Chapter 20
TWENTY
Vindication. That was what Rafe felt as he and Jake went over everything in Hélène’s studio, taking pictures and asking her outright whose work everything was. The feeling of pride that came from catching a cheat in their lies, and knowing that it would preserve and protect the integrity and work of so many young glass artists, gave Rafe a feeling like nothing else.
The sad part was that Hélène had a lot of brilliant, original work in among the things she’d pinched from everyone else.
“This is outstanding,” Rafe said as he admired the pieces of an unfinished hanging sculpture. “Your work is brilliant on its own. Why would you think you have to steal ideas from unknown artists?”
“You do not know what it is like to breathe the thin air at the summit,” Hélène snapped in reply. Her initial feigned grief and panic had melted into stony, stoic resentment as Rafe and Jake picked apart her world. “You have no concept of the expectations that can be put on one’s shoulders or the difficulty in courting the muse when you need money to maintain your life.”
“So you sold out,” Jake said with a frown, tucking away his phone as they prepared to leave. “Every artist has their ups and downs. All of us experience burnout or get stuck now and then. Instead of doing the work to get your muse back, you cheated people who wouldn’t be able to defend themselves just so you could make a buck.” He shook his head and gave her a look of disappointment that would have withered lesser people.
“Are you finished?” Hélène clipped. “If so, then get out.” She pointed to the door like a cartoon villainess.
“You’ll get started on those letters of recommendation for Jake immediately,” Rafe said. “I’ll text you the address where people can send them. And if we don’t have at least acknowledgement that they’re being written by the end of the weekend….” He held up his phone as a sign of how they would make her treachery public.
“Get out!” Hélène repeated, then turned her back on them.
There wasn’t much reason to stick around, so with a quick look to Jake, Rafe headed toward the door, where they’d left their backpacks, picked them up, and headed out into the balmy Paris morning.
“That went better than I expected it would,” Rafe said with a broad smile.
“Yeah, it did,” Jake said, though he wasn’t half as enthusiastic as Rafe would have imagined he’d be. In fact, he looked downright washed out.
“Is something wrong?” Rafe asked.
“No, no, not at all,” Jake said. It was possibly the biggest lie he’d ever told.
“Are you certain?” Rafe asked. He went on to venture a guess at why Jake seemed so off by asking, “Do you feel like we were too harsh with Hélène? Like we did something wrong or overstepped our boundaries?”
“No,” Jake said definitively, turning to Rafe as they paused at the intersection. “We did what had to be done. Yes, it was harsh, but so was the way she stole so much from so many. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain that she ruined at least half a dozen careers and caused young artists to drop out of the game entirely. That’s just evil, if you ask me.”
“Agreed,” Rafe said with a nod.
They walked on, pausing long enough for Jake to call an Uber from his phone. Once that arrived and they were on their way to Paris Nord to catch the train back to London, Jake sent Rafe the videos and audio that he’d recorded.
Once they reached the train station, before they got in line to buy tickets, Rafe asked, “Are you certain you don’t want to change plans and spend the weekend in Paris? It’s the city of romance, after all.” He grinned, hinting at all the things they could do in the city, or rather in a hotel room.
Jake smiled weakly, but said, “Nah. I think it’s best to get back to Hawthorne House. I’ve got to get started on that Global Talent visa, after all.”
His words were right, but everything about Jake screamed that everything was all wrong.
“The Global Talent visa is a safer option,” Rafe agreed.
Convincing the Home Office that their marriage was legitimate and not specifically so Jake could get a visa was risky. Although with the feelings Rafe had, it might not have been as risky now as it started out being. In fact….
“A weekend in Paris would be just what we need,” he said, his mind already racing with ideas. All they needed was just the right spot, a beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower, fingers crossed for good weather, maybe a trip to a jeweler. “You’ve never been to Paris before, right?”
“I haven’t,” Jake said, scrubbing a hand through his hair and glancing around the bustling train station. “But so far, the city hasn’t endeared itself to me. I think I’d rather just go home.”
Rafe’s budding plans deflated. Despite their victory, Jake was off.
Rafe had a fair idea of why. At least, he hoped he knew why. If he was right, he could fix it, but it would take a little work first.
“Alright,” he said, resting a hand on Jake’s shoulder and squeezing it as they moved to join the queue for tickets. “Let’s go home.”
Jake was amazed by how fast things moved once important people set all their balls in motion. On the train ride back to London, Rafe called his mum to let her know when they’d be back, and after consulting him, he’d sent the pictures and video to Todd so that he could spread the word and figure out whose glass Hélène had in her studio.
