Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
The gates to the Goodhew Estate swung open silently, granting Leo access to the vast grounds they guarded. He drove onward, making it to the fountain, and cut the engine by the grand steps leading to the front door. Percival opened it a moment later, giving him a shallow nod.
He bounded up the steps and shook the man’s hand. “Good to see you, Percival.”
“And you. Fred is ready for you. He’s in his study. If you’ll follow me.” The older gentleman swept into the big house, which felt cold and empty now that all the guests had gone. They marched down a long hallway and stopped at a closed door.
Percival knocked twice, then opened the door. Once Leo had stepped over the threshold, Percival quietly closed the door behind him.
He was alone with his boss, and he was about to have a very difficult conversation.
For a moment—just a second or two—Leo considered tucking tail and running. Wasn’t that what he’d done all his life? He’d kept things casual with women because he’d been afraid of any kind of intimacy. He’d loved his jet-setting job because it meant he didn’t have to be in one place for any length of time. He’d chased instability, if only to hide his wounds and fears from himself.
Leo gathered himself together and reminded himself why he was here. He was better than that now. He had to act accordingly.
“Sit,” Fred told him genially, gesturing to one of the armchairs opposite his heavy timber desk. The older man leaned back in his chair and braided his fingers together, watching Leo with sharp eyes and an easy smile. “What can I do for you, son?”
Leo sat, tugging his cuffs, adjusting his shirt, wiping his hands on his thighs. Then he forced himself to still. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Of course.”
Fred was a master negotiator who knew when to use silence. He wielded it like a weapon, and Leo felt its bite in the room right now. His boss wouldn’t save him from the awkwardness of this conversation. Leo had to do all that on his own.
“I have to tell you something, Fred,” he started, staring at a photo frame on his boss’s desk. It was a picture of Fred and Nadia on a yacht, smiling as the sun gilded their features. Leo swallowed thickly. “I lied to you.”
Fred’s chair creaked, but the man said nothing.
Leo had to get it out before this got any worse, so he spoke in a rush: “I never had a fiancée. I lied about it from the start, because I didn’t want you to think I was some party animal who couldn’t hold down a relationship. But the truth is, that’s exactly what I was. I wanted you to respect me, and I wanted you to trust me, so I made up the story about being engaged. That day you walked into the bakery and saw me with Amelia was the first day I’d met her. I’m so sorry, Fred. Truly. And in light of everything that happened at the retreat this year, I understand if you need to fire me for my dishonesty.”
The words landed between them like bricks. It took long, long seconds for Leo to gather the courage to lift his gaze to meet Fred’s, and when he did, it did nothing to quell his nerves. Fred’s face was blank and stern. It gave nothing away.
But Leo deserved that, and more. He’d lied to the one man who had shown him real respect, the one man who had given him purpose. He’d taken the lie further than he should have and dragged Amelia down with him. He had savings; he’d be able to find another job. He probably wouldn’t get a letter of recommendation, but maybe he could tap into his network, or go back to college and study something else, or he could?—
“I know, Leo.”
Leo’s whirling thoughts came to an abrupt halt. He blinked at his boss, then frowned. “What?”
“I always knew you were lying about the fiancée. I mean, come on. Kitty Catelli from The Nymphomaniacs? I do have access to Google, you know.”
“But. But, I… You never…” His heart pounded so hard he could hardly breathe. “I didn’t…”
“I was trying to put you on the spot in the bakery, get you to come clean. Then you showed up at the retreat with Amelia, and—well, how did you convince her to go along with it, anyway?”
Leo grimaced. “It was an exchange of favors. She wanted help getting a date with a barista.” He spat the last word like it was made of bile.
Fred let out a long, low chuckle. “Oh, Leo. You done fucked up, son.”
Leo dropped his head in his hands. Humiliatingly, his eyes began to prickle. This job was everything to him, and now it was over. “I can hand over my current projects to Vanessa or one of the other event directors. I always keep notes, so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue to transition. And I understand that you won’t give me a reference, so I won’t ask for one, but?—”
“I’m not firing you, Leo.”
He jerked his head up. “What?”
“Are you quitting?”
Leo blinked, then blinked again. “I… No. No, I’m not quitting.”
“Good. So there will be no talk of handovers and transitions. You have Thelma Vonn’s seventieth party coming up, and she was very insistent about two dozen Chippendale dancers. Last I checked, that hasn’t been confirmed, and we’ll need to lock them in by the end of the month. And Quincy Boorhouse’s kid’s party on the hundred-foot yacht needs another once-over. You’ll need to contact the coast guard to get it all buttoned up before they can do anything.” Fred tapped his computer and frowned at the screen. “I’ve just gotten an inquiry about a vow renewal in Fiji, and with your experience in the South Pacific, I think you should get the project.”
“You’re not firing me?” Leo asked stupidly.
Fred arched a brow. “Do you want me to fire you?”
“No, I just…don’t understand. With Ari and Cora…”
Fred sighed and rubbed his forehead for a moment before answering. “I’ve had a couple of days to think about them, and their betrayals still hurt. They lied to me. They stole from me.” He lifted his gaze to Leo’s. “You didn’t. You just acted like an idiot who forgot the internet exists, and that fact-checking isn’t that hard when you’re talking about public figures like lead singers in a fake band.”
Leo’s neck grew hot. He snorted, embarrassed. “Were you just waiting for me to come clean this whole time?”
“I knew it’d happen eventually. You’ve got too much integrity to live with something like that,” Fred said casually, like that simple line didn’t shoot a spear through Leo’s chest. Fred flicked his hands. “Now go. You’ve got work to do.”
Leo stood, then extended his palm. “Thank you, Fred.”
The other man stood and shook Leo’s hand across the desk. His grip was firm and sure, and Leo felt his heart settle. He still had a job. He still had this man’s respect. It didn’t fix everything, but at least his life wasn’t in complete shambles.
“Say hi to Amelia for me,” Fred said as he took a seat again, his eyes back on his computer.
Leo walked to the doorway and paused. “We’re not in touch anymore,” he admitted. “I think I messed that up worse than I did this.”
Fred lifted his gaze and watched Leo for a beat. “I wouldn’t be so sure, son,” he answered quietly.
The words rang in Leo’s head all the way back to his car, and during the entire car ride back to Stirling. By the time he was back at his grandparents’ place—at Marlon’s place—Fred’s words had settled somewhere deep in Leo’s heart.
And he made a decision.