Chapter 15
Circus
Maybe I should be mad about what went down at Leita’s house, but any chance to make a homophobe look stupid is a fun time in my books.
It just sucks that Rowan couldn’t join in. He didn’t come for drinks on Sunday night either.
That visit, more than anything, reminded me that Rowan isn’t in a place to start being open, but I really want to help him try.
Call it charity, call it human interest …
The truth is, I want to see him naked again.
I shift uncomfortably as a niggling little voice tells me that’s not all it is.
Seeing him naked? Hell yes. But … I can only imagine what it would be like to have to hide a massive part of myself, and it makes me sad.
Having to deal with all that on your own would be lonely and isolating, and … maybe I still care about him. A little.
I know all the reasons I shouldn’t, but logic and emotion are refusing to mix.
Not to mention, with every day I get closer to my parents’ anniversary, I’m starting to get more careless. In order to not feel how much I miss them, to not remind myself that this time five years ago they were helping me get through a broken nose, I shut it all down.
And I start to avoid Rowan too.
Because like it or not, he plays into a big part of their memory.
Besides, over the last few weeks, we’ve taken enough photos together to last me a while. I post a few times a day. Some with him and some without, and I haven’t had to delete a photo in ages.
Progress.
Yet hanging over my head is the reminder we can’t do this forever. The other couples are successful because they both post about each other. Sappy sweet stuff, sexy stuff, stuff that sells their love story and has people coming back for more.
At the moment, the mystery is all part of the fun. But there’s an expiration date on people’s patience, and if we “break up” without revealing who he is … what happens to me then? I was successful in my own right, but it’s never been anything like this.
And there’s still something about our photos that doesn’t ring all the way true. No one else has picked up on it, but even though they’re affectionate, they’re missing that extra level.
I jump as my phone starts to vibrate in my hand and my manager’s name appears on the screen.
“Good morning,” he says in his sunny LA accent.
“This is early.”
“I saw you post, so I knew you were awake. The boyfriend there?”
“Nope.” I laugh. “You know the friend doesn’t stay over.”
“As long as no one else knows, we’re doing okay.”
I hum. Are we though? I’d be doing even better if I’d woken up next to him this morning. But I remind myself that’s not going to happen.
Ever.
“Are you calling for a reason? Or just to check up on me?”
“Can’t it be both?”
“Well, we’ve done the second one, let’s move on to the point.”
He chuckles, drawing out the suspense, which catches my interest. He normally launches straight into it, so this delay …
“It’s big, isn’t it?”
“I may have had an interesting conversation this morning. For a fall/winter collection.”
“With …”
“Gucci Men.”
I shoot to my feet. “There’s no way.”
“Then why am I looking at a proposed contract right now?”
“Have they seen my photos?” I start to laugh. “I’m not exactly high fashion.”
“No, what you are is an insanely attractive man who has gained a lot of clout in a very short amount of time. They want to capitalize on that. They want their brand to appeal to the next generation of men who are making a lot of money and choosing to spend none of it on clothes.”
“People like that exist?”
“Have you met you?”
Shit. I pace to my window and look out at the valley. This is big. A Gucci campaign will gain a lot of social media attention, but there’s also the old-school marketing as well. Billboards, buses and taxis, magazines.
It’ll expand my reach way further than anything I’d ever accomplish on my own.
“What are the terms?”
He sighs. “Well, they originally asked for both of you, but I told them it wouldn’t be possible, so we’re currently renegotiating.
They’ll have to bring another model in for you to pose with, so you better make sure your guy is fine with that and that your followers know in advance.
It’s Gucci, so it’s going to be high-end and a little sexy, but I’ve made it clear that there can’t be any hints of anything romantic between you and whoever they choose. It’s business only.”
“Okay …” I clear my throat. “But, if I could get both of us, they’d be interested?”
“They would, but they’ve made it clear there won’t be any hiding his face.”
“Not even a bit?”
“No. That was nonnegotiable. They’ve already got the shots they’re using planned out, and they’ll need you in LA for them.”
Of course they do. They didn’t get to be one of the biggest brands in the world by marketing on the fly.
“Should I ask him anyway?”
“There’s no point now. They’re already in the process of writing him out of the contract and looking for another model. How haven’t you said yes yet? This is the biggest offer of your career so far.”
That’s the golden question, isn’t it? Why haven’t I said yes yet? A month ago, I would have been booking my flight already. “Send over the contract, and I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“Circus—”
“That’s my answer.”
Preston doesn’t say anything, but I can tell he’s pissed. So I adopt the most bored tone I can manage because I know how it drives him crazy. “Anything else?”
