Camouflage

By Kathleen Mareé

On the surface, Giselle Duzido could be called many things.

Sassy, determined and breathtakingly beautiful.

But one thing that would never come to tongue, is broken and fragile; because she’s learned to keep that part of herself locked up tight. The veneer she chooses you to see - has it all. Her designer brand is on the rise from her original base in Sydney, to two more stores in Los Angeles and New York; a part of a world she has always fit into seamlessly.

Career-wise? She’s flourishing. Social status? Almost famous!

But scratch just beneath her surface and there it is, eating away at her insides. But at some point, doesn't Sel deserve to have the happily ever after?

She may look just like another twenty-something woman, searching for that earth-shattering love...

But it's all just a camouflage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kathleen Mareé
• Release date: Apr 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370481859

Kathleen Mareé

From the earliest age I was a born storyteller.Ask my parents and they will tell you I had a gift for making a simple event seem like an elaborate one. Purposely? No. Innocently? Yes. It was my imaginary world that initially led me to believe I wanted to be an actor. All of that role playing and living in fantasy... it was an obvious direction for me. However, becoming quite uncomfortable with the limelight quickly saw that dream diminish.Over the years I turned my world of fantasy into stories, and eventually began writing them down. Before I knew it, 'Cut' had been completed.

Book preview

Prologue

Five years earlier…

I glanced at the clock.

The time ticked over to 6.53pm, which meant I had exactly seven minutes to finish dinner. He would be here soon and he hated to wait. I scurried quickly; jerking myself between the hot stove and oven, frantically stirring the noodles and turning over the meat – careful not to burn myself in the process. I was making his favourite. Carbonara pasta and baked chicken. Which was far too many carbs for my body to handle, but I ate it anyway. He didn’t like it when I wouldn’t eat what he did, but he also liked my tall frame still lean and toned. It just meant having to write-off a few hours tomorrow morning to workout. That’s if he didn’t stay over of course.

6.55pm.

I could feel my hands shaking as I drained the pasta; dumping it into the creamy sauce still bubbling away like the empty contents of my stomach. My heart rate was rising urgently. My brain, going over every single detail from my outfit choice, which was a simple but tight black dress, to the dinner preparation. I had to make sure everything about tonight was perfect and just the way he liked it. I didn’t like disappointing him because that always led to…

Well, things I couldn’t think about. I had to remain focused on the tasks at hand and not on past events, no matter how much my entire body unfortunately remembers them. Just then I hear the doorbell, and with wide eyes, I glance at the clock.

6.58pm.

He was two minutes early.

He was always punctual.

This may not be good…

I anxiously wipe my sweaty palms on the front of my apron; quickly hanging it in the pantry before fidgeting with my outfit on approach to the front door. With each short step, my heart leaped and bounced, like it would break through my chest and escape out the window. A thought I had to block out many times over the past six months when everything started to change. The year prior to that, everything was great. Perfect even…

I met him at the beach when Gem, Leah and I were working on our tans. We were passing our days engrossed in the usual ogling of hot guys on the sand, and gossip about our earlier dates from hell. With the sun shimmering off the water, I caught sight of the six-foot olive-skinned god, who was all solid muscle in all the right places. A broad, sturdy chest and bulky arms that would have no trouble tossing me over his shoulder so he could have his way with me; and a narrow waist with strong thighs that showed off each muscle in fine detail. His shaved brown hair that I had imagined running my hand over and the glimmer in his matching brown eyes, cheeky enough to determine he was trouble. But that was always my type. He cockily approached me, flicking water on my heated skin, causing me to shriek out and call him names. The flirty banter back and forth came far too naturally, before he blatantly asked me out. He knew what he wanted he said.

And that was me.

But fast forward to a pinnacle moment over a simple dinner in my Melbourne apartment about six months ago and life as I knew it - changed dramatically…

I shook my head, and ran my fingers through my hair, letting the soft caramel waves fall lusciously down my back. He always liked my hair this way, I reminded myself, as I brought my focus back to the front door where I knew he was waiting for me on the other side. I take a steadying breath, before pulling the door open towards me. And there he was. I caught his eyes before I could even speak, as it was usually the key to what kind of mood he was in. The light glimmer beneath the dark brown, like that very day at the beach, caused me to sigh with brief relief.

