Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
H eath’s luxury sun loungers are amazing, set up next to the pool. I’m bathing in the golden sunlight, feeling myself unwind, and I’m realising that I really need this break. But more importantly, so does my boyfriend.
He’s on the lounger next to Heath and the both of them are laughing as they recount the first time Josh showed up at Heath’s and Josh discovered the identity of User 1543. I’ve heard the story before, but it always makes me grin.
Apparently, Josh nearly fainted. For real. He had to brace himself against the wall when Heath opened the door. He describes the shock that came over him, and Heath laughs as he recounts how he stepped forward in horror to take Josh by the arm and bundle him inside – suspecting he might need to be calling paramedics, not getting his ass fucked by a male hooker.
“I spend three hours in makeup to be a convincing vampire on the screen, Josh, and you put the makeup team to shame. You were paler than me in three seconds flat.”
“Yeah, hardly a surprise, was it? I was expecting a horny weirdo inside the Tim Burton style home, no problem. But the lead star of Nighttime Whispers, paying for an ass fuck. Not quite what I’d figured would be happening. Plus, I was a relative newbie. Not primed for the shocks of the unexpected.”
Heath was one of Josh’s first clients.
His favourite clients.
I can’t imagine that will ever change.
“Will you answer a few questions?” Heath asks my stunning shirtless boyfriend. “Since you’re on vacation as well as working, how about letting the guard down a bit? I’m curious.”
“Curious?”
“Yes.” Heath pauses to take a swig of his beer. “Considering how much of an impact running into a TV star on a proposal had for you back then, have you had any similar encounters along the way? Or worse? Have you ever been so bowlegged you collapsed on someone’s porch?”
Josh stares up at the sky through his sunglasses, with a smirk on his face.
“Are you fishing for info, Heath? Celebrities you mean?”
“Celebrities, maybe, yes. You could term it that.”
“Want to know if I’m fucking any of your co-stars? Is that it?”
Josh is brushing it off, but Heath is serious. I watch him watching Josh, his attention unwavering.
“Not my co-stars. Just… people. Others in the limelight.”
Josh beams a cracker of a smile.
“Hell, yeah. My repertoire is a mile long. The list of A-listers on my roster should have me seated at the Brit Awards.”
Heath believes him for a second, I see the way he tenses, and Josh laughs.
“You think I’m serious, don’t you? Wow. I’m flattered.” He pretends to zip his lips up. “I may have come across some celebrities on my roster, literally, but I haven’t entered the realms of a Hollywood playboy yet. And even if I had, I wouldn’t spill. Confidential, remember? Just like I wouldn’t spill to anyone else about you. Not ever.” He tips his head towards me. “I didn’t even tell Ells. And she’s a mega fan.”
“Stop it, Josh,” I say. “Heath has already heard how many times I’ve binge watched the first six series. You don’t need to keep rubbing it in. I was probably paler than you when I first met him.”
My boyfriend props himself up on the lounger and takes off his sunglasses, looking at Heath.
“Wait a second. Is this a tester, more than curiosity? Are you testing me out for confidentiality? Because both Ells and I are fully committed to keeping your identity hidden, Heath. Don’t worry.”
Heath holds his hands up.
“No, no. Not at all. I trust you both for that. I’m just curious. Interested.”
Interested .
I’ve become much better at reading people now that deep rapport has become part of my career, so I hone in on Heath’s smile. His tone. The way his posture shifts.
Hmm.
Interested.
If he’s interested in who else manages to knock Josh off his feet as part of his job, the answer to that is nobody. Not that I know of. Not that I would know of it, to be fair, since Josh is the master of keeping things under wraps.
Which makes me curious myself…
“Do you actually have other celebrities on your client list?” I ask.
“What?”
“I’m curious, too. You’ve been in the business a lot longer than me, do you have a whole list of celebs that fill your calendar, or just Heath?”
