Chapter Six
“Cameron, please just relax.”
“I am relaxed.” For the fourteenth time since they’d been seated—Asher had counted—Cameron smoothed his fingertips over the collar of his navy button-down, then checked the top button. “It’s just really warm in here.” His hand trembled when he reached for his water glass. “Are you warm?”
“No, I’m not warm.” It was pleasant inside the restaurant, cozy, but nowhere near heated enough to cause the sheen of perspiration across Cameron’s brow.
“Breathe, sweetheart. Everything will be fine.” He chuckled when Cameron stared back at him with an expression of pure incredulity. “It will be. Trust me.”
The plan was rather ingenious in its simplicity.
He and Cameron would enjoy a nice, romantic dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant.
At some point during the evening, Talon would call in an anonymous tip, ensuring a gaggle of reporters, bloggers, and the like would be waiting for them when they exited the building.
Questions would, of course, be shouted at him, and Asher would answer the ones he and Talon had agreed upon while ignoring the rest. After a couple of minutes of this, Ryder would then sweep them into the back of a waiting SUV.
End scene. Exit stage left.
If everything went according to plan, the encounter would serve the same purpose as a press conference while, at the same time, appearing natural and unscripted. It was devious and underhanded and absolutely brilliant.
Though he’d been skeptical in the beginning, especially when Talon had suggested they not release a statement, Asher was beginning to see why everyone said the guy was the best. His methods might not be typical or conventional, and he certainly didn’t follow the standard playbook for these types of situations.
No one, however, could argue with his results.
The only problem was Cameron.
He’d pushed his mushroom ravioli around on his plate for the better part of twenty minutes, but he hadn’t taken a single bite.
He was pale and shaky, his complexion taking on a sickly gray pallor that made the shadows under his eyes stand out in sharp contrast. Every few minutes, he’d glance toward the front of the restaurant as if he expected reporters to come stampeding toward them at any moment.
In short, he was a goddamn mess, and Asher, despite his continued reassurances to the contrary, was starting to worry .
“Hey,” he said, reaching across the table for Cameron’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “If you don’t want to do this, we won’t.” Talon would probably kill him, but he’d abandon the entire plan if Cameron said the word. “I can call Ryder right now and have him meet us out back.”
“No.” His fingers went to his collar again, but he sat up straighter and nodded determinedly. “I can do this.”
“I know you can.”
“You’re not nervous at all?”
Asher shrugged. “Not really. In case you’ve forgotten, I rather enjoy being the center of attention.”
A slow but genuine smile lit Cameron’s face, and a bit of color returned to his cheeks. “I seem to recall something like that.”
“Good.” He gave Cameron’s hand another squeeze before releasing him to flag down their server for the check. “Then, let’s do this.”
While he waited for the young man to return with his credit card, he shot off a quick text to Ryder, letting him know they’d be leaving the restaurant shortly. Ryder’s response came just as the server finished bidding them a good evening.
“Ready to go?” Standing in front of the table, he held his hand out to the side, waiting for Cameron to take it. “Hold on to me and keep your head down,” he reminded him. “Just smile and be your gorgeous self. That’s all you have to do. ”
Cameron blushed right to the tips of his ears, but he wore a pleased grin as he leaned into Asher’s side and mumbled, “I remember.”
“It’s going to feel like forever, but it’ll be two minutes tops.”
Cameron just nodded.
“All right. Let’s go.”
A sign by the front door claimed the maximum occupancy for Sotto le Stelle was three hundred guests, and it appeared that every one of those seats had been filled.
A family in the corner looked to be celebrating a birthday.
A group of men dressed in business suits gathered at a table by the windows.
Three women sat in one of the high-backed booths, two bottles of wine on the table in front of them, and they all gave off a serious “Karen” vibe.
He wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them had already asked to speak to a manager.
Asher didn’t think it was his imagination that conversations had quieted, or that all eyes in the restaurant turned to track their steps as he and Cameron moved toward the exit.
Sure enough, when he looked, he realized a few of them had taken out their cell phones and were either snapping pictures or recording videos.
So far, Cameron hadn’t noticed the attention they were receiving. Unfortunately, that was probably because he was doing his best to not panic or vomit. Judging by his wild eyes and white lips, it really could go either way .
