Chapter 14 #2
The moment of sweetness was brief. As soon as they left the house and had Hassan pick them up to drive them to the event, every one of Desmond’s apprehensions returned in full force.
“Don’t look so nervous,” Hassan told him with a cheeky grin as he held the limo door in front of the hotel where the Peabody Honors were taking place. “I can’t think of anyone who deserves this award more.”
Desmond tried to smile and thank his friend, but deep down, he couldn’t help but feel like he was about to disappoint yet another person he actually liked and cared about.
He was a mess by the time they walked into the overly loud, garishly decorated hotel ballroom where the dinner was taking place.
It was a nightmare from the start with everyone wanting to seek him out and talk to him, about the award, about the Hongyuan Nanjing deal, and once they got a look at him, about Javier and who he was.
“Just remember that these people all want you to succeed,” Javier reminded him at one point, when they broke away from the mingling to fetch champagne and appetizers. “It’s obvious just how much people in here respect you.”
“Is it?” Desmond asked, even more weight of expectation piling on his shoulders.
“You don’t think so?” Javier asked, sending him a curious look.
Instead of answering, Desmond took a long drink from his champagne flute.
The alcohol didn’t help. Neither did the fact that as soon as he and Javier went back to mingling, none other than Angus McTavish broke away from his conversation with a few of London’s most celebrated financial executives to join them.
“If it isn’t the man of the hour,” Angus said, raising his own champagne flute in salute. He glanced to Javier and said, “You’re lucky to be here on the arm of London’s current brightest light.”
Javier’s smile tightened, and after everything that had been said at Kew Gardens, Desmond could guess why.
“Javier is a light of his own as well,” he told Angus. “He’s brilliant, and he runs a successful talent agency.”
Instead of propping Javier up, Desmond’s statement took even more light out of his lover’s eyes.
“I do what I can,” Javier said, nodding without much conviction.
Shit. Wrapped up in all his own problems as he’d been, Desmond hadn’t thought to ask Javier how things were going at his agency for an entire week.
He’d thought he was respecting Javier’s privacy by not bringing the subject up, but now, with so many other pressures swirling around him, he wondered if that was a bad idea. Javier needed him and he’d failed.
“I didn’t realize the two of you were together seriously when I met you at the warehouse the other week,” Angus brutally continued the conversation instead of walking away.
He raked Javier with an appreciative look and added, “Maybe we could all get together sometime. I bet Des here would like that.”
Desmond’s face blazed with shame. “Er, I don’t think so,” he said, then downed the rest of his champagne. There was no way it contained enough alcohol to obliterate the shame that was creeping up on him like the tide.
Javier glanced between Desmond and Angus as if putting a few pieces together. “I take it the two of you share more than just financial interests?”
Desmond wanted to run.
Angus laughed loudly, drawing a few glances that only made Desmond want to sink into the floor. “There was a time,” he said vaguely, winking at Javier. “Des here and I have had some interesting times. Matthew, too.” He winked again, this time at Desmond.
“Perhaps now is not the right time to—”
Desmond was cut off as Angus said, “Matthew’s here tonight, somewhere.” He glanced around in search of him as every nerve in Desmond’s body flashed with alarm. “Maybe we can bring him over and the four of us can have a little chat about this and that and the other.”
Angus had clearly already had too much to drink, which was shocking in and of itself. But mostly because loose lips led to entire fleets going under.
“I think we should go,” Desmond murmured to Javier, whose eyes looked wider than usual, which had nothing to do with the light eyeliner and barest hint of shadow he wore.
“Save me a seat at your table.” Angus saluted Desmond with his champagne as Des tugged Javier’s sleeve to nudge him along. “I’m sure we have lots to talk about, business and pleasure.”
Desmond was mortified. He glanced around, trying to gauge whether anyone else in the mulling, chatting crowd had overheard. God only knew what they would think to see someone he was supposed to have a competitive relationship with acting so friendly with him.
