Chapter 1 #2
“Oh, great.” Nikky was genuinely glad his time in London would overlap with Drew’s and Lee’s.
The two of them were trying to live their lives on both sides of the ocean, depending on the roles Drew booked, and since Nikky was usually based in L.A.
, they’d been missing each other as often as not lately.
“I’ll give you a call when I know more,” Drew said. He laughed, then went on with, “I’ll probably give you a call anyhow when I’m bored on set just to live vicariously through your rock star ambitions.”
“I don’t want to be a rock star,” Nikky laughed uneasily. “I don’t want to be a star at all. I just want to make music that people listen to and do some acting now and then.”
Drew laughed like Nikky had been kidding.
He absolutely wasn’t kidding.
“We’re here, Mr. Smith,” the driver informed him as he pulled to the curb in front of a huge, glass and chrome office building in the heart of The City.
“I’ve got to go,” Nikky told Drew, wishing he could stay on the phone with his anchor a little longer.
“Okay. Take care. Love you,” Drew said before ending the call.
Nikky took a deep breath and stared at his phone for a second before shifting to get out of the car.
There’d been a time during the filming of Cooked, when he and Drew were in the first glow of discovering how much they liked each other and got along, when Nikky would have totally tried for something romantic between the two of them.
He’d always suspected Drew was more fluid than he’d thought he was back then.
Drew had still been sort of dating Jessica at the time, though, and Nikky was not a homewrecker.
In the end, they were exactly what each other needed as best friends. Drew and Lee were perfect together. And everything Nikky was about to do wouldn’t have been possible if he and Drew had gotten involved romantically.
Nikky paid the driver, giving him an extra tip, even though in the back of his mind he knew that wasn’t what people did in England, and got out of the car. He looked up at the giant office building for a second before taking a deep breath and going inside.
A few people glanced his way as he strode into the building, but one of the tricks he’d learned as an actor was to deflect attention away from himself by not looking famous.
He dressed down when he was out and about and held his face differently, the way he would for a part.
As a result, even if people glanced his way, their attention didn’t stay on him for long.
He’d done the same thing during his time in foster care before he’d ended up with the Garfields as well.
Fortunately, the offices of Rent-A-Boyfriend were on the ground floor of the office building, only a few yards from the entrance. It was a relief to open that door and move from the relative buzz of the foyer and the food court into the calm and quiet of the agency.
“Can I help—oh!” The young and attractive man behind the reception desk perked up as soon as he saw Nikky. “Mr. Smith, you’re back,” he went on with a smile, standing and walking around the desk to shake Nikky’s hand. “It’s great to see you again. Mr. White and Mr. Rivera are expecting you.”
Nikky smiled tightly as he shook the man’s hand. “Hi, Michael. Good to see you again, too.”
“I wish we had time to chat about Cooked,” Michael went on as he gestured for Nikky to follow him. “Your scene in the bar made me cry buckets. I would die happy if I had a chance to ask you all about filming it. You were…wow!”
Nikky’s smile turned genuine. It was always a relief to be complimented for his acting instead of his ass. “Thanks so much. Maybe we can chat at some point.”
“God, yes! But Javier and Desmond are waiting for you, so off we go.”
A whole new blast of nerves hit Nikky as he followed Michael down the short hall to what looked like a series of offices or meeting rooms. He’d thought everything had been sorted last time he was in London.
He hadn’t expected to be called into the office again.
He half expected to be taken to a generic room and asked to wait there, like he’d done too many times in his childhood.
Michael took him straight up to the door of a beautifully decorated office, knocked on the open doorframe, then whisked Nikky straight into the space where the two owners of the company sat at desks facing each other in the center of the room.
“Mr. Smith is here,” Michael announced casually, like they were all friends instead of employers and employee.
The two men seated at the desks glanced up in unison and broke into matching smiles. It would have been comical if Nikky wasn’t so nervous. Both of the men were stunning, though very different in looks and in the way they moved as they stood and came over to greet him.
“Mr. Smith,” the taller of the two, Javier Rivera, said, extending a hand. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again.” He had dark hair and olive skin that hinted at his Spanish heritage. He also wore just a touch of expertly applied makeup that made his model good looks even more pronounced.
“Welcome back to Rent-A-Boyfriend,” Desmond White offered his hand after Mr. Rivera had let go of Nikky’s.
“We’re grateful that you were able to take time out of your busy schedule to meet with us in person.
” Mr. White had a distinctly British look with dark, subtly wavy hair, pale skin, and a more formal way of holding his body.
“It’s not a problem,” Nikky said, shaking his hand, nerves racing like an army of hamsters running in wheels in his gut. “I mean, I hope there isn’t a problem.”
White and Rivera glanced at each other, and Nikky instantly knew he was in trouble.
He would have panicked if Rivera hadn’t gestured to the arrangement of chairs in one corner of the room and said, “Let’s have a seat,” in a kind and welcoming voice.
It didn’t matter how nice Rivera and White were as they all took their seats like a group of friends about to have tea, Nikky felt a sense of impending doom. “I haven’t done something wrong, have I?” he asked, falling back on old fears.
“No, not at all,” White said.