The Green-Eyed Maid Inn

She cracked a smile. “Off the record?” she asked.

After another couple of weeks I had all but forgotten about the ‘mystery girl’ situation Shannon and I had set up at the first concert. We talked almost every night on the phone, and she told me what she and the band were up to, but it felt ‘normal’ to me, I guess because I was in on the ‘mystery’ as it were.

All her fans knew was that suddenly one night, she did one song with her signature monogrammed pink glove, and then in her next set it was gone, and backstage photos leaked by one Raymond Max revealed Shannon’s arms around a girl with a short red pixie cut, wearing her glove instead.

But for me, life went on as normal. Even my ‘new’ duties as Hostess only took up a very small portion of my time, probably because I still dressed like any other member of cleaning staff, although people sought me out a lot more for selfies, due in no small part to my fellow maids who would gleefully point me out to guests - better me than them, it seemed.

I didn’t mind, as I’ve said before. I reveled in the role, being able to give out little nuggets of information I’d learned about Cambridge history as it related to the Inn.

So, you can imagine my surprise when, as I was leaving work one mild autumn afternoon about a month later, a young woman in her late 20s approached me. She was carrying a really nice camera, I noted - because I’m a photography geek myself, and when someone walks up to you carrying camera gear that’s worth more than your motorcycle, you tend to notice.

“Hey there,” she said in a suspiciously friendly tone.

“Hey,” I said, pretending innocence. “Sweet glass.”

“What?” she said, completely caught off guard.

I grinned and nodded toward her camera. “1DX with a nifty 50 1.2 L,” I said. She blinked at me and then laughed. “I’ve got an older first gen 6D at home myself, but I’ve only shot on a 1.2 lens once for a school project. It was magical though, getting to crank the ISO down and open up the aperture all the way.”

“Well this is not how I expected this to go,” she said. “What’s funny? I normally shoot on a 5D Mark 2, but my roommate let me borrow the big dog so I could try out low light shooting this evening. I’m Valerie,” she said and offered her hand. “I’m a freelance contractor for Vogue. Are you Riley?”

I stopped midway through retracting my hand after shaking hers. “Yes?” I answered cautiously. She put up her hands and giggled.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to cause trouble. I just want to talk, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Come on inside. Can I get you some tea or coffee? We have espresso, cappuccino, even PSL,” I said, showing her to the tea room.

“Oh, can I try the GEM’s PSL?” she asked. “I’ve heard it’s the best in the city!”

I laughed. “Evan will be glad to hear you say that,” I said. Evan was our resident coffee expert, although he mainly focused on running a clean kitchen for the hotel guests. I had only interacted with him a handful of times, but he always came across as a very down to earth, humble guy, so I liked him a lot.

After getting our coffee - because there was no way, in costume or not, that I was going to make someone else carry it to our table after ordering, I sat down with Valerie.

“So, Valerie from Vogue,” I said, causing her to snicker snort behind her cup as she tried to sip her coffee. I giggled. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. What was it you wanted to talk about?” I had a very good idea already, but, I didn’t want to lead the conversation especially if it turned out I was wrong.

“Fans of the Midnight Dolls have been speculating for the last month over who the mysterious redhead was in that now infamous Raymond Max photo. Her publicist and bandmates are staying tight lipped,” she said. “I was wondering if you had any comment?”

“No comment,” I said before setting my cup down again. “On the record, anyway.”

She cracked a smile. “Off the record?” she asked.

“Off the record, you found me,” I said. “I don’t know how, but you’re the first person that’s figured out who I am - and, yes, we’re dating.”

“I’m a little surprised no one else has figured it out yet myself,” Valerie said honestly. “I actually realized I had seen you before, several times actually, but most prominently in Shannon and Sinead’s instagram posts.”

“It’s the uniforms,” I said. “Honestly sometimes even my manager Kendra gets me and Emily mixed up, if Emily has her red hair in a bun under her cap.”

Valerie laughed softly. “Touche,” she said. A comfortable silence fell over the both of us for a moment.

“So what happens now?” I asked. She had already broken down her camera and put it in her bag, and she didn’t even have her phone in reach. It was just the two of us and our coffee, and, I realized later, something of a mutual respect for each other as photo geeks, too. She looked down at her cup thoughtfully.

“Well,” she said, “That’s up to you. I told my editors I was going to look into a hunch I had about who the mystery girl was. I didn’t tell them I had a solid lead or anything. If you want I’ll just say I couldn’t find anything after all, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“I appreciate that,” I said. “I don’t want to be famous, especially if it’s just for dating someone who is. I really do have feelings for Shannon, though.” I thought for a moment, and then smiled at her. “Let me text her really fast and see what she thinks.”

