Chapter Two
Wes
Ahh, springtime in New York City. Wes loved
it. He sat at a small table on the outdoor patio adjacent to his
Park Avenue hotel, the wind ruffling his hair as he quietly sipped
his second morning latte.
Locals and tourists were out and about,
soaking up the May sunshine that had been absent over the long,
bitter winter. Honking cars, rumbling motors, and crowds of people
shuffling down the street all culminated in the energetic vibration
that was New York City. Yup, the pulse of the city Wes loved,
second only to his hometown of Toronto, was jumping today.
Wrapped in his navy Burberry trench coat, he
took a moment to enjoy his break and people-watch before the busy
day ahead. His phone buzzed with repeated notifications, jarring
his cup and utensils on the table. Reluctantly, he glanced down at
it. One missed call: Mac Duran.
While Wes was pleased at what he’d
accomplished with his writing career to this point, including the
attention of many fans who enjoyed his books, he’d started to feel
more and more dissatisfied. Self-help books made him a household
name, but he hardly ever had a moment to himself anymore. A big
part of his job was endless media junkets and talking so much that
names and faces and cities started to blur. He used to love the
travel and attention, but not recently. Lately he found himself
repeating the same conversations with different people, only
touching the surface of things. No spark, no debate. He hadn’t
experienced a meaningful connection in a very long time. Writing
still gave him some enjoyment, but it took more and more effort to
focus on that, too, which worried him most of all.
When Mac Duran had called two weeks ago and
suggested a meeting here in New York City to discuss a book series
with R.D. Smith, Wes immediately said yes. The timing was perfect
since Wes was in town for the start of his cross-country book tour.
And while he was familiar with R.D.’s work, he didn’t know anything
about the author. For the first time in a long time, Wes was
excited and motivated.
It’s been five years since you wrote a
mystery novel. Maybe you don’t have it in you anymore. Would he
be able to get back in the groove, just like that? He still wasn’t
sure. But Mac’s phone call was a gift Wes wouldn’t refuse, and he
was hopeful that working with another author would help get him
back to the writing he once loved. The only thing he loved.
At thirty-six, Wes lived alone. Just the way
he liked it. His last relationship with Kieran—if he could call it
a relationship—had lasted only a couple of months. This was back
when he was thirty-three and riding high on his newfound self-help
success. Kieran had shown his true nature by trying to sell Wes’s
private details to the tabloids, and that was the end of things.
Wes went back to casual fucks. No personal revelations required, no
hurt feelings, no feelings period. Attraction, action, out the
bathroom or hotel door, the end. Next. No way was he going to be
that vulnerable ever again. People only wanted the successful
persona anyway and became infatuated with the celebrity lifestyle.
They didn’t care about him personally, his dreams, his fears. No,
anything deep and meaningful, he experienced through his writing,
and that alone sustained him. Or at least, it used to.
His inner musings were interrupted by an
incoming call from Luca. He’d been Wes’s loyal assistant for the
past eight years and was one of the few people Wes considered a
close friend.
Trustworthy, kind, and terrifyingly
organized, Luca Santino had a bold personality and a personal style
to match. Luca had a quick answer for everything and wasn’t afraid
to give Wes his honest, if somewhat saucy, opinion. Wes was pretty
laid back about most things in life—why stress when it solved
nothing? Luca, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on chaos and
took great pride in tackling the most challenging situations. Luca
had recently launched his event-planning business on the side, and
Wes knew that it was only a matter of time before he left his
employ for good.
“Good morning, Luca. Yes, I arrived safely
in the Big Apple, just like I texted you last night, and yes, I am
on my way to meet Mac shortly,” he said while continuing to sip his
coffee.
“I know that, Wesley. I have a tracker on
your phone.” Luca chuckled. “Kidding! Anyhoo, I was calling to
remind you that Greyson flew down this morning and will meet you at
Mac’s office at eleven AM. He also changed his mind and will
accompany you to the dinner party at eight PM tomorrow.” Luca
paused, and Wes could hear typing, as well as what sounded like
Luca’s favorite singer, Adele, in the background. “Your interview
tomorrow over the lunch hour at Storico has been moved from one to
one thirty PM, and a different reporter will attend. I’ve forwarded
her bio to you and Greyson.”
