Chapter 8
eight
. . .
Fury was too light a word to describe how Desmond felt about Matthew’s interruption.
He’d already been having a stressful day as he worked with Marcus Abara, one of the senior partners at Pickering Jones, on a client acquisition they were competing for with one of their biggest competitors, Goulding McTavish.
Javier calling him out of the blue to ask if he wanted to go to lunch was a gift to his overstressed nervous system that he wasn’t about to turn down.
He desperately needed the escape from his real life.
Lunch had been perfect. It pained Desmond’s soul to know that Javier was struggling with his business.
He gathered there was far more that had been left unspoken than the bits and pieces Javier let slip out.
He wanted to help in every way he could, especially if it meant he could spend time with the charming and sexy man.
And then Matthew had arrived on the scene like a squawking seagull intent on divebombing his plate to steal his sandwich, and ruined the whole thing.
“You cannot keep doing this,” Desmond hissed as he goosestepped his ex away from his next. Well, his next if he had anything to do about it.
“I want answers,” Matthew snapped in return. “Are the two of you really together? He’s a liar. I know he was lying about the two of you at the concert the other night.”
“Keep your voice down and stop acting like a jealous teenager.” Desmond searched the crowded area for some empty corner where he could give Matthew the piece of his mind that the man deserved.
The best he could come up with was to march him over to the far side of one of the long water features stretching through the open area.
“Where is my money?” Matthew demanded once the two were reasonably isolated, spinning to glare at him. “It should have been in my account by Monday. It’s now Friday, and nothing is there.”
Desmond huffed a sigh, closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw for a moment. When he felt confident enough, he opened his eyes and stared hard at Matthew. “I’ve stopped all deposits,” he said.
“How dare you?” Matthew feigned offence, but Desmond had known him long enough to see the fear behind that fake expression. “We had an agreement, Des. And you know all the reasons why we have that agreement.”
Heat flushed through Desmond, centering on his face.
He glanced away momentarily, fighting off the shame and the nausea of everything Matthew meant by those words.
It would have been so easy to slump back into the trapped feeling Matthew and everything he knew always gave him, but a miniscule glimpse of Javier’s back as he headed into the shopping center where the DLR station was located inspired him with confidence instead.
He wanted the chance to have some sort of future with Javier, but he would never have that if he let Matthew continue to drag him constantly into a past he would rather forget.
“Our agreement was a mistake,” he said, forcing himself to stand firmly with shoulders squared, as if he were conducting a business meeting with a high-level client. “You are a grown man who has evidently found another job and who is more than old enough to take care of himself.”
“That’s not part of our deal.” Matthew shifted restlessly, looking around them as if someone was coming after him.
“You managed to ensnare me to finance the lifestyle you think you’re entitled to, and God knows you have no trouble at all attracting other men.
Why don’t you find someone else to bankroll your life?
” Desmond didn’t actually wish that nightmare on anyone, but he was more motivated than ever to get rid of Matthew for good.
“You think it’s that easy to find…someone?” Matthew demanded. Desmond was certain he’d almost said something else along the lines of a sugar daddy.
“For you? Yes,” he answered with a nod. “Have some self-respect, man. There is no dignity in constantly hounding an ex who doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.”
He sounded like his great-uncle Roger, which made him wince, but those things needed to be said.
Matthew gulped for breath like he was running out of arguments, then leaned in close to Desmond. “I have to pay the bills somehow,” he said, a fiery sort of desperation in his eyes. “What better way to do it than to dangle two truths and a lie over your head?”
Desmond swallowed hard. “What lie?”
Matthew smirked. “Don’t you want to know about the truths first?” When Desmond only stared at him without replying, he said. “Truth. Insider trading is illegal, and so is passing along tips that enable illegal transactions.”
Desmond took a half step back, but Matthew pursued him.
“Truth. Fucking a senior partner at a competing firm is unethical,” Matthew went on. “Especially when it’s a kinky little threesome.”
Desmond suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Lie,” Matthew persisted. “It’s what you do on a daily basis when you walk into that office and go about your business with the lads in the corner offices as if you’re as pure as the driven snow and have never set a foot wrong in your life.”
