine. They drank, and Gene exhaled a heavy sigh. "Shit, boo. I really wanted that proposal. Did you see that sunset? Gorgeous. Lucy coming back is fine and nice, and if Zara proposes and Lucy says yes, then great. But I need to be in control of my own show! I could be fired. Two seasons in row and no proposals."

Crystal held her hand up. If she peered really hard, she could see the ring she was supposed to be wearing. The floor swayed under her, and her stomach felt tingly and warm. She was suddenly glad Gene had come. You won’t be fired, Gene. Zara will propose, and I’ll be great in season four. I’ll kick ass.

That’s the spirit!

I’ll have sex on my overnights, Crystal said. Yep, yep. With all four women. She giggled. Four at the same time.

Awesome. Knock yourself out!

Crystal’s overnight with Zara had been painful beyond measure. Zara minced no words when she said that Crystal lacked attraction for her. Crystal would always be in the friend zone, no matter whom she dated. Twenty women in season four, yeah…they’d screw one another rather than Crystal. Heck, they’d all pair up, and Crystal would be the odd woman out.

Damn, she muttered as she sipped on more wine. She’d gone from kicking ass to being the most loseringly loser in less than a minute. She imagined Lucy stepping off a plane tomorrow and the excited, eager rush into Zara’s arms. Her stomach clenched at the thought of her flying home to Chicago and having to carry the knowledge of her loser loserism. People gossiping behind her back. She was such a loser she could not even be fake-proposed to.

Get me nice women, Crystal said. Good women. No clowns and psychos.

Oh, boo, you know this ain’t the Brady Bunch. We need us some crazies to keep viewers and gain subscribers. They don’t watch for the romance, although they think they do.

I have given up weeks and weeks of my life, Crystal said. I traveled from Chicago to the sticks of New York. For what? For—for—to be dumped on national TV! Give me nice women! I deserve them.

Come off it. Weeks and weeks? You make it sound like—besides, you could earn thirty thousand dollars. We’ll talk contract terms later, but that is significant money for what amounts to two months or less of a work vacation.

Thirty thousand dollars? Holy moly. Crystal had been so preoccupied with the fake proposal she had not wondered about compensation for being lead. Heck, her being lead was compensation in itself. Gene had said, You’ll get some money, as if it were an aside. Maybe to Gene, thirty thousand amounted to very little.

Gene winked. Can I watch?

Watch what?

Your fivesome on the overnights.

Crystal scoffed. In your dreams. Visions of thirty thousand dollars danced across the room. The bills wore spectacles and tuxedos. They nimbly tap-danced out of the way of the Benjamin Franklins raining from the ceiling. She could pay off her car and put a down payment on a house. Get out of that apartment.

Fine. I guess you’re entitled to a few crazies, Crystal allowed.

Gene raised her wineglass. Let’s toast, boo. To you. To the best season ever.

They toasted, and Crystal studied Gene. Actually, not a bad-looking woman. Cute through the haze of Crystal’s increasing drunkenness. Gene was plump, nearing fifty years old, and while her hair was red like Crystal’s, Gene’s sproinged in frizzy curls. Zara had been difficult for Crystal to connect with because she was too much of a stunner. Too good, too sexy for Crystal. Made her feel like a shadow of a person. Gene was…well, she was Gene. Disheveled, unfiltered, potty-mouthed at times. Not bad looking.

You should do the show, Crystal said. Be a contestant.

Gene threw her head back and laughed. I’ll stick with watching your fivesome, but thanks.

Thirty thousand dollars, huh, Crystal mused. That sure will help with a lot.

Gene slid an arm around Crystal’s waist, and they stood in companionable silence. You help me, I’ll help you, Gene said. Guaranteed. Let’s see if we can’t get you an extra couple of thousand.

Gene smelled good. Improbably, like freshly mown grass. She felt good too. Strong, even. Part of her breasts brushed Crystal’s back, and she tried to remember the last time a woman touched her like this. Zara had not. God, Crystal was pathetic. Damned pathetic.

