Chapter 7 #2
“I do share your ideals, Javier,” Brent said sadly, “I’m just not certain they’re feasible in a world where things have to move fast and where millions of dollars are on the line.”
“Is this about Olivia?” Maisy interrupted. “Because she didn’t like the clothing she was being asked to model?”
“It was a swimsuit shoot,” Brent explained as Javier’s stomach rolled. “There was always going to be skin exposure.”
“Was she comfortable?” Javier asked, wanting to defend his talent, even though he knew Olivia could be a pill about certain things.
“Arthur did his best to accommodate her,” Brent said, “but frankly, some of the clauses you have worked into your contracts aren’t enforceable.
It wastes time if my directors are constantly working to make sure your talent feels secure in a business where the clock is ticking and everyone is always uncomfortable. ”
Javier’s eyes went wide at that statement.
But that was the crux of the problem he’d been fighting so hard to solve with his agency.
Models were people, and people needed to feel safe to give their best. He could recall a dozen times in his own past where the director of the shoot or runway he’d walked had made the models feel like meat to be exposed and eaten.
He didn’t like it for himself, and he didn’t want it for the talent working for him.
Which meant his partnership with Westferry Media Group was more or less over.
“It looks like we do have a mismatch of values,” he said, fighting to keep a calm, professional demeanor. The bridge was crossed, but it wouldn’t help anyone to burn it down behind him.
“I’m glad you understand,” Brent said. “Let’s talk about how we can untangle ourselves legally. And who knows? Maybe we can sign you personally for some jobs. People in this industry still want to see your pretty face, you know.”
Javier fought not to wince. Yes, he knew. They wanted to look at him, not to take him seriously. Story of his life.
Half an hour later, Javier and Maisy were back out on the street as the office buildings around them started to empty for lunch, and Javier’s heart was in his feet.
“Well,” Maisy sighed, throwing up her arms in a hopeless gesture, “what do you want to do now, boss?”
If he was honest, Javier wanted to sprint for the river and throw himself in.
He wanted to shake his fist at the sky and demand answers to why the world had to be so cold and calculating.
He wanted to sit down where he was, bury his face in his hands, and mourn what was beginning to feel like the passing of his dream.
“Honestly,” he said, looking around hopelessly, “I want to call Desmond and see if he’s free for lunch.”
“Ooh!” Maisy brightened as if a bit of romance was more important than the downfall of a dream. “Don’t let me stop you. I can find my way back to the office on my own. I can think of some leads to follow up on to replace Westferry in our client list.”
It was a tiny spark of hope, but not much. “I would be happy with whatever new partners you can find,” he said, reaching into his coat for his phone.
“Don’t you worry, boss,” Maisy said, stepping over and lifting to her toes to kiss Javier’s cheek.
“I’ll dig us out of this hole. You go have a good lunch with your man.
” She stepped back and turned to walk on, but glanced back over her shoulder.
“But don’t discount the idea of asking your new man for money either. ”
Javier frowned. He didn’t want that to be the last sight of him that Maisy had as she walked away, but he couldn’t help it.
He would not ask Desmond for money any more than he would go back to letting people ogle him and assume he was an airhead for a living.
As he typed in a text letting Desmond know he was nearby and free for lunch, he was tempted to add that he would pay just so Desmond wouldn’t accidentally infer he wanted anything more than a shoulder to cry on.
Blessedly, only seconds after Javier sent his message, Desmond replied saying he would absolutely meet Javier for lunch.
Ten minutes later, Javier nearly wept at the beautiful, professional sight of Desmond walking toward him near the entrance to Cabot Place.
“Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes,” Javier greeted him with a smile.
There was a split second of hesitation as the two of them came face to face.
All week, they’d pretended that they were a long-term couple.
Physical affection had happened as a matter of course.
The touches and kisses that had peppered their weekend had been second nature.
But now, they stood in the cold, damp, February air, dressed in suits and coifed for work, not quite knowing how they should be with each other.
“Is everything alright?” Desmond asked with stuffy formality that matched the way he’d been in his office pre-Valentine’s Day. When he’d fired his assistant and nearly made the man cry.
For half a heartbeat, Javier wondered if everything they’d shared behind the cozy, closed doors of Desmond’s house had been real.
Another heartbeat later, he didn’t care. He stepped forward, drawing Desmond into his arms and hugging him with a groan that came from the depths of his soul.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing in the scent of his weekend lover.
“It’s been five days,” Desmond laughed breathlessly, then stepped back. “You can’t have missed me that much.”
“Oh, but I have,” Javier said, feeling a million times better. “Which one of these cafés or restaurants is your favorite?”
“They’re all pretty good,” Desmond said, studying Javier carefully for a moment.
“Pick one,” Javier said, falling into step beside his man.
He really did feel better just being in Desmond’s presence.
Desmond mentioned what he liked about a few of the restaurants they could see, then they picked one and headed toward it.