Baby, you look gorgeous, his deep voice eased. I could feel the skin in my cheeks heat. He always had a way of making me feel special. Loved. Which is how I justified why he was so overprotective of me. Even if it terrified me at times.

He steps into my apartment onto the light hardwood floor and I feel his firm hand on my waist, before he brushes his lips to my temple. My heart rate steadied a little. These were all good signs.

I closed the door behind me, before scurrying to catch up with him as he headed into the kitchen.

Dinner is almost done. I was literally about to plate it up for you, I hurried, as I took the saucepan off the stove and began dishing it onto our plates.

It’s okay, I am a little early. I just couldn’t wait to see you.

He leant his overwhelming frame over the bench where I was plating dinner, his crooked grin taking over his entire face. It was sweet words like this which twisted my stomach. The faint waft of his mint gum that he always smelt of, reached my senses; further awakening the knots in my tummy.

He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

Babe I could get used to this. Sexy wife in the kitchen getting dinner ready for me.

I was glad my back was facing him as I approached the oven for the chicken, as the utter panic on my face would have been too obvious to hide. He had been hinting at us spending our life together for the last few months, and whilst I loved him, I couldn’t escape the terror that filled me when I thought about being tied to him forever. I force an unsettling smile as I approach the bench, the tray in my oven-mitted hand. Not knowing what to say, I just continued plating our meal.

Would you like me to get you a beer babe? I asked cautiously, as I carried the hot tray to the sink and discarded the mitt. I held my breath while I awaited his response as the addition of alcohol could turn the night either way. And the unknown is what has me so on edge.

I can only have one since I’m training. Here I’ll get it.

He jerked away from the counter and trotted to the fridge. I tried to keep myself busy with setting the table so I didn’t watch in pained anxiousness. I was on pins and needles, and I wasn’t sure if it was in a good or bad way. Not yet anyway.

By the time I placed our plates on either side of the glass table, I stood behind my chair as he approached me. His wicked smile that had originally stolen my heart, beamed at me, as he handed me a glass of red wine before snaking his muscular arm around me, tugging me into his side.

Fuck I love you babe. I love you so damn much, he muttered, grazing his nose up and down my cheek. You know that right?

I swallowed heavily, automatically nodding against him. This was the man I had fallen for all that time ago. This sweet, yet burly guy who only had to flash me his devious smile and I literally melted on the floor. I gripped his forearm and tickled the light hairs beneath my fingers, trying to relax into his embrace. I got half way there, but it was hard to let myself completely relax in case everything started to change again. When I felt his brief kiss on the side of my cheek, he took his place at the table across from me, and I sat down in mine.

Today was a good day.

We ate our dinner in between fairly easy chatter, although I couldn’t deny the underlying tension that seemed to be waiting on the sideline. It was mainly talk about his training which was really intense at the moment. He was an amateur mixed martial arts athlete, and he was hoping to win his way to the top of his class. The sport, whilst it was growing in size in Australia, was far more well-known overseas. He trained his body hard, which you had to do in the sport or risk getting yourself seriously hurt. I used to love his dedication to his training, as it meant I was lucky enough to snuggle into those sculpted muscles. Now, it also meant I had many nights to myself during the week, which was a newer reason I didn’t mind his hectic schedule. He had been training extra hard over the past few weeks since he was due to meet one of his classes higher-ranked competitors. There was a lot riding on the win for him to further his own ranking. I didn’t understand much more than that. I got by with just enough knowledge to be able to talk to him about it. I learned that he didn’t like me knowing more than he did, so I kept to the basics. It made him happy that he knew more about the topic than I did.

I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much babe. You know how training is and all, he mutters, placing his fork down on his plate and taking a swig of his beer.

