Chapter 18 #2
“I am such an arse,” he whispered, then glanced mournfully at the anthurium yet to bloom.
The problem was, knowing he was an arse and knowing what to do about it were two different things.
The man he’d been a month before, the powerful executive who landed one of the most important financial deals his company had seen in a decade, the man who could make decisions, direct employees, and charm clients, felt completely gone.
In its place was a man who couldn’t even unpack the boxes that contained all the remnants of the man he’d been.
And he was having a hard time dealing with the stuff he’d brought in from his office as well.
“Let’s find you a good place in the sunroom,” he told the anthurium, grabbing it and pushing away from the counter to introduce it to the rest of the family.
It would have been entirely too easy for Desmond to stay in the sunroom forever, like some sort of eccentric billionaire who had lost his mind and thought his plants were visitors from another galaxy who knew all the secrets of the universe.
His sunroom was the only place that felt truly safe at the moment.
It felt safe because it was the scene of so many beautiful weekends with Javier.
Once, he’d enjoyed the space because it smelled of dirt and greenery and because of the slight humidity in the air.
Now he loved it because it reminded him of Javier’s laughter, of his quick banter and brilliant sense of humor as they’d sat tucked on the love seat together, chatting about everything and nothing for ages.
It was filled with the spirit of the version of himself that he liked the most, the version he hadn’t realized existed until Javier had brought him out.
There was nothing for it. With a sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket and sat on the love seat. He was going to have to come clean to Javier about everything eventually, so why not now?
Except when Desmond dialed his number, it rang and rang, then went to voicemail.
“Hi, you’ve reached Javier Rivera. If you’re calling about Rivera Talent, I’m sorry to inform you that we’ve closed shop and are no longer in business.
If you’re a former client or talent, leave a message and I’ll get back to you about finalizing your contract as soon as possible.
Sorry for any inconvenience this might cause. ”
A shrill beep sounded as Desmond flinched, eyes going wide. Javier had shut down his business? The one that had carried all his hopes and dreams?
He almost forgot to speak to leave a message. “Javier, it’s Desmond. I…I don’t really know what to say right now. I would like to see you. I am ready to talk. More than ready. I’m sorry about so many things. I really think we should—”
The voicemail cut off, sending a wave of dread straight to Desmond’s gut. He had no idea why a voicemail message in the modern era would simply end like that. It felt like a horrible sign.
He thought about calling back and leaving another message.
He thought about texting as well. But his emotional paralysis was already bad enough.
All he could actually do was sit there in the sunroom as weak sunlight shone down through the clouds that skittered across the London sky, not quite threatening rain, but not giving up and letting everyone have a fully sunny day either.
It was no use sitting where he was, letting worry get the best of him.
He pushed himself into motion, leaving the sunroom to head into the hall.
He took his bag of dirty clothes upstairs, leaving the boxes from his office in the hall, and emptied everything into his hamper.
From there, he showered and put on clean clothes suitable for an avant-garde children’s birthday party, which meant ordinary jeans and a navy-blue button-down shirt.
He shared his father’s opinion that the party would probably be ridiculous.
He didn’t know what else to do but get back in his car and head out to Surrey once again to attend, though. All he could do for the time being was go through the motions of being a functional adult, even though he definitely wasn’t.
The party was everything he’d dreaded and more from the second he stepped out into the back garden of his mother’s cousin’s house.
“Desmond!” Geoffrey greeted him, dressed in a sparkly outfit that was either high fashion or some secondary school student’s sewing project gone wrong.
“What’s this I hear about you walking away from a corner office and more economic power than the rest of us have put together?
” He immediately laughed at his question, then slapped Desmond hard on the back once he’d come to stand next to him.
“Hello, Geoffrey,” Desmond answered him with a long-suffering smile. “Yes, I left Pickering Jones.”
“But why, man?” Geoffrey leaned to close to him, his breath indicating he’d pre-gamed a child’s birthday party. “You had it all. Why let it go?”
Explaining ethics to a man who had hired what looked to be a troupe of actors to dress in bodysuits that appeared to have been designed by Jackson Pollock with headdresses provided by Chihuly so that they could entertain an army of unappreciative ten-year-olds would be a pointless exercise.
“I’ve recently discovered that finance is not what I want to do with my life,” Desmond said, taking the question more seriously than he should have.
Geoffrey snorted. “What, you don’t like money?”
That wasn’t the point. Desmond already had more money than he needed, and just because he didn’t want to work in finance anymore, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a savvy investor who could grow the number in his bank account at will with a bit of concentration.
Arguably, he never had to work again, not if he didn’t want to.
But he did want to. He wanted to do something more meaningful than building up cold portfolios for international companies. He wanted to spend his time around people who laughed and loved and cared for each other. He wanted to—
His thought stopped dead as he glanced across the lawn and the sea of perfectly dressed guests and absurd clowns. One of those clowns looked familiar. Intimately familiar.
“Javier?” he asked, his heart suddenly beating so hard against his ribs that it felt like its actions alone pushed him away from Geoffrey and across the lawn toward his lover.
Javier was dressed in a lurid green bodysuit with a hat that looked like a ball of pink yarn had exploded on his head after he stuck his finger in an electrical socket.
His face was painted beautifully, though.
Eye shadow, liner, and lipstick made him look otherworldly and gorgeous, despite the mess he was wearing.
It wasn’t just how he looked. Javier was juggling. Actually juggling with three golden balls that swirled with iridescence. Desmond had had no idea his boyfriend was so talented.
Of course, as soon as Javier caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye he fumbled the balls. The kids who had been watching him laughed, and one of them stole a ball from the grass and ran. Javier didn’t seem to notice. His gaze locked immediately to Desmond’s.
“Desmond,” he said, sounding serious and anxious, despite looking like a fool. He sounded tense and upset, like he was too angry to forgive Des for being such an arse.
It was too much. Desmond turned and ran.