Everything was crowded at that time of day, but Javier didn’t care.
Brent might have wanted to “untangle”, but with Desmond sitting across a tiny café table from him, eating a sandwich and ending up with a dollop of mayonnaise on the corner of his mouth, all was right with the world.
“What brings you all the way out here today?” Desmond asked as they ate. “It’s a bit out of your way.”
“I had a client meeting,” Javier explained as he ate his soup.
“And did it go well?” Desmond asked, eyes full of hope.
It meant the world to have someone truly and genuinely on his side, even if he had to disappoint the man by saying, “No, it did not go well. At all.”
The concern in Desmond’s eyes almost made Javier feel whole again. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Javier paused with his spoon halfway to his lips.
Maisy’s suggestion that he ask Desmond for money rang in his ears.
The temptation to spill every last one of his problems into Desmond’s lap and ask him to carry some of the emotional burden was there, too.
But behind it all was an overwhelming fear.
He didn’t want Desmond to know how close his dream business was to failing.
He didn’t want the man who looked at him with such lust and longing to find out he was a complete failure.
“You know what, baby,” Javier said, putting his spoon down and reaching over to rest his hand over one of Desmond’s, “let’s not worry about it, okay? Let’s make this lunch all about the two of us. This is a work-free zone.”
“Alright,” Desmond said with a slightly hesitant nod. “If that’s what you think is best.”
“For right now, it is what I think is best.” And because Javier wanted nothing more than to wipe the look of worry clear off of Desmond’s handsome face, he added, “This is our time, for me and you. Whatever shit I have going on at work and whatever the fuck you might be dealing with, let’s just leave it all behind and just be here for each other. ”
Desmond smiled and let out a long, soft breath. “I like that,” he said, the powerful executive in him taking a backseat to the man who had made Javier breakfast, twice, and come all over his hand.
Javier grinned and went back to eating, remembering those heated moments between them. “How are your plants?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as if he’d asked an entirely different question.
Desmond laughed and blushed, which had Javier glad he was sitting at a table where the sudden tent in his trousers wouldn’t be so noticeable. “Well, they’re—”
“Desmond!”
The shout shook both Javier and Desmond out of the ridiculous heart-eyes they’d started to make at each other. Javier straightened and turned to find an all-too familiar tall, slim, attractive man with chestnut-brown hair and patrician features striding toward them.
“Matthew,” Desmond snapped in return, his back stiffening so fast Javier was surprised he didn’t hear it pop. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here,” Matthew answered as he came to stand beside the table. The man had the audacity to look angry. Javier didn’t know if he meant he worked in one of the many office buildings around Canada Water or in one of the restaurants or shops.
“Matthew, now is not the time,” Desmond said through a clenched jaw, his blush turning into a flush of anger. “I’m having lunch.”
“I can see that,” Matthew said, planting his hands on his hips and glaring at Javier. “Is he still sniffing around you?”
Javier was seconds away from standing up and giving the man a piece of his mind, especially for what had happened at the concert, but Desmond beat him to it. “I won’t have you interrupting my lunches,” he said, standing and forcing Matthew to take a step back from the table.
“I need to talk to you,” Matthew said, lowering his voice and leaning toward Desmond like the two were having a lover’s spat.
Javier knew better than to think somehow the two were still together. All the same, he stood and met Matthew glare for glare, silently telling the bastard he would defend his man if he had to.
Desmond cleared his throat and glanced furtively around. “Please, let’s not make a public scene.”
“I want to know why my deposit didn’t come through this week and why you’ve blocked my number,” Matthew hissed.
Javier smiled despite himself. Good for Desmond for blocking the arse’s number.
Desmond sighed and looked at Javier. “I’m sorry,” he said, longing and sadness in his gaze. “I need to take care of this. It was lovely meeting up with you.”
Javier understood a lot from those few words.
Desmond wanted to deal with Matthew on his own.
He wasn’t dismissing Javier, he was just handling things.
“No problem, baby,” he said with a smile, touching the small of Desmond’s back before turning to gather up their lunch things.
“I need to get back to the office anyhow.”
Desmond gave him a look that said they would talk, then whipped around to glare at Matthew. “You cannot keep doing this,” he growled under his breath, marching Matthew away from the dining area.
Javier watched them go for a moment before concentrating on cleaning up from lunch.
Another couple was already eyeing their table covetously.
He got out of their way, then thought about heading back toward Desmond’s building to make certain everything turned out for the best and Matthew got what was coming to him.
Desmond was a grown man who could take care of himself, though, so he headed into the shopping center.
As soon as he reached the platform for the DLR, his phone buzzed with a text from Desmond.
“It’s taken care of. Do you want to come over for supper tonight?”
Javier smiled, feeling as though things were back on track. “Of course,” he replied, then headed for the station.
Half of his life might have been falling apart, but the other half of it felt like it was only just beginning.