10. Oakley
TEN
OAKLEY
I’ve spent the last two hours digging through my closet trying to find decent clothes for the upcoming events. I have a suit that needs to go to the dry cleaner, but other than a few shirts and pairs of slacks, I don’t have much else. Even though he didn’t say so, I feel like I need to step up my game a little if I’m going to be Lowen’s arm candy.
Problem is, I don’t exactly know how to do that, and the person I would normally ask is Lowen. Keson would know but he’s on trip with his man. Who else do I know that has a strong fashion sense? I shuffle over to my bed and plop down, taking my phone out of my pocket and scrolling through my contacts until I land on one that brings a smile to my face. Of course.
I dial the number, tapping my foot on the floor until he answers. “Hey, Oak.”
“Hey, Sam. How’s it going?”
“All good. Are you okay?”
“Yep. I need a huge favor though.”
“Does it involve riding that horse cock of yours?”
I practically choke on my own spit. I forgot how filthy his mouth is. “Not this time. It’s a little more practical than that.”
“Intriguing. What’s up?”
“I’m attending some super fancy shit next week. I need some new clothes. Would you be willing to go shopping with me?”
Sam is silent for a second, but before I can sell my idea further, he squeals. “Are you serious? I get to dress you up? I’m so in.”
Chuckling, I let my shoulders drop. “Awesome. I’m on a tight deadline. Can I pick you up after work tomorrow?”
“You bet. I still work at the bank.”
“Sweet. I’ll shower and be there around five. I’ll buy you dinner for your troubles.”
“But no cock?”
“Sorry, can’t.” The idea of fucking Sam, as amazing as he is, doesn’t appeal to me at all now that I might have a real chance at Lowen. “I’m kind of wrapped up in someone right now.”
“Hmmf. Well, best of luck and all that, but if it falls through, you know where to find me.”
“I do. I appreciate you.”
“It’ll be fun. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.”
Ah Sam, coming in clutch for me. He’s one of the few hookups who really knew how to keep things chill, likely because he doesn’t want to be tied down either. He spent more than half his adult life figuring out his gender and sexuality, and now that he’s a proud bisexual man, he rightfully wants to experience every flavor under the sun.
He also has great style, so I’m positive he can help me put my best foot forward. Lowen may not care what people say about me, but I do. I’d hate to punch anyone’s face in for disrespecting him or trying to tear him down, so the best I can do is try to look like a step up from Alain.
While I have my phone in my hand, I open the browser and search his ex-husband’s name again. The first time I saw Alain’s face I did think it was kind of weird that Lowen would be with someone like that. He looks like a snooty, uptight porcelain doll with his upturned nose, perfect skin, and bright blue eyes, but there’s something disconcerting about his looks. Artificial for sure. I’d even go so far as to say there’s malice in his eyes. If he was a doll you found in a closet, you’d be afraid of it.
I scroll through pictures of him and Lowen together, and every one of them is posed and curated. They were both aware of those cameras. Lowen never looks happy in any of them. Or relaxed. Not like he does when he’s with his friends. He laughs easily with them, and the more he’s around me, the more I see of the man behind the facade.
Not for the first time, I read through some of the articles about how it all went bad, alleging that it was Alain who couldn’t keep it in his pants. How the fuck do you have a man like Lowen in your bed and fumble that? What a loser.
I’m about to close out when a new article catches my eye. It’s about the awards ceremony, and as I scroll it, it mentions the awards and the honorees. Holy shit. Lowen seriously downplayed the award he’s getting. A lifetime contribution to Parisian architecture? Damn.
I scroll farther, reading quotes from the founders of the publication praising Lowen for his work and noting his absence from the city of lights. Is he that humble or that detached?
The article lists the presenters—a bunch of names I’ve never heard before—and the MCs, one of whom is Alain. There’s a quote from him too about what an honor it is to kick off the US based facility.
After clicking out of that article, I find the one announcing Alain’s engagement and get a look at his next victim. My jaw drops. The man he’s engaged to is a Lowen look-alike, but the poor man’s version. Younger, less polished, less vibrant. In fact, after scrolling through several pictures of the men Alain has chosen since his marriage ended, they all have a Lowen vibe, but they don’t quite nail it.
I laugh to myself. He knows he fumbled the prize. Fifty bucks says he’ll be jealous as hell when he sees me with Low. This is gonna be fun.