They made it to the corner of the room before Javier dug his heels in and stopped, resting a hand on Desmond’s shoulder and pulling him closer with a, “Whoa, whoa, sweetie. You want to tell me what just happened?”
Desmond blew out a breath and rubbed his free hand over his face, partially because it separated him from Javier a bit.
No, he did not want to tell Javier what had just happened.
He didn’t want to tell him anything. He wanted the two of them to continue on in blissful fantasy, neither of them disappointing the other because they weren’t who they pretended to be.
“I—” He didn’t have the words. All Desmond could do was stare at Javier, at the kindness and concern in his eyes and how beautiful he was as a person.
His lover had already guessed that Angus was an ex of sorts when they’d met the first time, but the real story felt like a ticking timebomb he couldn’t defuse.
Javier shifted his weight and put his half-empty champagne on a tray a few feet away. “There’s definitely a story there,” he said, moving back to stand in front of Desmond, like he would take him in his arms and make things better.
But there was no making this better. He wasn’t the perfect boyfriend that Javier thought he was. He was grubby and tarnished, and the truth was almost certainly about to blow up all over the place.
“This definitely has something to do with Matthew,” Javier said with a puzzled frown when Desmond failed to say a single damn thing. “I swear to God, if I ever see that man again, which is apparently a strong possibility tonight, I can’t be held responsible for—”
“No, it’s not Matthew,” Desmond interrupted, pinching his face and stepping aside to put down his glass as well. And also to get some distance from his lover. “I mean, yes, it has a bit to do with Matthew, but not really.”
“Honey, honey, calm down,” Javier said, holding both of Desmond’s arms.
Never in the history of calming down had anyone ever calmed down by being told to calm down.
“Never mind,” Desmond said, trying to break out of Javier’s hold, maybe with the intention of running for the nearest door. “This whole thing is a mistake.”
Javier’s eyes went wide. “You’d better not be talking about us, Desmond White.”
A whole different sort of fear landed in Desmond’s gut at Javier’s use of his full name. He met Javier’s alarmed gaze and couldn’t break away.
“I don’t understand,” Javier said, shaking his head slightly. “I mean, I take it that you and Angus McDrunkface had a fling at some point. I’m pretty sure Matthew was involved.”
“It was a threesome,” Desmond hissed, turning his face down, unable to look Javier in the eyes as he confessed. “A sordid, kinky threesome. And I was not the one in control of it.”
Instead of looking disgusted, like Desmond would have expected, Javier looked furious. “Baby, was there consent involved?” he asked, voice shaking slightly.
Desmond jerked to stare at him again. “Yes, of course,” he said, then immediately doubted whether that was true. “You don’t understand. Angus is a competitor.”
Javier’s face twitched, like he was trying to put the pieces together but couldn’t quite work it out. “So, sleeping with the enemy?”
“You don’t understand,” Desmond repeated with more intensity, backing off a bit and pushing a hand through his hair.
Or, at least, he would have if Javier hadn’t styled it with so much product earlier.
“There were other things about that whole…tryst, too. Things that were—” Were what?
How did he explain it? Most people didn’t understand the ins and outs of the financial world.
Insider trading meant nothing to the vast majority of people, but it was punishable by fines or jail time in the worst of cases.
In a wicked twist of irony, someone turned on the mic at the front of the ballroom before Desmond could even begin to explain and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to take your seats, we can begin tonight’s program.”
It was the out Desmond needed, but he didn’t feel good about taking it.
“We should sit down,” he said, marching away from Javier with the pain of his failure wrapped so tightly around him that he felt like it might trip him.
“Desmond,” Javier called after him, striding to catch up. “Des, honey, what’s going on?”
Desmond didn’t have time to answer. He wasn’t sure what he would have said even if he did.
He just wanted to get the nightmare of an awards ceremony over with so he could go back to the shambles of his life the way it had been before Javier had stumbled his way into it with glitter and a song.
Because there was no way that he could, in good conscience, keep the full truth from Javier now.