“What is this, trading cards?” he asks. “You tell me. Do you have any celebrities on your calendar?”
“No. Not besides Heath.”
Heath holds up his beer. “I am the one and only.”
“Go on,” I say to Josh. “Tell us. You’re only fuelling the curiosity.”
Josh lies back down and folds his arms behind his head.
“Like I said, my lips are sealed. Always.”
“You haven’t had enough beer yet,” Heath laughs. “I’ll ask you again when your lips are looser.”
“You can try.”
“So will I,” I chirp in. “I’ll try, too.”
“Bring it on.” I love Josh’s sharp confidence. “My lips may get loose, but my mouth never spills.”
His respect for his clients’ secrecy is admirable, because I know he won’t be blabbing. No matter how hard we push him.
Since I started at the Agency, I’ve spent a fair amount of time contemplating how complicated things can get when it comes to clients. The commonly known morning after syndrome – where reality becomes blurred and entertainers get caught up in the proposals so bad that they don’t want to leave – is a real thing. It screws some people up, and so do some of the other aspects.
Relationships, with people outside of the business. A lot of people can’t handle being in love with a whore and waving them off to a nighttime gig with a see you later . Hence, a lot of entertainers end up with other entertainers, and even that has its challenges – a lot of which are the same. Jealousy. Fear. Insecurity. Knowing your partner is out fucking other people at the same time you are, or when you’re not. When you’re holed up watching TV in your PJs and they’re getting it on with three people at once.
I’ve thought and talked about the dynamics of being an entertainer ever since I became one, but as for the dynamic for clients. What it means to be a client… the challenges associated with that… I’ve never really given it that much thought.
Now that’s interesting.
Heath has two paid entertainers sharing his private villa right now, one of which he’s known and shared a sex life with for years – albeit a paid one. He adores Josh, that much is clear, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s getting pretty fond of me, too. So, how does that work for him?
He said he missed us. Enough that he was browsing our online profiles and checking out our services . Was he doing that because he was in a drought? Does he fuck us around fucking other people? Does he fuck other people at all? I know he’s not in a relationship, but still. It could still be casual.
Maybe he fucks other whores around our calendar bookings. Maybe he fucks other entertainers. People we know.
The thought of that hits me in the gut, unexpectedly. Bizarre. Because who cares if he does? He could be fucking five other entertainers a week, and why would it matter? Does it matter? It shouldn’t. Not to me.
“What are you thinking, Ells?” Josh asks.
“Sorry, what?”
He mimics the lip thing I do when I’m chewing over thoughts.
“Oh, um. Nothing.”
“Are you running through a list of celebrities in your head now, wondering if I’ve screwed them?”
Both guys are staring at me, and I’m a shit liar. Really shit.
“Damnit, Josh. You’ve got me nailed. I’m going to write a list out later, and quiz you one by one, see if you have any tells I can spot.”
“I’m a poker face expert,” Josh says. “But you’re not.”
“No?”
“No. You’re looking at Heath. It’s him you were thinking about, not me.”
He’s right. I flash my attention back to Josh in a heartbeat, because I didn’t know.
I thought I was developing the ability to read people, but Josh is way up above me, on pretty much everything. I don’t want to get into my thoughts on psychology and relationships or morning after syndrome, or any of it, because I’m good when it comes to client confidentiality, but not when it comes to my own.
I get up from the lounger and take off my sunglasses.
“Actually, if you must know, I was thinking about how great Heath’s pool looks.” I blow him a kiss. “Time for a dip.”
“Copout,” Josh says, but I’m already dashing across the patio, ready to divebomb.
What a beautiful splash, and what a beautiful pool. I do a few lengths, breaststroke, enjoying the ambience, but I can’t get the questions from my mind.
Are we the only people Heath has sex with? Really?
Why do I even hope so?
We’ve spent many evenings with Heath in London, becoming so comfortable in his mini gothic manor, but here in France it already feels different. More at home than his home, if that is even possible.