I pull up to the bank a few minutes after five, just as Sam is exiting the building. He’s wearing a fluffy white faux fur coat with a form fitting black suit, a bright coral shirt peeking out from under the jacket. He looks like he’s stepping off a fashion runway rather than finishing a day at work. I chose wisely.
He opens the passenger door of my truck and hops up. “Hey.”
“Hey, Sam. You look amazing.”
His shoulder length hair is pulled back in a low bun, and he smooths a hand over nonexistent flyaways. “Thanks. You look good. Happy.”
“I am. Where should we go?”
“What kind of clothes are you looking for?”
“It’s this fancy award show with several events during the week. Architecture and design.”
“Sounds posh. Is it cocktail or black tie?”
“Um.” I draw a blank. “I don’t know.”
“We need to know. Can you call someone?”
“Yeah. Hold on.” I grab my phone from the console and dial Lowen, knowing he might not hear the phone if he’s in the midst of something in the bar, but he answers quickly.
“Hey, Oak.”
“Hey. Sorry to bother you but I have a question about the events.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Is it cocktail or black tie?”
“The events leading up to the awards ceremony are cocktail. The ceremony itself is black tie, but you could get away with a suit.”
Sam grabs my phone from me and hits the speaker button. “Hi, person. This is Sam, Oakley’s friend. I’m helping style him, so I want to make sure I know what’s expected.”
There’s a steely silence on Lowen’s end, and I swear I can feel the chill from here. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We’re going shopping,” Sam says happily, seemingly unaware of the change in Lowen’s voice. I’m not though. “How many outfits does he need?”
“As I said to Oakley, he can wear a suit and style it differently.”
“Okay, but if he wanted to shop, what should he get?”
Lowen exhales slowly. “Two to three suits, four dress shirts in different colors, and a tuxedo would be sufficient,” Lowen rattles off in a flat, dry tone. “There are five nights in total.”
“And style?” Sam asks. “Traditional, edgy, modern?”
There’s another heavy sigh. “Whatever Oakley feels his best in.”
“On it.” He hands the phone back to me and pulls out his own phone to scroll.
I turn it off speaker. “Thanks, Lowen. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Yep.” He ends the call so abruptly I have to look at the screen to make sure it’s really over.
“Okay,” Sam says. “I know a place where we can get things mostly off the rack, but they have a tailor on site if needed. Head to the freeway and take the Revere exit.”
“Okay.” I check my mirrors then pull into traffic. I’m still reeling from Lowen’s attitude, but maybe he was just busy.
“By the way, your man is hella jealous,” Sam tosses at me, still scrolling on his phone.
“What?”
“He didn’t like it at all that you have a male friend. Probably shouldn’t tell him how often you’ve made me come on your cock.”
I clear my throat. “It’s not like that with us. I mean, it is, but it’s one-sided. Or casual, maybe, is a better way to say it. He doesn’t want a relationship.”
He pats my thigh, chuckling. “Cute.”
“What’s cute?”
“That you think he’s not into you. Honey, I know a jealous man when I hear one. You’re going to have to fix it later. Is he pretty?”
I nod, even as my stomach twists. Is that why he was acting weird?
“Prettier than me?”
I glance at Sam. “Different.”
“Hmm. That means prettier. I’ll accept that, I guess. He’d have to be to keep you out of my bed.”
“Glad your self-esteem hasn’t slipped.”
Sam laughs, brushing his hand over his blond hair again. “Still going strong.”
I exit the freeway and drive down Revere street, finding a parking space. This is the swanky part of the city, lined with boutiques with names I can’t even pronounce. I never thought I’d willingly be here to buy clothes for myself.
Sam pops out of the truck and saunters into a store called Beauté. I follow him inside, but stop in the doorway, immediately overwhelmed by the sheer size of the selection. Sam waves his hand for me to follow him, then proceeds to rattle off all kinds of information about material, cuts, and fit as he pulls items off racks and piles them into my arms.
“Dressing room,” he says, pushing me in that direction.
I peel out of my jeans and simple tee and begin the process of trying on everything he pulled for me. I’ve never been a fan of trying on clothes, opting to buy the same brand of pants, t-shirts, and jeans online, but I have to admit, this is kind of fun. The clothes feel nice, and even better, they look good on me.