“Eight a.m. That’s as long as I’ll give you.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.”
I hang up before he can push.
This could actually be the answer to how I maintain a brand without Rowan involved. If I do this, it’ll lead to more followers, more interactions, which will lead to more opportunities.
Rowan and I could go our separate ways, and it wouldn’t impact on me too badly.
But … I want to do this with him. I want us to go to Los Angeles and get lost in a world of hair and makeup and bright lights and people barking directions.
It’ll be stressful and exhilarating, but will it be worth it if he’s not there?
What am I doing?
Am I actually sitting here trying to justify talking myself out of an opportunity I’ve been working toward for years, just because some old flame is—barely—back in the picture?
Some old flame who abandoned me?
I try to draw up some of the old anger but come up empty.
Five years of holding on to the bitterness, and when I need it, it’s nowhere to be found.
I guess Mom was right.
Once you forgive someone, you don’t get to use it anymore.
So I do what I always do. I go to my bedroom, grab the 8-Ball, and let it make the choice for me.
“Should I ask Rowan?”
Without a doubt.
Looks like we’re on the same page, then.
My determination to avoid him is forgotten as I get changed, grab my bike, and head into town. I probably could have called, but now I’ve thought about seeing him, I’m desperate to.
Who says people grow up?
Lucky for me, his car is in the diner parking lot, so he’s clearly on the early shift. Piper is behind the counter when I walk in, so I assume Rowan must be out back.
“Well, this is a surprise,” she says with a wide smile. “I swear I’ve never seen you in here so much in my life.”
“Eh. You never had anything I wanted before. He through here?” I point to the door to the kitchen.
Piper eyes me for a moment. “We’re starting our breakfast rush though, so if you go back there, you’ll be helping.”
As if I wasn’t going to anyway.
I push through the door, and my smile is automatic when I see him leaning over the grill. He doesn’t look up, so I go over to where the aprons are hanging on the wall and grab one.
“This a good look on me?”
Rowan jumps and almost drops his spatula on the hot surface. Oops. Probably shouldn’t surprise a man while he’s cooking. When he looks up, his smile is as automatic as mine was. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s been a few days.” Almost a week actually. “I wanted to stop by.”
Yikes. And that’s where I stop talking.
“You’re out of photos, aren’t you?”
“This is the first order?” I ask, pointing to a receipt above the salad table.
“Yes …”
I can feel his eyes on me as I grab a bun, break it in half, and slide it into the toaster.
“Press the green button,” he says. “It’s a timer.”
I do, then finally turn to face him. “So I got an offer this morning.”
“Oh yeah?” He scoops a fatty hunk of meat off the grill and onto a plate, next to a pile of scrambled eggs, then passes it through the return to Piper.
We’re not exactly private here, so I’ll have to watch my words.
“It was for a big brand. The shoot’s in LA, and I can only imagine the kind of attention it’ll bring me.”
“That’s awesome.” He looks sincere. “Congratulations.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I turn my attention back to the burger bun as the timer sounds and check the receipt again. Relish, cheese, and onion. Rowan throws some eggs and bacon on the grill to finish it up.
“That’s good, right?” he probes.
“Yes … but I want to do it with you.”
He almost drops the spatula again.
I laugh and grab his arm, pulling him away. “They asked for both of us. The shoot will be super high-end and tasteful, but there’ll definitely be a sexual element involved. So I totally get it if you’re not interested.”
“Circus …”
I consider telling him that they only want both of us.
That without him, I can’t do it. Because I know how good he’ll be, but I also can’t put that kind of pressure on him.
“Look, just think about it today. No one around here pays attention to brand names, but the shots will be in magazines and online, so there’s a higher chance someone will see them.
That said, it’s just modeling. It means nothing.
And it’s a lot of money.” I glance around the kitchen.
“That fifty K is small-fry compared to what they’re offering.
Two hundred K. You could get out of here, do whatever the hell you want. ”
Rowan catches me completely by surprise when he steps forward and covers my mouth with his hand. There’s a tiny smile on his lips as he looks down at me, and I swear my heart kicks up a notch. “You want me to do it though?”
I nod.
He takes a minute to study me. “Let me think about it. And in the meantime …” He waves a hand to the receipts. “Your orders are banking up.”
I laugh. “Oh no, I was just helping until the conversation was over. Which it is now, so …”
“I’m thinking about helping you with your career, you can help out here in return. And who knows, maybe if you’re really good at it, I might even say yes.”
I hold back my groan in favor of a smile and grab the next receipt. “One fried embryo and some pig flesh thanks.”
He laughs. “I don’t think breakfast has ever sounded so classy.”