Greyson Ineja was Wes’s PR rep and oldest
friend. Grey built and ran a successful national public relations
business based in Toronto. Most of the day-to-day client dealings
were taken care of by his staff, but Grey still handled a few high
profile clients like Wes as a personal favor. Grey kept himself
occupied with work twenty-four seven since his wife, Andrea, passed
away over a year ago in a car accident. Wes had encouraged Grey to
take time off, but he refused. Wes often wondered if Grey’s
marriage had been worth the pain he now saw in his friend’s eyes.
Grey had assured Wes that one day he would understand. Wes still
wasn’t convinced.
“Grey texted me a few minutes ago. Thanks
for the updated reporter bio. Anything else I need to know? Have
you reorganized my closet again? My kitchen? Don’t forget, the
bedroom is a no-go zone after last time.” Wes laughed. Luca openly
acknowledged his hyper-organized tendencies, but after Wes had
discovered his bedroom drawer of sex supplies and toys neatly
labeled and arranged, the nightstand was deemed off limits.
“You laugh, but I’m sure you appreciate
finding what you need quickly when the mood strikes. Anyway,
getting back to actual work, I also confirmed the timing for your
appearance on Weekend New York on Sunday. Oh, and I packed
you lots of condoms and lube. Play safe.” Luca snorted and hung
up.
Wes chuckled and glanced around at the other
tables, taking note of various couples and singles chatting away,
listening to music, or working. He signaled the waiter for his
bill, and once he was all settled up, he grabbed his phone and
laptop. He decided to walk to Mac’s office, given the mild
weather.
As he rose to his full six-foot-one height,
his eyes caught on a handsome brunet man in a navy striped suit at
the far end of the patio. The man smiled at Wes, staring for a very
long time. Then the man gestured at him to come over. As Wes
approached, the man stood up and nodded, the lust evident in his
big brown eyes.
“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting
there by yourself. You’re much too handsome to be without company.
Would you like to join me? I’m Duncan,” the man murmured, smiling
flirtatiously and placing his hand on Wes’s arm. His warm eyes and
wide smile were definitely appealing, but Wes just wasn’t in the
mood for a hook-up, nor did he have time today.
“You’re too kind, Duncan, but unfortunately,
I have a busy day ahead,” he replied with his practiced grin.
“Enjoy the sunshine.”
And with that, Wes went on his way. He could
feel the man staring at his back, or more likely his ass, and for a
moment, he thought about returning to get his number. He let that
idea drift away. Maybe tomorrow night, after the dinner party, he
could find a club and a sexy man to spend a few pleasurable hours
with. He’d get rid of his stress and clear his head for the
upcoming week.
Right now, he needed to focus on work and
get his in-demand ass moving. Walking briskly, he was thankful that
his morning runs had paid off. He arrived on time without breaking
much of a sweat.
Entering the art deco building on Fifth
Avenue, he couldn’t help but appreciate the large windows and
stark, geometric design. He looked around the lobby and spotted
Grey sitting in a black leather chair, checking his phone with one
hand and running the other through his curly chestnut hair, which
now had quite a few grey strands. Wes teased Grey that he was
finally starting to live up to his namesake. He also noticed the
lines of tension around Grey’s mouth and the prominent cheekbones
that seemed sharper than ever. He reminded himself to be extra
attentive to his friend and ensure Grey enjoyed himself while on
this business trip.
“Hey, lazy ass, ready to get this week
underway?” Wes yelled out as he approached with a wave. He noted
Grey’s half smile, and when his friend came over, Wes leaned down
and gave him a hug. Grey was a few inches shorter than Wes, with a
slimmer build that was bordering on skinny lately. Grey lingered in
the hug, and Wes gave one final squeeze to comfort his friend
before he let go.
“I’ve never been lazy a day in my life, you
fucker!” Grey said jokingly as he smacked Wes’s shoulder. “I have a
good feeling about this meeting, Wes. I’m excited to see what Mac
has to say.” They walked together to the elevator in the center of
the lobby. “What about the rest of the week? Any concerns about
your public appearances? The interview tomorrow or the show
Sunday?” That was Grey, right back to business. He was a
problem-solver by nature: calm, cool, and way too collected.
Wes smiled at his friend and shook his head.
“Everything will be fine, Grey. My only concern is this potential
book deal. It’s an intriguing carrot that Mac’s dangling under my
nose, and I’m ready to bite.”
The elevator pinged loudly when they arrived
at the twenty-fifth floor, and they entered a sleek office with a
wall of posters that Wes recognized as best-selling book covers.