I don’t mind. You do what you need to do.

I took another sip of my wine, and watched him as he gazed at me. He raised his elbows on the table in front of him, and the very glimmer in his eye that calmed me - was slowly vanishing.

You don’t mind not seeing me? he questioned, his thick brow raised high on his forehead.

My insides were instantly on high alert. Every single nerve in my body – standing to attention. And my heart was suddenly thumping in the base of my throat. But I tried not to panic and kept my expression as passive as I could.

Of course, I miss you, I whispered, picking up my fork and putting more pasta in my mouth so I didn’t say anything else that might aggravate him. I was walking on that fine wire now, which would either take my weight, or snap in a split second.

"Are you sure? Because I haven’t seen you much at training this week either. What have you been doing all week? Or should I say, who?"

I put down my fork with a shaky hand. I didn’t like where this conversation was heading. He loved me going to watch him train, especially before a big fight. He loved showing off how strong he was, and enjoyed gloating to the other guys at the gym how hot his girlfriend was. It all seemed harmless and cute in the early days of our relationship, but it quickly turned into a whole lot more. Often it would spur on his training when he would all but beat his training partners to a pulp just because they looked at me. I took another sip of my wine to help calm my uneasy nerves and gazed at him softly. His eye twitched at me. His lips formed a thin line.

I’ve been researching real estate for my store. Jakes been helping me and…

Jake?! he roared, slamming his fists on the table, causing the plates and cutlery to make a loud clang. I jumped in my seat, my hand flying up to my chest with a gasp.

My… My brother. Jake, I stuttered.

He sat back in his seat, running his hands through his hair roughly. You know how I get when I hear about other guys babe.

I know. I’m sorry! It was just my brother. He’s been helping me this week. That’s all.

I swallowed roughly trying to get my damn heart to take its place back in my chest. But it was caught so high in my throat that I was almost choking on it.

I missed you at practice. You know I like it when you come down to watch. His hands grab at the back of his neck - his elbows pointed high in the air. I could see his tense grip as his knuckles starting turning his tan skin a shade of white. I began to panic. Especially sitting at the table where so much glass and cutlery were in such close range. I tilted my head to the side in timidness, and shot him the sweetest smile I could manage. Trying to focus on the man I fell in love with who I know is still inside of him.

He has to be. He has to be. He has to be.

I stand up slowly and pick up my near empty plate, before carefully reaching for his. He never took his eyes off me, but as soon as I gripped the edge of the dish, his hand flew up and grabbed me tightly around the wrist.

I need you to come and watch me train.

The way his jaw clicked over each word, wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even a demand. I knew in this moment it was a warning. And whatever had gone on prior to this day, even the single event when I knew things had changed forever - was nothing compared to what would be next. I just felt it.

I will. I promise.

I tried to ease my wrist from his grasp, but he only squeezed me tighter. His eyes narrowed. The force of his fingers gripping my wrist beginning to cease circulation to my fingers, and after a few tense moments, he still hadn’t let me go. I found myself close to tears, but held them back for fear where they would also lead, before the words slipped out of my trembling mouth.

Babe, you’re kind of hurting me.

He glanced down at his large hand around my tiny wrist. Like the very sight caused him some kind of pleasure.

You’re mine Gis. Only mine.

Always, I muttered shakily, praying to God he didn’t notice how scared I was. He didn’t like it when he thought I was afraid of him. He yanked on my wrist until I was bending over the table toward him. His hot breath sweeping over my mouth as he eyed me seductively.

Maybe I need to show you who you belong to.

Before I could even blink I felt his mouth crash into mine. Hot, needing and rough as all hell. When I was about to switch myself off, so I didn’t feel too much of what was about to go down, I heard his familiar ringtone break the fierce sounds between us.

He pulled back harshly, nipping my lip with his teeth and probably drawing blood in the process. He glanced down at his phone, before seeming irritated. I just prayed it wasn’t at me.

Shit, I need to take this.