“I’ve never lied to anyone,” Desmond said in an effort to stand his ground, though he didn’t know how true that was. “You’re the one who is being sued for embezzlement by Pickering Jones.”
“Yes, and I’d be grateful if you’d make that lawsuit go away, sweetheart,” Matthew said, reaching for Desmond’s face.
Desmond flinched to avoid his touch. “I knew you were unscrupulous, but I didn’t think you were mad,” he said. “And I will not be intimidated. Not anymore.”
Matthew’s smug look faltered. That and the voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Javier encouraging him pushed him forward.
“Grow up, Matthew. People break up all the time. Stop acting like a petulant adolescent. Most everyone else can handle a split without turning into a cartoon villain. Put yourself together and move on with your life. I certainly have.”
It was the only thing he had to say to the snake, so he turned and walked off.
“You can’t do this to me, Des,” Matthew called after him. “You don’t understand what’s at stake. I have bills to pay!”
Desmond ignored him, pulling out his phone to type a message to Javier.
No doubt Matthew had landed himself in some sort of dangerous debt situation.
The man always had been horrible with money, which was ironic, considering he worked in finance.
Desmond hadn’t been lying when he’d said Matthew could find himself another rich lover to pay for everything.
“Desmond!” Matthew shouted behind him.
If Des had been a different man, he would have made a rude gesture over his shoulder without looking back at the bastard. He could imagine Javier doing something like that.
With a smile, he sent the message, “It’s taken care of. Do you want to come over for supper tonight?”
His heart lifted when three dots appeared almost at once, followed by “Of course.”
Hope. It was an emotion Desmond had almost forgotten existed. After five years of being ground down by Matthew, he actually had hope that brighter days were ahead and he might have someone to spend them with.
“Come over around half six,” he typed in reply.
Seconds later, Javier sent him a kissy face emoji.
Not five minutes ago, Desmond had accused Matthew of acting like a teenager, and here he was, glowing like he had his first crush.
He laughed at himself as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.
As he approached his building, he cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and stepped back into his lofty businessman persona.
That persona didn’t feel half as comfortable or satisfying as it had just one week before.
The rest of the day dragged far more than Desmond would have liked.
He couldn’t keep his mind on the reports he needed to read over and approve, and his attention span for yet another meeting with Marcus and a few other senior partners was pathetic.
His thoughts volleyed back and forth between dread over what Matthew might do next and joy as he inventoried the contents of his refrigerator in his mind, planning what to make for Javier for supper that evening.
“It’s not that I’m trying to impress the man or court him,” he told the row of succulents on the sill of the window behind his kitchen sink that looked into the sunroom once he was finally home. “I just like him.”
It was ridiculous for him to talk to his plants as he rinsed out a baking dish, still dressed in elements of his work suit with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up above his elbows, a flowery apron covering it all, and it was even more absurd for him to imagine the row of squat succulents staring flatly at him in return.
“What?” he demanded, as if they had called him out. “I can cook for a friend, can’t I?”
The largest of his hens and chicks seemed to cluck at him.
He grinned back at it.
“Alright,” he admitted, blushing. “I like him. I haven’t felt like this about anyone in ages.”
The bunny ear cactus seemed to giggle in an echo of the feelings bubbling within him.
Those feelings were so big that when the doorbell sounded a few seconds later, Desmond nearly jumped out of his skin. He put the wet baking dish aside and turned to practically run for the door, flushed with expectant warmth.
He could tell from the outline in the frosted glass that Javier had arrived even before he threw open the door to see the gorgeous, exhausted man waiting on his doorstep with a bottle of wine in one hand.
“I hope you like—” Javier held up the bottle, but stopped as his eyes swept over Desmond’s apron and rolled-up sleeves.
“Yes, I like,” Desmond said, bursting into a smile. He wanted to grab Javier by his tie and yank him into the house.
“Wow.” Javier stepped over the threshold, backing Desmond up a few steps. He shut the door behind him without looking at it. His eyes were trained on Desmond, drinking him in. “That apron.”