And this is just the start.
Seven nights in bed together, seven days at his side. Seven days in his life. Around him. Living with him. Loving him .
I’m going to have to be pretty fucking careful, and I know it. Seeing how happy Josh is in his presence only makes the threat more real.
Morning after syndrome might take on a whole new level of serious, and it might be contagious. Taking out Josh as well as me.
I’m staring out over the edge of the infinity pool at the crashing waves on the beach when someone swims up behind me. I have no idea which one of the two guys it is until they appear at my side. Heath. His long, wet hair splaying in the water.
“Josh has gone to grab more beers.”
“Cool.”
“You’re a good swimmer. I enjoyed watching.”
“Bah, sure. I was a crappy swimmer at school, and Dad says I do a poodle paddle.”
“Poodle paddle or not, it was stunning.” Heath’s eyes are the things that are stunning. Icy blue. The way he looks at me as he talks. “Are you finding this strange, Ella, being here? Are you comfortable?”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Comfortable?! I’m ecstatic, honestly. It’s out of this world.”
“Out of the regular world, for sure, which is why I’m checking in on you.” He gazes out at the sea. “It must be different, such a long proposal, with so much history between me and Josh. If that makes you feel strange, or it crosses any lines, please say so. I’ll understand if you want to leave.”
I let out a gentle sigh as I admire the horizon.
“Quite the opposite, actually.” I lean against him. “You should be more worried about us wanting to stay than wanting to leave. You might need to turf us out before we take up residence.”
“Touche.” He wraps a strong arm around me. Heath Mason wrapping an arm around me in his swimming pool. Another round of butterflies. “Good job I have season seven of Nighttime coming up, eh? Otherwise we might all want to take up residence for a while, and not just for the proposals.”
I love the dirty grin he shoots me.
“I’m so looking forward to proposal number one,” he says.
“So am I. When do we get it?”
“Soon, curva. Don’t you worry.”
He swims off when Josh returns with the beers, but I stay awhile, splashing around in the water while they yap away on the sun loungers. I watch their body language. The way they are so at ease. The way they inch closer and closer as they laugh. Heath’s lounger is in danger of tipping, he’s leaning so far over the edge.
It’s not jealousy, or rage, or concern that washes over me when he finally reaches out and pulls my boyfriend towards him. They kiss so naturally that it’s nothing short of beautiful – Josh kissing our client like it’s one of the most regular things in the world. And one of the most wonderful .
I don’t care what proposal number one entails, so long as it entails anything, and real fucking soon.
The guys must be feeling it too, since the moment the kiss is broken Heath raises a hand to beckon me over.
“How about some dinner, Ella?”
“Sure thing. Thanks.”
There are a few things I’d much prefer to be eating, but dinner will have to come first.
I can feel the static in the air amidst the chatter and laughter as the three of us prep a chicken and potato salad together. We eat it on one of the terraces, with the sun on the decline in an awesome sunset. Our beer drinking slows down, but the tension ramps up – the inevitable is hanging between us.
Proposal number one.
That’s what I want for dessert tonight, not the meringue Heath kindly offers to make us.
“Meringue can wait for me, thanks, it’s an envelope I’m after,” Josh says. “Time is ticking, and my balls are tingling.”
“And you, Ella?” Heath asks as he gathers up our plates from the terrace table. “Meringue for you? Or are you too tingly yourself?”
“Far too tingly for meringue, kind sir. Envelopes all the way, please.”
I take our empty beers and Josh takes the bottles of sauces, following Heath back into the villa and through to the kitchen. I load the dishwasher along with Josh as Heath disappears to the bedroom, and my heart catches in my throat when I see the envelope in his hand on his return.
Josh gives me the honours, gesturing that Heath gives it to me for opening, and I flip it over in my hands, my heart racing.
Here it is. The first mystery about to be revealed.
Proposal number one.
I can’t wait to get started.