By the time they arrived in London, several people had already texted or called Rafe, and Jake, too, to ask for details about the whole story. And by the time they made it all the way back to Hawthorne House in the late afternoon, despite asking Todd to keep things on the down low until they were able to do more research and get all their ducks in a row, people were already making vague posts on social media that something was afoot in the glass world.
“Hopefully they’ll be able to keep the lid on things until you get your visa application sorted,” Janice said as she drove them back to Hawthorne House from the local train station.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Rafe said, glancing over his shoulder at Jake in the backseat, a twinkle in his eyes.
It was lovely that Rafe supported him, but after everything the two of them had shared, he wasn’t sure the support Rafe was offering was the support he really wanted.
The weekend passed in a blur of getting as much work on the visa done as Jake could while all the offices that he needed to file or ask questions of were closed. Miraculously, at least in his opinion, he received phone calls from two of Britain’s most influential glass artists, wanting to talk about his work and his plans for the future so they could endorse him for the visa in good conscience.
The rest of the weekend was spent working in the hot shop with Rafe. Hélène had stayed true to her word and made another post on social media saying she’d mistakenly posted the wrong photograph of her upcoming collection and that the work she’d posted was by Rafe and Jake. She even admitted she’d been inspired by their English countryside line. All of that meant Jake and Rafe had a lot of work to do to fashion more pieces for what would hopefully be their own exhibition someday.
Jake didn’t care if they ended up showing in the Tate Modern or if everything they made was sold through Hawthorne House’s website. He just wanted to work side by side with Rafe. But just as things started to settle for him, Rafe turned quiet and shifty.
“You’re not planning to go behind my back and claim all the credit for yourself, are you?” Jake asked, half joking, as they cleaned up the hot shop on Sunday evening.
“Not on your life,” Rafe said with a teasing wink. “That’s not my style.”
Jake managed a grin. “I know, I know. That’s something I would do, not you.”
“I was thinking of Hélène, but if the shoe fits….”
Jake laughed, tentatively feeling like things were on their way to being good between the two of them again. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had that everything wasn’t right with Rafe, even when Rafe invited him up to his flat for supper.
Supper turned into a lot more, and Jake didn’t end up leaving until the next day, but even that intimacy and the comfort he was sure they both got from sleeping naked in each other’s arms didn’t ease the nagging feeling that he was about to have the carpet pulled out from under him.
“Something is definitely wrong with Rafe,” he told Early a few days later, on a particularly lovely summer afternoon, as he worked on the initial round of paperwork for his Global Talent visa. “He’s been acting strange since we got back from Paris.”
“Has he?” Early asked from the table under the window in the office as they stapled syllabi for Robbie’s fall ceramics classes together. “He seems normal to me.”
“He’s definitely off,” Jake said, ticking the last boxes on the form, then signing and dating it at the bottom. “It’s totally disconcerting,” he went on as he got up and headed to the printer to scan everything. “Honestly, I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought that the feelings between us were starting to be real.”
He frowned as he slipped his documents into the printer and tapped the right buttons to get it to scan. Everything was great between the two of them. His body certainly thought so. He hadn’t been that satisfied in ages. So why was he so worried?
“Honestly, I think Rafe has fallen head over heels in love with you,” Early said, coming over to the printer to hit the right buttons when Jake couldn’t get it to do what he wanted it to do.
“Then why am I filing for a Global Talent visa instead of a fiancé one?” Jake mumbled, frowning at the printer as it whirred to life.
That’s what it boiled down to. He had everything he needed to move to the UK now, but he didn’t have Rafe. Not even for pretend. A few months ago, he would have been ecstatic. Now he questioned what he really wanted. If he didn’t have Rafe, would it be worth it to make such a huge move?
“Stop worrying,” Early told him, eyes dancing with mischief. “You’re overthinking everything. It’s going to be alright, I swear.”
“If you say so,” Jake sighed, then moved back to the computer to work with the images the printer sent him.
It only took a few more minutes. He had everything he needed, and after uploading the documents to the UK Immigration website and clicking “Done”, his Global Talent visa was on its way and in the queue.
A profound sense of disappointment settled over him. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the computer screen, no idea what to do next.
“Cheer up,” Early said as they leaned forward to look out the window. “I have a feeling everything will work out perfectly if you just give it a little time.”
“How much time?” Jake mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Less than you think,” Early said, stepping away from the window with a broad smile. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
“What?” Jake blinked and glanced at Early as they strode across the office.