I pulled out my phone and fired off a text. A moment later, she was calling me.

“Hey you!” she said brightly.

“Hey, I figured you’d be in rehearsals so I didn’t want to disturb you,” I said. “Would it be okay if I put you on speaker?”

“Oh yeah that’s fine,” she said, and I hit the speaker button, setting my phone down. “We’re taking 10 while the engineers chase down some wicked bad ground loop issue. They’ve checked the leads, the boards and the PA,, and now they’re discussing if they need to bring in a dedicated generator and run extension cords.”

“Oh gosh,” I laughed. “I’m in the tea room with a photographer from Vogue,” I said.

“Shit,” Shannon’s tone shifted. “It’s not Max again is it? Did someone rat you out? I’ll kill them if they did.”

I laughed again. “No, nobody said anything. She’s even willing to keep everything a secret if I tell her to. I wanted to ask your permission to do an interview with her though. I was thinking she could publish it under the terms that for now, I could remain anonymous, you know?”

“Oh that’s a grand idea,” Shannon said. “But, babe, you don’t have to ask my permission for that, you know that!” She giggled. “That’s so sweet that you thought of me though. But really, I’m just worried about you, especially this weekend.”

“Wait, what’s this weekend?” I asked, starting to panic that I might have forgotten something. Shannon giggled.

“We got invited to a movie premiere because some of our music is being used in the soundtrack. I thought I told you about it?” she asked.

“Oh you did,” I said. “I just wasn’t sure what that had to do with me and talking to Valerie here.”

“Well,” Shannon said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I was wondering if... maybe you’d consider coming up to NYC to walk the red carpet with me? You don’t have to of course, and I won’t lie, it’s a full fancy dress riding up your ass stumbling around in uncomfortable stiletto heels all night affair so you so do not have to say-”

“Yes,” I answered, even as she said it. She giggled again.

“Really?!”

“Yes,” I repeated and giggled. “Really. I’d love to!”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much Riley,” she bubbled happily. “Can you make it up here earlier than Friday to try on evening gowns, or do I need to pull a diva and have Serena come to you?” she asked. Poor Valerie was just sitting there politely, clearly trying not to giggle as she unintentionally eavesdropped. I was the one who put Shannon on speaker after all.

“I’ll have to talk to Erika. I’ll text you in a minute after I find out more?”

“Sounds great,” Shannon said. “Either way this is going to be so much more fun with you here! I love you, Rye.”

I looked up at Valerie after we hung up. “I am so sorry about that. She’s always doing something like that to surprise me.”

Valerie shook her head slightly. “It’s totally fine. Did you decide what you want to do?” she asked.

“About Vogue?” I asked and then nodded. “Yeah. I know I was just talking about being anonymous, but I don’t think that’s going to be an option. I just have to accept that being in a relationship with Shannon means people are going to want to know more about me.”

“Oh, oh that’s so good,” Valerie said as she quickly dug a pen and a small notepad out of her camera bag. “Mind if I use that?”

“Of course,” I said. “Forget off the record or anonymous. I’m giving you the exclusive scoop on Riley Denise Sullivan.”

Riley Denise Sullivan wasn’t what was on my driver’s license, but there was a Riley D on there, and when I told Mom I was thinking about changing it to Denise, she wholeheartedly approved. It wasn’t something I was in a hurry to change yet, while I saw how I did on the hormonal cocktail sashaying through my veins, but I had been considering it more and more strongly. It was definitely something I needed to talk to Stephanie about at our next meeting, but, more and more I found myself examining my past through the lens of being transgender, and seeing things that just, well, lined up differently in retrospect.

I know I had told Stephanie I wasn’t the girliest girl who ever girled, but in a weird way, I sort of was, at least, when I let my guard down. My sister Avery calls it masking, and she’s really good at it. It’s something people with autism did - according to her, again, and, for the longest time I think I did too.

For example, back in high school when I was on yearbook staff I’d often be the only “guy” in a room, or even a dark room, full of girls. But for me, and for them, we were just hanging out, developing photos, occasionally gossiping about their boyfriends. When I stopped pretending to be a guy and just acted like me, I was a lot happier, and so were the people around me, it seemed.

I think it’s part of why Christie and I never worked out, either. We had so much fun together, but we always felt more like friends, or even sisters, than romantic partners. We only kissed once, and that was just for show because we had been dating for two months at that point and people were beginning to ask questions.

Of course, I never told Valerie any of THAT. I told her about me, my life, about how I was just coming to terms with being gay when Shannon walked into my life, but I also let slip how our first date consisted of us falling asleep on the couch watching Netflix rather than anything risqué.