He pushed himself out of his chair simultaneously dropping his firm hold on me. As soon as he answered his phone and took off into the living room, I shook my hand to get the circulation back into my fingers. Hearing him talking quietly, I grabbed his dirty dishes off the table and carried them into the kitchen. I tried to shut off what might have just happened by keeping myself as busy as possible.

Maybe I was overreacting?

Maybe I was paranoid after all of the other times?

Before I let my mind wander too much, I had just finished putting the plates and trays in the dishwasher, when I heard his heavy approach to the bench. I looked up in time to see his hard grasp on the edge of the stone top, his head kept low to the floor.

That was Mitch. I have to go back to the gym. They want to run through some stuff before the fight this weekend.

I widened my eyes and dropped my bottom lip, showing nothing but disappointment that he had to leave so soon, despite everything inside me sighing with relief.

Now?

He lets out a heavy breath, before grabbing his keys off the counter and making his way to the door. I closed the dishwasher, and padded closely behind him. He stopped beside the front door, wiping his hand down his face like he was tired all of a sudden. And in that moment, he looked so worn out, that the little voice inside my head felt bad at how hard he was pushing himself. Without thinking, I reached up on my toes and gently wound my arms around his neck, leaning my forehead on his.

Will you come back later? I asked softly. When I was wrapped in his warm arms like this it was like old times. Like the way it used to be and I found myself unconsciously wanting him to come back – the whole incident that happened moments ago merely a distant memory.

He dug his hands into my hips, before giving my butt a healthy squeeze; pulling me further into his chest.

I’m not sure how late I’ll be and I have an early start in the morning.

I nodded, before falling back down on my heels as I gazed up at him. His eyes had that shimmer back in place, and he tilted his head to the side and carefully tucked the hair behind my ears.

"But you will be at training tomorrow afternoon to watch me. Be with me."

I will.

He gave me one last possessive kiss before heading out the door, and as soon as he left I locked it behind him; heaving out a large breath that I wasn’t even aware I was holding in.

I kept my hand on the lock for ages, trying to understand what the hell was going on. I was torn in two. He was under stress. He had been working so hard these past six months to get to his goal of becoming pro. I kept thinking that one more fight, and one more achievement would mean everything would go back to normal. And maybe it would. I loved him.

And he loves me.

He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

My dazed vision caught sight of my wrist still gripping the lock on the door, and the punishing purple finger marks had already swollen and bruised into an unsightly mark. I couldn’t help but wonder how much worse things may have gotten tonight. But I’m glad I never found out. Yet despite being so confused about the entire situation there was this at least...

Today was a good day.

Chapter One

Present day…

I was hustling my long legs down the busy sidewalk in Lower Manhattan, making my way from the subway to my New York store in Tribeca. It’s been such a long journey. After starting with a basic office in Sydney about four years ago, where my brother and I basically started making my own designs and begging local boutiques to stock them; I was now the head of two ‘Made’ stores in the United States. The first store opened in Los Angeles about three years ago, where my first employee and one of my best friends manages for me. Her boyfriend lived in LA so it worked out perfectly, meaning I could concentrate on moving our Sydney office into a small boutique premises. When my designs started being noticed thanks to a certain besties boyfriend-rocker, it wasn’t long before I got some partners involved and was able to open another store in New York. I left the Sydney store with my brother Jake, and friend-with-benefits Leah, to run so I could base myself in the states to further market the brand here. Whilst I didn’t come to the store too often, as I mainly worked out of my modest single-level loft in Dumbo, I enjoyed getting into this part of the city and overseeing my label. It was something that was so close to my heart, since my papa died years ago and never got to see my dream come to life. A fact which spurred me on more than anything, just to know I was making him proud of what I have been able to achieve so far. But I was far from done. World domination seems like a logical next step.

Giselle Duzido, I announce to my caller as I pick up my ringing cell phone.