At the door, Asher paused, ignored the fact that he could literally feel Cameron vibrating beside him, and smiled. “Last chance to back out. Are you sure about this?”
Not taking his eyes off the floor, Cameron jerked his head up and down.
It looked more like he was having a seizure than offering his agreement, but Asher figured it was the best he was going to get.
Taking a last, calming breath, he settled his features into a mask of practiced neutrality and pushed open the door.
The flash of cameras illuminated the night like strobes of lightning the instant they crossed the threshold.
Recorders were shoved toward his face as reporters crowded in close around them.
Their shouted, rapid-fire questions echoed down the block and rang in his ears, blocking out everything else besides the pounding of his own heart.
“Mr. Dare, is it true that you used to be a prostitute?”
Nope, not that one.
“Asher, can you confirm that you legally changed your name after the Mitchell Faraday trial?”
Not that one, either.
“Were you ever romantically involved with Kyle Anders?”
Bingo . “I believed Kyle Anders was my friend, but no, we were never romantically involved.”
“What about Landon Dwyer? ”
Asher ignored that question as well and shuffled ahead a few steps to make it appear as though he was trying to get away.
Cameron’s grip on his hand was becoming increasingly painful, and his fingertips began to tingle with the lack of blood flow.
Still, he kept his expression politely disinterested and gripped Cameron right back.
“Are you currently dating anyone?” a slender man with round, oversized glasses asked from the back of the group.
Asher looked down at Cameron, then back to the reporter. “Obviously.”
That earned him a few chuckles before the questions started again.
“It’s been reported that you’re currently dating Cameron Stone. Is this him?”
“It is.” He tugged Cameron a little closer and bent to kiss his temple.
“Is it serious?” a tiny Asian woman with a high ponytail demanded as she shoved a cell phone with a little microphone attachment toward his mouth.
Although he hadn’t prepared for that particular question, Asher didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“So, you’re definitely gay?” the guy in the glasses asked.
“Or are you bisexual?” a blonde woman in a gray pantsuit interjected.
Asher thought she looked a little hopeful as she reached over the shoulders of her fellow reporters to point her own recorder at him. “Yes.” He paused, his grin growing wider. “I’m definitely gay.”
“Are you concerned that coming out now will affect your book sales of the Marshall Kane Mystery series?”
He hadn’t seen who had asked that particular question, but he shook his head and prepared to lie right through his teeth. Before he could get the words out, however, Cameron tensed and lifted his head.
“Why should he be?” He stiffened when the swarm turned toward him, their eyes feverish with anticipation, but pushed on.
“Asher is the same person he’s always been, and his talent speaks for itself.
” He spoke passionately, vehemently, and he actually released Asher’s hand to take a step toward the crowd.
“Why should his sexuality have any bearing on his ability to write a captivating story?”
Asher just stared at him, completely at a loss for words, possibly for the first time in his life.
His pulse raced, his chest tightened, and a tight, painful ache burned in his throat.
A strange, unfamiliar emotion bubbled to the surface as he stared at the back of Cameron’s head, but before he could examine it too closely, the questions started again.
“Are you a fan, Mr. Stone?” It was the guy in the glasses again.
Cameron paused, and it seemed for a moment that his newfound bravery would fail him. Then, he smiled and shook his head. “Aren’t you? ”
Thankfully, Ryder chose that moment to pull up to the curb in his black Escalade. With a fluidity that few could hope to imitate, he rounded the vehicle, easily parting the crowd as he made his way to where Asher and Cameron waited.
“Mr. Dare,” he greeted with a tilt of his head. “Shall we?”
Asher ignored the shouts and protests hurled at him as he followed the bodyguard to the SUV and urged Cameron into the backseat ahead of him. He’d just ducked his head and was about to follow him when one of the stray questions caught his attention.
“Mr. Dare, can you tell us when we can expect more Marshall Kane books?”
Turning slowly, he scanned the crowd until his gaze landed on a petite girl with golden hair and rosy cheeks. She didn’t look any older than twenty, but there was fire in her eyes, a determination he admired.
“What’s your name?”