Chapter 14
fourteen
. . .
By every ordinary measure of success, Desmond’s life was golden. The week after his and Javier’s awkward outing to the botanical gardens, he and Marcus managed to exceed everyone’s expectations by winning the Hongyuan Nanjing contract.
“You and Marcus have just made an incredible amount of money for this company and for yourselves,” Albert Jones, the company’s other senior partner congratulated Desmond by thumping his back and shaking his hand halfway through Tuesday morning.
“Between this and the Peabody Honors, I’m sure you can expect an offer of senior partnership by the end of the month.
You’ll be our youngest senior partner ever. It’s quite an accomplishment.”
Desmond had thanked the man graciously and maintained the mantel of top-notch professionalism, but the second he’d been alone in his own office with the door closed, he’d sagged into his chair and puffed out a bewildered breath.
He supposed he should be proud of himself for scoring a major contract and winning an industry award. But all he could think about was the underpinning of mud and muck behind his career that most of the world didn’t know about.
Javier had touched on that guilt inadvertently while they were at Kew Gardens.
Ethics. Fairness. Following the law and what was good and proper.
All of those things were important to his maybe boyfriend.
They’d been important to his mum and dad, too.
He’d been raised to believe those were the only values that mattered, and he believed that now more than ever.
Javier had confirmed as much when he’d talked about his disappointment with his struggling business.
Refusing Desmond’s offer of financial help was just another aspect of Javier’s good character.
An aspect that Desmond couldn’t live up to.
It was just his luck that the other amazing thing in his life, the one he valued more than financial gain or industry recognition, if he was honest with himself, was Javier himself.
What had he ever done to deserve such a kind, caring, beautiful soul for a boyfriend?
And how had he screwed it up so much already that Javier thought he would be burdening him with the troubles of his business and the rest of his life instead of believing he would embrace everything about him?
Of course, he wasn’t exactly doing the best job of being upfront about his own life.
Yes, he was ashamed of the things he’d done and wanted to keep them from Javier as long as possible, wanted to hold on to Javier as long as possible.
But with each day that ticked on, whether they were weekdays where Desmond cosplayed being a financial bigwig or blissful weekends when all he had to be was Javier’s, it was becoming more and more obvious to Des that something had to give.
As much as he loved the bubble, it was time to burst it and merge realities.
Which is how he found himself standing beside Javier at the kitchen counter the next Saturday morning, working in tandem to make breakfast like they usually did, his lips twitching as the words he knew he had to speak kept trying to get out.
“Is everything okay, sweetie?” Javier asked, a bit more out of sorts than he usually was when they were being domestic together. “I noticed you didn’t sleep particularly well last night.”
Desmond tried to answer, but all that came out at first was a weird and embarrassing noise. “I have a few things on my mind, yes,” he admitted, hoping it would spur him on to more.
Javier grinned. “Does this have something to do with you winning that big contract?” he asked, managing to be the perfect, supportive boyfriend at exactly the wrong time.
Des was supposed to be confessing his sins and merging his real life with his weekends, not being congratulated for achievements he wasn’t sure he deserved.
“Perhaps,” he said, turning back to the toast he was buttering. “Maybe. Also, maybe not. I’m still not sure how I feel about the Hongyuan Nanjing deal.”
Javier took the eggs he’d just finished scrambling in a pan off the hob and sent Desmond a curious look. “Is there any way to feel about it other than extraordinarily proud and happy?”
Desmond shrugged one shoulder. “It was a team effort,” he said, then was silent for a moment as they plated their breakfast and carried it to the table.
He really needed to stop faffing about and just tell Javier about Angus and the insider trading. Javier had come clean about his failing business, so it was only fair.
It took him several sips of tea and nibbling on the corner of a piece of toast, which felt dry and tasteless in his mouth, before he summoned up the courage to say, “It’s more about the award I’ll be receiving at the Peabody Honors this Friday, the Lundy Prize.”
Javier burst into a smile that was as bright as the new morning sunshine streaming in through the sunroom. “I’m so proud of you for that one, baby,” he said, reaching across the table to squeeze Desmond’s hand.