I hear the gentleman introduce himself as a Mr Kyle Haberson; one of the senior executives in the partnering firm responsible for funding the two stores. He was back from his financial obligations in Singapore and wanted to discuss some business about the brand. Going into a world of fashion and designing, one thing I never thought about was the amount of boring business meetings it encompassed. The kinds of suits at these meetings weren’t about fashion at all. Most of them didn’t even know how to wear a suit right, and put the ‘senior’ in senior executive if you know what I mean. Not that I minded. It meant that I was able to concentrate on my work and devote the long hours to it. Just the way I liked it. I wasn’t interested in looking at men that way and haven’t been for over three years.

So, I have reserved a table at ‘Ci vu plait’ on the corner of Duane and Hudson at midday today. We can discuss our options over a late brunch. If you’re free that is?

The stiff French restaurant was literally down the street from the store but I had yet to dine there. It was one of those Parisian inspired places; all classy table settings and fancy interior with a price tag to match. But I knew how these executives worked. They wined and dined to prove how important they were. It was all about showcasing how easily they could make a booking at a place most would camp down the street for, or the size of what was in their pants.

Their wallet of course.

In this world, who you knew and how much money you had was almost like being a celebrity; and I had been tipping that group by association with the amount of high profile businessmen I’d been in contact with. I was building quite a network, even if I didn’t really realise it. I had never met Mr Haberson though, as he had been living abroad on business for the past few years. But that’s all I knew. I guess it would be nice to put another balding man’s face to the name I had heard so much about.

Late brunch? Wouldn’t that make it lunch then? Or is that some fancy New York term? I muttered sarcastically. If you didn’t know me, you might think I sounded a little rude especially when talking to a business associate whom I had never met before, but I couldn’t help the words that left my mouth sometimes. And if you didn’t like it, well, that’s your problem not mine. I had spent years trying to hold my tongue for fear what words would result in. But vowed never to again.

No, not some specific New York term. We usually eat a little later than on the west coast. You will learn that soon enough.

Despite visiting New York over the past two years, whilst negotiations and meetings were being held about opening up a Made store here, I had officially moved into a place a few months ago. When the LA store took off, and my Manager needed to take some time off to get married and have a baby – I leased a small apartment in Santa Monica across from the pier and stayed in hotels when I came to the east side. But with the opening of the store needing more attention, I decided I would have a base here for the time being. So technically, I was living bi-coastal for now.

Well I’m not quite up to speed with meal terminology. But brunch, or lunch – whatever we need to call it, sounds fine. I’m almost at the store now, so I will meet you there at midday to discuss our options.

I hang up the call and continue my way down the tree-lined street toward the store. I had to pinch myself every time I came by. Who would’ve thought that just some girl with a dream from Melbourne would have her own boutique in New York City. Just seeing the black-scroll ‘Made’ sign on the front glass window amongst the other exposed-brick stores - made my tummy do somersaults. Everything was coming together.

Finally.

I step through the door and admire the space. All white floor and ceiling, with the same exposed brick along each wall. The luxurious white leather sofa in the middle of the room facing the sole changeroom, which was basically an antique screen for privacy. The white desk and register along the back and the remaining walls adorned with a single row of hangers for the clothes. My clothes. It had a really simple yet funky feel about it, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was exactly the way it was meant to be.

Soph how’s everything going?

Hi Giselle. I didn’t know you were stopping by. Sales are great.

I run my fingers over the far rack, flipping through the tight jeans and distressed tees. The line right now is called the ‘Streetgance’ range. Which in my world, was a mix of streetwear with a hint of elegance. Most of my lines were mixed with some kind of glamour. My single pet-hate was seeing women dress like total slurries. Women shouldn’t feel like they need to show all of their goods in order to be considered the goods; in my humble opinion anyway. We owed ourselves more respect than just trying to get a guys attention. I, of all people should know about that.

And best sellers?

Definitely the ripped second-skin jeans. Customers are raving about how good the fit is.

I nod, as I pull out a pair of white ones with tears just under the knees and stow them under my arm.

"Great. But Soph, we need to change the display out front. I was here three days ago and that dummy is still wearing the same outfit. I want them changed every morning okay?