Will I find someone I want to marry? Crystal whispered.

Yes. I promise. We must cook up some crazies. That’s the nature of the beast, but we’ll get you plenty of marriageable material. Gene shifted position and crooked a finger under Crystal’s chin. Crystal became aware of the other woman’s mouth. Quite a nice, plump mouth. Pink lips. And her eyes. Astonishingly dark with hints of cinnamon. A small dent curved the skin near Gene’s nose, and Crystal wanted to press her finger into the indentation.

Gene’s breath came in sweet, soft puffs, and the smell of her was ruby, like the wine. It left happy sparkles in Crystal’s mouth, in her heart, in her clit.

That, and the thirty thousand dollars.

You’re perfect as lead, Gene murmured, her lips close and yet so far. Really. I’ll get you that extra two thousand.

Chapter Two

Seven months later, Gene gripped the firm, outstretched hand of Crystal’s father, Derrick Maitland.

Ms. Robertson, Derrick said, his naturally florid face deepening with pride. Welcome to Maitland Pizzeria.

Call me Gene, please. Glad to be here. She winked. Better stock up. Folks will pack this place once the show starts airing.

Derrick grinned his daughter’s grin. Slightly uneven, too much teeth showing—but in a good way. I’m counting on it, Gene.

Gene had grown overly familiar with every aspect of Crystal’s face during the past months. During her free moments filming and editing season three with Brad Jarvis, Gene sat, alone sometimes and other times with her assistant, Dallas. She and Dallas reviewed the footage of Crystal from season two—both the used and discarded film. They threw around ideas on how to do her makeup, how to shoot her and the general storyline of her season. Then budget woes caused by dwindling subscription numbers and the overrun of Zara’s season postponed the start of Crystal’s. Gene would sit alone and work on other projects in her cramped living room. Many nights, she fought the temptation to bring Crystal up on TV or the laptop. Often, she failed. Women with Crystal’s screen charisma were rare. They should not be hidden away in a pizzeria.

Plus, who could resist Crystal’s freckles?

Our camera crews will set up all over, Gene said. You, your wife, Crystal and the other workers just carry on business as usual. You have patrons ready to come in an hour, right?

Of course! They can’t wait. Nate Samuels, free pizza and national TV.

Two women entered the dining room, and they looked so much like twins that Gene had to take a moment to figure out which was Crystal. The other woman was, of course, her mother. Gene had seen pictures of Rosanna Maitland, but the resemblance was even more striking in person.

Inexplicable nervousness seized Gene. Crystal seemed to have grown ten times lovelier. Gene was a hard, hard woman. Natural result of show business. Work first. Business first. Always. Heck, she barely saw her kids grow up; they had lived with her ex-husband, and even now, Gene was often too busy for in-depth phone conversations with them. She brooked no pity for anyone, but something inside Crystal, a sort of vulnerability, touched Gene. It was part of what made Crystal glow on screen. It was part of what would make her a star. Zara Winters didn’t have it; Gene never felt the tug toward the TV to watch Zara for just two more minutes.

In fact, Crystal would be perfect for a role in Hip Joiners, a lesbian comedy-drama Gene had shopped around to no avail. The project was Gene’s baby, something she’d worked on nearly a decade before letting it see light. After countless rejections, the show looked like it would never happen. Maybe one day, Gene would finally face facts.

In any case, the tug toward Crystal was so strong that Gene had taken the time this morning to thoroughly work with her hair. Usually, she woke up and ran the pick a few times. Why waste time arguing with the disaster on her head? Today, Gene argued—and won. Before flying out of Los Angeles, she battled her hair for an hour. She applied three times the amount of conditioner she usually did, lathered up a storm and let the conditioner soak for a few minutes. She rinsed with cold water; it cut down on the frizz even as it half froze her. She also used a curl-shaping spray, a wide-tooth comb and strengthening cream. A diffuser blow dryer and hairspray did the rest of the work. Yeah, she looked amazing—for a change.