That touch, that show of support and encouragement was everything Desmond had ever wanted from a partner and more.
He twisted his hand so he could interlock his fingers with Javier’s.
The two of them just stared at each other for a moment, both looking ridiculous and dreamy.
But underneath Desmond’s soppy exterior, his heart pounded hard against his ribs.
He didn’t deserve any of this. Not one ounce.
“You see,” he tried, “the thing is….” He was too arrested by the warmth in Javier’s eyes to continue.
His imagination conjured up visions of Javier’s flirty smile turning into a look of disgust and horror when he confessed that not only should he not receive an ethics award because he’d engaged in illegal behavior, but that he’d been sleeping with the man he’d shared inside information with and his boyfriend at the time.
“I know it violates the conditions of our arrangement, but I was hoping you’d be my date to the awards dinner and ceremony on Friday,” he blurted out in the end, taking things in exactly the opposite direction he’d intended to.
Javier’s answering smile was dazzling. “I would like nothing more than to stand by your side at that awards dinner,” he said, his voice like a warm embrace.
“Um, good, then,” Desmond said, mortified that he’d chickened out of telling the truth and making both himself and their relationship more real.
“You’re going to have to let me dress you for this event,” Javier said at once, almost as if he’d given the matter a lot of thought in advance.
Of course, he’d known about the award almost as long as Desmond had known, so he probably had been thinking about it.
“At this point, I’m intimately familiar with the contents of your wardrobe, and I can safely say that we need to go shopping this weekend to prepare. ”
“I have no objection to shopping with you,” Desmond said with a smile that he hoped didn’t look fake.
He really would like to go shopping with Javier.
He’d like to do anything and everything out in public with the man he was more in love with than he wanted to admit to.
And maybe if they spent the day on Oxford Street or in Harrod’s, he’d work up the nerve to tell Javier all the reasons he shouldn’t be receiving an ethics award in the first place.
Desmond did not tell Javier the whole story during their shopping trip.
He didn’t tell him as Javier whisked him around to half a dozen high-end shops and tailors, outfitting him in the perfect suit.
He didn’t tell him over supper, which they ate out at a Michelin-starred restaurant, in full view of anyone and everyone in a way that made it clear the two of them were together.
He didn’t say a word in bed that night, as Javier pounded him into the mattress and rocked his world, or on Sunday morning, when he did it again.
He didn’t come clean before Javier left for his own place Sunday afternoon, and he failed miserably at every attempt he almost made to text Javier during the week to let him know everything was a lie and he wasn’t the upstanding and moral hero the entire financial world seemed to suddenly think he was.
He didn’t say anything, because every time he found an opening to broach the subject, all he could imagine was Javier’s disappointment and the way he would back away and leave Desmond in disgust.
“You want me to tie that for you, babydoll?” Javier asked on Friday evening, as the two of them got ready for the awards dinner at Desmond’s house.
“Er, sure,” Desmond said, handing over his tie.
Javier stepped close, looping his arms around Desmond’s neck, settling the tie, then tying it in a perfect bow. “If I haven’t mentioned it already,” he said in a soft, sensual voice, fire in his eyes, “I’m so proud of you.”
Desmond melted, but not entirely in good ways.
“Thank you,” he said, leaning his cheek into Javier’s large, capable hand when he touched Desmond’s face.
Those simple touches and the way Javier was so open and affectionate with him were more precious than any award or all the zeroes in his bank account.
“That means a lot to me,” he finished, voice rough.
Javier blinked his beautiful eyes at him and tilted his head to the side with a look of concern. “You sure you’re okay?”
Desmond took a deep breath, held it, and told himself now was the time to confess all. But he couldn’t do it. He blew out the breath and instead said, “I’m not particularly keen on public speaking, and I’m expected to make a bit of a speech tonight.”
“You’re going to do great,” Javier assured him, taking his face in both hands, studying him, then leaning in for a kiss. “If it’s that bad, just look at me the whole time you’re talking up there and pretend you’re thanking me and me alone.”
Desmond smiled and lowered his head as much as he could with Javier holding it. “I probably will,” he said.