Page 5 of CowSex
For some reason, this makes me feel like crying.
As successful as we are, I don’t often see people wearing items from our range, so it always gets me in the chest when it happens, or like now, when someone has heard of us.
“You’ve made my day,” I admit. Unable to wipe the smile from my face.
“How did you come up with the concept? It’s mostly rainwear, right?”
“No, rain and festival wear. I got sick of getting rained on at festivals and decided to come up with something lightweight and fun that looked good and would keep you dry.”
“I used to work in marketing. How did you get your brand out there?”
“I already had a lot of followers on the blog and YouTube, then with the launch of Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, it grew from there. Our real break came when an up-and-coming model was seen and photographed wearing one of my water-resistant backpacks with the hands-free umbrella attachment and coordinating over the knee, wedge-sole wellies, all in my matching yellow and white daisy design, and things exploded.”
I know that I’m drunk and rambling a bit, probably more than a bit, but I’m so proud of what we’ve achieved.
“That’s just...wow. Fantastic. Well done you. Let’s get another drink and celebrate your success.”
“Let’s.”
We get another top up as I tell Dayna how I now employ a team of forty-eight people, from Kimberly O’Donahue –Kod, my bestie and personal assistant–to fabric cutters, sewing machine operators, van drivers, warehouse staff, and a promotions and publicity team.
“Is that what caused the split with your boyfriend, your job?”
“No, it was his job. Although, I’m not so sure now. I don’t know if we’d run our course and it was time to go our separate ways.”
“No children, I’m assuming?”
“No, I’d like them, though. I’m ready for all of that and have been telling him for the past two or three years that’s where I’m at.”
“He doesn’t want them?”
“He proposed as soon as I mentioned us splitting up, but...” I look at her and roll my eyes, she rolls hers in response, and I smile at our silent girl talk. I’m English, she’s American, but girl speak is a universal language.
“I want to moveoutof the city but Reggie, my ex, helikeslivinginthe city. He likes—actually, heloveshis BMWi8. He lives for our holidays at the adult only resorts in Turks and Caicos, Cozumel and Aruba. He enjoys dining out at the best restaurants and being seen at the most exclusive clubs and bars. Everything we did socially, together or apart, was all about the image and persona he wanted us to represent.”
I pull the soft blanket, which has been sitting in my cubbyhole in front of my seat, out and then drape it over me as I speak. I’m suddenly feeling cold. Not sure if it’s the Reggie talk, a drop in temperature, or tiredness, but a shiver rolls through me.
“I was born in Essex and raised by my mum, who worked for Marks and Spencer. My dad cleared off when I was two-years-old. I happened to have hit on an idea that has given me a career, which earns me a better-than-average living. I don’t give a flying fuck where I eat and drink, or who I’m seen with,” I explain. Not sure at this stage if she’s even understanding a single word I’m saying.
Dayna keeps her head turned my way and listens to me vent.
“On point eyebrows, my next purchase from Michael Kors, and never running out of MAC soft and gentle, are the things that I care about most days. Maybe that makes me shallow, but I never have and never will pretend to be anything more than the working-class girl I was raised to be.”
“That’s not a bad thing, Gracie. What does Reggie do, for work I mean?”
“International banking. He basically buys and sells currencies to make other people rich. Don’t get me wrong, he’s very good at it, but I don’t think he will ever be satisfied. Reggie’s family were Irish travellers,” I continue to explain why I think Reggie is the way he is.
“He’d moved around from camp to camp until he was seven. He was the youngest of six children, and it was when his mum was pregnant with her seventh that his family finally moved out of their caravan and took up residence in a house.”
I sip my wine and stare at the flight tracker on my screen for a few moments, wondering what his reaction will be once he realises I’m gone. I never told him I was leaving. I left a note explaining that I’d gone travelling for the next six months and he could message me via social media or to get in touch with Kimmie if there was anything important that he needed to discuss. I planned to get a US SIM card for my phone once I got myself settled, and I wasn’t planning to let him have the number. A clean break is what we needed. Well, I did anyway.
“I think it’s because of Reggie’s upbringing that he feels like he has something to prove. Being called a ‘Gipo’ and ‘Pikey,’ for most of your childhood is bound to have an effect, but the sad thing is, he has no contact with any of his family. We were together for three years before he told me his background. So, what’s it all for?”
I turn my head towards Dayna, who’s starting to look a little blurry. “You tell me because I have no clue. He works his arse off, but his family doesn’t even know how well he’s done for himself because he won’t have fuck all to do with them.”
I’d been doing reasonably well at reining in my f-words, but…. well, wine.
“Trying to change your past and rewrite history is like saying a big fat fuck you to the people that gave you the background knowledge to achieve whatever successes you have in life. For me, it was people like my mum and my grandad, and I feel like I owe it to them to always be myself.”