Valerie scribbled everything down so fast, like a woman possessed. I even let her take several photos of me, including one that kind of echoed the selfie I’d taken with Shannon by the fireplace before, just, obviously without Shannon, and without me being in uniform.

We parted with the understanding that Vogue would get to post the news article on Thursday ahead of the red carpet event, and announce that I’d be attending the showing of “Life’s a Highway” with the band. I even hinted that I’d heard through the grapevine that one of the other band members might be showing up with some arm candy of her own, too, but didn’t give any details since I wasn’t 100% sure Alyssa’s new boyfriend could fly in in time. And of course everyone knew Sinead was dating Shawn Teegan, one of the movie’s minor stars.

I found Erika’s door wide open so I stood in the doorway and peeked inside. She was on a call, but grinned as she waved me inside. She held up one finger as if to say ‘Just one more second’

“I’m looking forward to it. I promise you’re going to absolutely love your stay. Yes, actually, she just walked into my office,” she said, grinning over at me. “I don’t think wild horses could keep her away, but I’ll let her know. Thank you Melissa.”

She put the phone down and then exhaled. “I love that woman to death, but my God, she can talk. That was Melissa Winters. You probably have no idea who she is,” she asked more than stated.

“My sister Fi’s friend Marylin is actually one of Winters Inc’s top models,” I giggled out. Erika looked surprised and laughed.

“Goodness, it really is a small world isn’t it? Then I don’t have to tell you how incredible it is that she’s personally asked us to host several of her talent next week.”

“That’s amazing,” I said, excited for Erika. But that just begged one question. “What... Why was she asking specifically about me?”

Erika giggled softly. “Oh, don’t panic sweetheart. She told me several of her girls were just really looking forward to meeting the new hostess. That’s all.”

“Oh, good,” I said, relaxing.

“Now, what can I do for you?” she asked.

“I hate to ask, because you were already giving me Friday off so I could get my bike, but Shannon just spur of the moment invited me to the red carpet premiere for “Life’s a Highway” up in NYC, and asked if I could get away a day early so we could shop evening gowns.”

Erika’s smile widened. “Really? Oh Riley, I’m so happy for you,” she said. “I’ll make you a deal. If you can pull a double shift Monday - as a hostess I mean, not spending 12 hours cleaning!” she laughed softly. “If you can do me that big favor I’ll give you the rest of this week off.”

I nearly swallowed my gum, although granted, I had been trying not to chew it since Valerie approached me earlier so it was kind of lingering around anyway, and I had just been too polite to spit it out somewhere. “Yes, of course!” I said brightly.

“To tell you the truth, I wanted to try and bribe you into taking the double shift Monday anyway. Not just the Winters Inc models, but several other guests reservations are coming filled, while this week we’ve just got walk-ins. Leafer season is upon us, ” she teased.

“I’ll brush up on my Cambridge history this weekend,” I giggled as I stood. “Thanks again Erika. You are an absolute angel.”

“See if you still feel that way Monday night,” she laughed.

‘Erika gave me the WHOLE WEEK OFF,’ I texted to Shannon.

‘Yay!!!’ she texted back. ‘LMK when u leave so Nicole can meet u at the train station k?’

‘Will do was thinking of taking the accelli. Thats prob 3-4 hours so prob 9pm?’

‘Tonight? Omg u dont have to rush’

‘I know but Ive never been to NYC. It’s a street snapper’s paradise.’

‘A what?’

I giggled. I’d have to explain it to her later because texting was just too complicated. I dropped my phone into my messenger bag for now and walked to the corner to wait for my bus.

Appropriately enough a couple of street buskers were set up close by, playing “Life’s a Highway”. The girl, rocking a boho look with a suede fringe jacket and extremely long brown hair, was singing while playing a big acoustic guitar, and the guy sitting next to her had a four string bass, but it was an acoustic too. I couldn’t help it and stopped to listen, fascinated.

When they finished the song I dropped a $10 bill in their tip jar.

“Thank you so much!” she said brightly.

“Just wish I’d brought my camera,” I said, after snapping a pic of them with my phone camera. It just wasn’t the same. “You going to see the movie?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” the guy said giving me two thumbs up. “I heard Shawn Teegan is really funny.”

“Yeah,” the girl nodded, “We’re not usually movie theater types, but that’s one date night we’re making an exception day 1.”

My bus pulled up before we could talk any more, plus I didn’t want to distract them from making more money as a fresh group had just gotten off the bus, stopping to hear them play, so I quietly slipped away and hopped inside to head home.