Wearing a sapphire blue shirt and a charcoal suit, I step out for Sam’s assessment. He taps his chin, then smiles.
“One second.”
He moves to the back of the store and returns minutes later with a pair of black dress shoes. They have very pointy toes and large buckles on the side.
“You need at least one pair of designer dress shoes,” Sam says. “Try these. Size eleven, right?
“These say forty-four.”
Sam laughs softly. “That’s the euro size.”
“Uh, okay.” I take the shoes and return to the dressing room to put them on. I can hear Sam talking to a clerk.
When I step out again, Sam smiles, fanning a hand in front of his face. “Sharp. Your man is gonna drool.” He turns to the clerk. “We’ll take that suit in the charcoal, the black, and…” He pauses, turning to me and tapping his chin. “And the merlot.”
“Excellent choice, sir.”
The clerk goes off to gather the suits while Sam grabs several dress shirts in different colors. “We can’t get a tux here. You can rent one.”
“I own a tux already.”
“From this decade?” he asks with sarcastic sweetness in his tone.
“Yeah, actually. It’s just a few years old.”
“Okay then. I think you’re set.”
“Awesome. I appreciate your help, Sam.”
“My pleasure. Plus you’re buying me sushi. Win, win.”
Laughing, I nod. “Fair.”
“Hope you brought your credit card. This place isn’t cheap but you’ll look like a million bucks.”
“That’s important.”
It’s over thirty minutes later when the clerk is done wrapping all my items, including the shoes and some fancy silk briefs Sam threw into the mix, insisting I needed them “for the plot.” The total is shocking, more than I’ve spent on clothes collectively in the last decade, but hell, you only live once. Lowen is worth it.
We walk back to my truck and I pile everything in the back seat as Sam climbs in.
“What’s your favorite sushi joint?” I ask as I join him.
“Sakana on Sixth.”
“Off we go.”
Right before I pull into traffic, my phone buzzes with a text. I pick it up and swipe the screen, staring at the words.
Lowen: I’ll reimburse you for whatever you purchase.
Me: It’s all good, Low. Thanks.
Lowen: Are you done shopping yet?
Me: Yeah. Taking Sam to grab a bite to thank him for helping.
Three dots pop up then disappear several times. Sam leans over, glancing at my screen.
“Uh oh. You fucked up.”
“How?”
“You told him you’re taking me to dinner.”
“We’re friends.”
“Us, or you and him?”
“Me and him, and us. You know what I mean.”
“But you’ve fucked him?”
The crassness in the statement would never bother me normally, but it sure the fuck does when it comes to Lowen. “I said it’s not like that. I didn’t fuck him.”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “Ooh, I hit a nerve. You have real feelings for this guy.”
I open my mouth to object, but nothing comes out. “Let’s say you’re right. How do I fix it?”
Sam’s expression softens. “Tell him how excited you are to show him what you got and how you can’t wait to spend time with him. You know, the truth.”
Blowing out a breath, I nod and turn my gaze to my phone.
Me: I can’t wait to show you what I got. I know you said you don’t care what anyone thinks of me, but I can’t look shabby next to the prettiest man in the city.
The dots pop up again, but when nothing comes through, I continue.
Me: Want to come over tomorrow and see the stuff? I’ll give you a fashion show.
I add a smiling emoji.
Finally a text pops up.
Lowen: Okay.
“All he said is okay.”
Sam scrunches his face up. “Oof. What’s the relationship here? Friends with benefits?”
“Not exactly. We are friends, but it’s more than that. We work together a lot, and up until New Year’s Eve, nothing ever happened. We kissed that night, and it opened the door a little, but he’s got a lot of reasons for keeping me at bay.”
“But you want more?”
I nod, clenching my jaw.
“And you’re going to an event with him?”
“He needed a date.” I’m not willing to explain the rest. “It’s important. He’s receiving an award for his work overseas.”
“Brilliant. My assessment, based on my limited knowledge, is that he likes you too, but he’s struggling with that. My guess is he doesn’t even know why he’s jealous right now, and he doesn’t like that he is.”
“What do I do? Treat him like a friend or…?”
Sam pats my hand. “Follow your heart, Oakley. Anyone worth a shit would appreciate that.”
I blow out a breath and just go for it.