Hardly stopping, Early grabbed Jake’s arm and pulled him out of the chair. “The fresh air will do you some good,” they said. “All this sunshine, the flowers in bloom…you never know what you’ll find out there to make everything feel better.”
Jake wasn’t blind enough to miss that something was going on. He let Early march him outside and noticed a few excited grins from other members of the Hawthorne family or students who were there for late classes.
As they rounded the house and headed toward the rose garden, Jake heard the strains of romantic French music playing. His heart sped up, and by the time Early marched him into the garden, which was not only filled with late-blooming roses, but most of the Hawthorne family, a bunch more flowers, and several clusters of white and pink balloons, he had a really strong idea of what he was walking into.
Sure enough, Rafe stood in the middle of the scene dressed in a tailored, pink suit that made Jake laugh out loud.
“Pink?” he asked, continuing to move forward as Early shifted to the side to join Rhys in the audience. “You’re doing this in a pink suit?”
“It was one of the only ones in the clothes room that fit me,” Rafe said, grinning broadly. “But I think it suits me.” He turned this way and that, posing in his finery.
Jake laughed again. “You look wonderfully ridiculous and ridiculously wonderful,” he said, marching right up to Rafe and slipping his arms around him.
“And you look gorgeous just the way you are,” he said, then slanted his mouth over Jake’s.
Jake should have minded the fact that they had an audience, but he didn’t. It was the Hawthorne family, the people who had taken him in and treated him as one of their own in a way his own family never had. They were the only people he could call family that he felt safe around, and he knew they had a lot to do with what was happening just then.
“Did you get your visa paperwork filed?” Rafe asked as he ended their kiss and took a half step back, taking Jake’s hands.
“That’s the most romantic opening line I’ve ever heard,” Jake said sarcastically, “but yes.”
Rafe’s smile widened. “Good.” He grabbed the back of Jake’s head and stole another kiss. “Because I don’t want there to be any doubt in your mind, not even a shred of it, going forward.”
Jake sucked in a breath even before Rafe sank to one knee. That was what the whole Global Talent visa was all about. It wasn’t a way to get rid of him or to push the responsibility of the visa away. It was proof that the two of them really were in love.
The sentiment brought tears to Jake’s eyes even before Rafe reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a grey velvet ring box.
“Jake Mathers,” he began. “You appeared in my life like an explosion of shattered glass that ruined everything. I thought you dashed all my hopes and cut short my dreams. I should have hated you for your antics in Corning, and maybe for a while I did, but something about you stuck with me.
“I should have said no when you called me up and asked me to fake marry you,” he went on. “Who does something like that?”
“Someone with nothing left to lose,” Jake said with a shrug, blinking to keep his tears from blurring his vision.
“Well, I’m glad I agreed to the mad scheme, because this summer has been the best of my life,” Rafe went on. “It’s been frustrating and beautiful, irritating and exciting. We’ve fought over silly things and made some of the best art of my life.”
“And mine,” Jake added, holding his hands to his face.
Rafe’s smile grew. “I don’t ever want it to stop. I don’t want this to be a pretend engagement for something as banal as a visa. I want the real thing. I want to work with you and be with you for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”
He opened the box to reveal a breathtaking band of gold set with gems that matched the colors in their English countryside work.
It wasn’t the ring that had Jake so breathless he couldn’t answer at first. It was the kindness Rafe had shown him. It was the acceptance when he shouldn’t have been accepted and the willingness to work with him when anyone else should have thrown him over. It was like fate had brought them together, and no matter what happened going forward, their lives would be immeasurably better because they were together.
He finally managed to nod quickly, then breathe out the word, “Yes.”
One of the Hawthornes watching called out, “Hooray!” as Rafe stood, took the ring from the box, and reached for Jake’s shaking hand.
“Calm down, it’s only an engagement,” Rafe said as he slipped the ring on Jake’s finger. “This just means that you’re stuck with me now, no matter what the Home Office says.”
Jake laughed out loud, looked at his hand with the ring on it for a moment, then threw himself into Rafe’s arms with a wordless sound of joy.
The family applauded and hooted as Rafe hugged him back, then shifted so he could rest a hand on the side of his face and kiss Jake with all the passion Jake could ever need. Jake kissed him back, his head spinning. He couldn’t believe his luck. He didn’t deserve Rafe in any way, but there he was, wrapped in Rafe’s arms, kissing him sloppily with far too many people watching, knowing that one way or another, they were going to be together. It was so much more than he ever could have dreamed of. He might have been a fake fiancé, but he was determined to be the best real husband in the world.