Page 7 of Get Undressed With Me

From there, BrittKneeSocks had taken off, her streaming channel where she shared fashion tips, her outfit choice of the day, and her sock choices for her chronically cold feet. Somehow, her content led to a large online following, people asking her advice on what to wear, how to wear a piece, or just wanting to see what she put together for the day. Brittany loved it, loved the sense of community and the feeling of actually helping people with a small aspect of their day.

Kathleen had hated her streaming at first, calling it a “useless hobby” that took time away from Brittany pursuing a real business career. Brittany somewhat understood her point. Growing up, Brittany had often heard the story about how Kathleen had wasted her youth waiting for Brittany’s father to leave his wife. It wasn’t until Brittany was a teenager that Kathleen finally saw the reality, that she was simply a side piece to Brittany’s absent father and that he would never break up his home for her. After a brief depression, Kathleen had bounced back and completely focused on making sure Brittany didn’t make the same mistakes she did.

Which is why the streaming thing wasn’t ideal to Kathleen, who thought Brittany was wasting her time. But after the first sponsorship with a sock company, a small bit of income but still exciting, Kathleen changed her tune and threw herself into managing Brittany’s career as a fashion influencer. It had been Kathleen who had brokered the deal with Champagne, and this post-meeting call was just as terrible as Brittany had known it would be.

“You’re overreacting, Mom.” Brittany tried to keep her tone light, professional. She glared down at her manicure, the gel nails making it impossible for her to bite through. Yet another thing in her life keeping her from what she wanted.

“You’re not designing for your college friends anymore, Brittany. This is the real deal. Champagne wants high-end luxury, not your usual cheap clubwear.”

Brittany couldn’t distinguish which part of the conversation was making her angrier—her mother speaking to her like a child, her calling Brittany’s designs cheap, or the fact that she hadn’t even commented on the photo she had sent. But Kathleen was right, Champagne wanted high-end, and Brittany wanted to deliver. This deal would make her career, propel her from just another online influencer to her dream of actually designing and creating fashion.

She just had to figure out what they wanted from her.

“Okay, Mom. I’ll rework the designs and get some new ideas in the next couple weeks.”

“Weeks? Why not tomorrow?”

Brittany blew out an impatient breath. “Because I’m heading to Kickoff, Mom. My train leaves tonight. You know this.”

The silence over the phone told Brittany that, while her mother had definitely known this, she had put it aside and pretended it didn’t exist like she did with everything she didn’t approve of.

“I still can’t believe you’re wasting time at that fan convention.” Her voice was cold, and Brittany braced herself for the passive-aggressive argument that was about to follow. Brittany hated when her mother was like this. If Brittany argued with someone, she wanted it to be loud, she wanted to get everything out in the open and not hide behind expectations or proper words.

But her mother was built different. As she liked to constantly remind Brittany.

“It’s great exposure. And it’s fun. I have several big meet-and-greets planned, I have panels I’m speaking on. Min’s here—”

The sound Kathleen made on the other side of the phone line could only be described as a derisive grunt. But if you asked Kathleen, women never grunted, so instead it was a sound that existed for her with no name and no intention other than for Brittany to feel judged. And while Brittany was willing to take a lot of her mother’s passive-aggressive comments, she felt her spine straighten at the thought of Kathleen judging her best friend.

Kathleen just couldn’t help herself. “I find it hard to believe you’re still friendly with that woman after what she did.”

And that’s all it took. Brittany saw red, and there was no putting her temper back on leash.

“She didn’t ‘do’ anything, Mom. Her asshole ex took a video of them together against her consent and posted it. She’s the victim, and it’s crap that you don’t recognize that, especially considering your history with men.”

Okay, the last part was definitely out of line, and Brittany braced herself for Kathleen’s reaction.

Her mother’s long-suffering sigh could’ve powered the sun.

“Have you even once considered that my ‘history with men’ as you call it, is perhaps why I am worried about you. I don’t want you to fall for the same traps I did at your age.”

Brittany’s mouth gaped open at that.

“Mom, it’s a stalker, not a married guy who strung me along for years.”

The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening, and Brittany was suddenly happy she wasn’t having this conversation in person. Brittany had a volatile temper, but her mother could go nuclear at the drop of a hat. And the subject of Brittany’s sperm donor was something that could trigger an attack.

Luckily, Kathleen was already focused on something else.

“All I’m saying is that if you want to be taken seriously in the fashion world, you need to pay closer attention to the people in your life that you associate with. Minerva is a nice girl, but even without those pictures, she doesn’t really fit the brand you’re creating. I’m trying to elevate you, and this deal with Champagne will do just that. I wish you would get on board with your own success, especially now that you don’t have to worry about that man anymore.”

“That man” was Robbie, who since the incident at his apartment had continued his whirlwind of dating in an attempt to stick his dick in as many people as possible, with his current date of choice being a popular cosmetic influencer Brittany admired. But Brittany hadn’t been lying to Gus when she said destroying Robbie’s equipment was the end of it. Her temper had flared out shortly after arriving home that night, and while she wasn’t exactly remorseful, she also wasn’t satisfied. She’d been left feeling empty and slightly worried she had disappointed Gus, which was annoying. Gus was a good guy, had always been, and him thinking poorly of her was rubbing her the wrong way for some reason.

Not that she wanted to think about that.

An alarm went off on Brittany’s phone, telling her it was time to leave to catch her train, thank god.

“Mom, I gotta go. I have to make my train.”

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