Me: Sam is just a friend with great fashion sense, and I want to impress your crowd, but mostly, I want to impress you. I want you to feel proud of your fake fiancé.
Lowen: You don’t owe me any explanation of how you spend your time.
I stare at the text for a second before another pops in.
Lowen: But thank you. I appreciate your effort.
“He appreciates my effort.”
“Poor guy’s got his heart in a cage, doesn’t he? If you ever get it out, it’s gonna be magical.”
“Yeah.”
My phone buzzes again.
Lowen: I’ll come over tomorrow.
My shoulders drop as the tension releases. “He said he’ll come over tomorrow.”
“Good. Now say something sweet.”
Me: I’ll look forward to it, kitten.
The dots pop up again and I hold my breath waiting to see if he’ll scold or praise me.
Lowen: Meow
He adds a cat emoji and I smile. “I think it’s okay. Thanks, Sam.”
“My pleasure. I admit I’m a little melancholy that someone finally won your heart.”
“Oh come on. It’s been over a year since we’ve spent time together.”
He giggles, kicking his legs a little. “My charms never fully work on you. I can wrap every woman and man in the world around my little finger, but not you.”
“I’m not entirely immune. At least I wasn’t before I met Lowen.”
“It’s cute. I hope he knows what a catch you are. If I was the settling down type, I’d look for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” I ask, finally pulling into traffic.
“Steady, capable, strong. It doesn’t hurt that you look like sex on a stick.”
Snorting a laugh, I shake my head. “Thanks. To be honest, I was afraid Lowen couldn’t see himself with a regular guy like me, even though he doesn’t come across as stuck up. He has high standards though.”
“And? You’re extremely successful, got your shit together, and you’re nice on top of it all. What kind of standards wouldn’t be met?”
“He runs in high society circles. Well, he used to before coming back to Willow Bay.”
“This Lowen obviously likes you. He asked you to be his date, so that should be enough proof that he doesn’t think he’s better than you.”
“No, I’ve never had that vibe. It’s just leftover bullshit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Years ago, back in my early thirties, I dated a guy who came from good stock, as my mom called it. He even had an uncle who was a senator. His mom won beauty contests back in the day and his dad was this famous neurosurgeon. We dated for almost two years before I realized he was keeping me away from his real life. I never met his friends or was invited to his many family events. He told me it was because he didn’t want to bore me with that life, and I believed him for a while.”
“Uh oh. I sense trouble was brewing?”
I nod, turning onto the freeway. “Yep. One night after he’d been acting weird all day, I tried to look at his socials, but I couldn’t. He’d blocked me. So I used a friend’s phone and I saw that he had plenty of dates for these events. All these posh looking guys who were going to law school or doing their medical residencies. He wasn’t saving me, he was hiding me.”
“Ugh. How shallow. You didn’t deserve that.”
“No, but back then I was just a lowly worker in a big company. I didn’t have anything to offer him other than a good time.”
“And you thought Lowen would be like that?”
“No, but…” I shrug. “I guess it was in the back of my mind. I wondered if maybe that was why he didn’t want to date me, but now I’m pretty sure it’s because of what his ex put him through.”
“Oh. He’s damaged.”
“Rightfully. He married a chronic cheater. They worked together too, so it was a big deal when it all blew up.”
“Sucks.” Sam reaches over and squeezes my hand. “But the good news is, all you have to do is not be a piece of shit and you’re winning.”
I laugh at that. “Good point.”
“Seriously though, he’s feeling some kind of way about you or he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did over me. Maybe he’s confused about his feelings or whatever, but my guess is he at least likes you. Romantically, I mean.”
I wish I could spill all the amazing things about our dynamic. I could talk for days about the way his breath hitches and his eyes heat every time I call him kitten, or how stunning he looked on his knees with my cock in his mouth. I want to talk about how his face lights up when he has a new design idea or that adorable crease in his otherwise perfect brow when he’s deep in thought. But it wouldn’t be right to dump all that on a guy I used to fuck.
“You’re a good friend, Sam. Thanks.”
“You’re a good friend too, and I’m happy to help. Truth be told, I secretly hoped someone would catch you. You’re too good to be on the free market.”
I glance at him, laughing. “Maybe it’s my time.”
“Fingers crossed.”
Fingers and toes. Could I be the man to finally unlock Lowen’s heart? I sure hope so.