She’d also bought new clothes. She told herself it was simply that time of the year, and maybe it was. However, she wanted to look good for Crystal. She’d spent too much time investing in Crystal, reviewing the hours of footage, to not put any effort into herself.

Crystal! Gene pasted on a brilliant smile. Mrs. Maitland!

Rosanna, Crystal’s mother said, and Gene shook her hand. Finally, she turned to Rosanna’s daughter, met that hazel gaze that had blinked at her and studied her for countless hours and months. Captivated her, if Gene wanted to be honest about it. She did not.

Crystal, Gene said. Great to see you again.

Gene. Crystal’s smile and her voice warmed Gene. She became intensely aware of the shy hint of breasts peeking from Crystal’s U-shaped shirt. She wrestled not to lower her gaze. Also, was Gene imagining it, or did Crystal’s handshake linger?

How are you? Crystal asked, many of her customary freckles gone into hibernation in the Chicago weather. You look great. Did you get a haircut?

No, Gene said gruffly. Same old.

Jerry joined them, and Gene said, I was explaining to your father that the camera crews are going to—ah! Here they are. Grinning man after grinning man shouted hello, trooped through the doorway and carried bulky equipment.

Gene’s heart fluttered. The beginning of a project inevitably filled her with excitement. She lived for this. Seasons one and two had not resulted in proposals as scripted, but season three with Brad Jarvis as lead had resulted in a storybook proposal. Hopefully, season four would too. Maitlands, Gene intoned, hold on to your seats. We’re in for a ride. Your daughter’s about to become engaged!

**

Crystal liked seeing Gene again. They had texted a little and talked on the phone occasionally to plan a few group dates for the show. Regardless, none of that came close to in-person contact. Crystal knew it was nonsensical, but she kept feeling Gene’s finger crook her chin up, Gene’s gaze into her eyes that last night Crystal spent in New York. The touch had been exactly what Crystal needed. It was solid, reassuring. So was the eye contact. It’d lasted briefly—not longer than it should have. Nevertheless, Crystal felt like it had been deep and meaningful. Gene had seen something in her, and she had seen something in Gene. They had formed a tangible connection.

Or Crystal’s imagination and loneliness were running amok. Something akin to rebound syndrome.

Hi! came a shout soon after Gene arrived. Davina Wallace, Crystal’s best friend, which amounted to little because Crystal kept Davina—and everyone—at a distance. Davina and Crystal had grown up together. Davina had been married five years and had three kids. Her family kept her busy, and she and Crystal rarely talked these days. However, when the show told Crystal to round up a gaggle of friends for on-camera interviews, Davina was one of the few people Crystal could think of.

Hey, Davina, Crystal said.

Hey yourself, TV star!

Crystal found Gene and made introductions. Gene Robertson, this is my best friend, Davina Wallace. Davina, this is Gene, the executive producer.

Davina, not discreetly, looked Gene over. Crystal had admitted a few weeks ago that she thought highly of Gene. You don’t say that about many people, Davina said. Do you have a thing for her? You have a weird look on your face.

A thing? Crystal sputtered, but Gene’s finger on her chin, Gene’s breasts pressing into her back, Gene’s gaze meshing with hers, looped in her mind more times than she cared to admit. She could not explain it, but she had connected with Gene more in that minute or two than she had with Zara Winters during several weeks of filming.

I don’t know, Crystal admitted.

Crystal thinks highly of you, Davina said now with a smirk.

I think highly of her too. Yes, indeed. Gene turned a beatific smile on Crystal, and she knew she was in trouble.

**

Later that night, Gene watched Nate Samuels, host of Will You Marry Me?, charm Crystal’s parents during his interview with them. Scenes of Crystal waitressing and eating pizza with her parents had been filmed, and gone well. She’d also done the requisite relationship history rundown (extremely brief) and the "I’m