Chapter 1 #5
The ghost of a smile skimmed across Joshua’s face, and he nodded, about to say something when the door opened and Ben joined them in the small space.
While Leo saw no need to hide anything from the team, Joshua closed off and moved past Leo to dry his hands.
He acted as though their conversation hadn’t happened at all.
Leo wanted to push, argue his point. Instead, he held the door for Joshua and then followed him into the corridor, Joshua’s bodyguard falling into step. They didn’t speak as they returned to the conference room, Joshua’s stance inviting no further input. His face was set into a frown.
Five minutes later, Joshua declared that he hadn’t made up his mind about which option to pursue, that he needed a night to sleep on it.
He didn’t back down when George warned him that they couldn’t afford the luxury of time, George’s body coiled tight with suppressed energy.
“One night,” Joshua insisted. “Surely that’s not too much to ask for, right?
We’re talking about a million pounds, which—that’s a lot, so just…
tell them we’ll let them know by tomorrow morning at ten? ”
For a few seconds, George stared at Joshua.
Then he deflated, nodding sharply. “All right. I’ll respond to their email, tell them we need some time to sort out the payment process from our side.
And James and I will work on the details of the follow-up plan, see how we can avoid running into something like this in the future. ”
Ah, so developing a follow-up plan had occurred to them after all.
Good to know—even if Joshua hadn’t realised that the future might hold a simple rehash of this very situation.
Had George considered it, and simply neglected to tell Joshua so as not to trouble him?
Or to steer him in a certain direction? Inquiring minds wanted to know. Inquiring minds craved to know.
“That would be great, George,” Joshua said softly. “Please do. And thank you.”
While he didn’t look at Leo, it felt as though Joshua was addressing him as much as he was addressing George and James. Leo kept his face blank, biting down on the smile that wanted to creep up on him.
* * *
Tristan picked up on the second ring. It had to be some kind of record, and Joshua took it as a sign that Mo had already filled Tristan in on this morning’s unpleasant news. Joshua’s suspicions proved true when Tristan opened with, “Porn star! How’s it hanging?”
“Funny,” Joshua said. “True comedian, you are. And you are the one dating a Victoria’s Secret model, so I think I’m in good company.”
The thought flared that Leo had told him not to trust anyone. It was Tristan, though.
Tristan had been the first and best friend Joshua had made at Eton, and when Joshua had broken down over how he might fancy boys, Tristan had hugged him for about a century, then proceeded to get him drunk and tuck him into bed.
“You like who you like,” he’d said. That statement had plunged into the abyss of sleep with Joshua, winding through his dreams. His head had housed a marching band in the morning, but his chest had felt just slightly lighter.
There had been countless chances for Tristan to expose Joshua much, much earlier than this, and he hadn’t used a single one.
The same was true for Mo, who’d been a part of Joshua’s life ever since Joshua’s first week at university, Joshua drenched with rain and stumbling—literally—into the café where Mo had worked.
Mo had known Joshua’s secret ever since they’d ended up snogging one night in Mo’s room, just to see what it was like to kiss a boy, right, just between friends.
Not much use in pretending to be as straight as a ruler after that.
Also, it had given Joshua the chance to pick up a shred of experience, just enough that he wouldn’t embarrass himself completely if he ever got a shot at something real.
Anyway. Mo and Tristan were above suspicion. Joshua acquiesced to treat everyone else with the kind of caution that Leo guy had recommended, yes, fine, but Tristan and Mo were as dependable as Joshua’s mother and sister. Joshua wouldn’t let some worthless criminal drive a wedge between them.
It was out of the question.
He made a vague noise of agreement at whatever Tristan had said, then pressed the button to slide up the partition between the front and the backseat.
When he tuned back in, Tristan was ranting about “the fucking nerve of some people, seriously, fucking cunts who wouldn’t know how to spell privacy if it bit them in the arse, and also, mate, also, this is the twenty-first century and you shouldn’t have to hide anymore, that’s so beyond unfair I want to hit something.
” The cascade of Tristan’s words, the genuine outrage on Joshua’s behalf, went a long way in calming the rush of blood in his ears that had been present since he’d rolled out of bed and straight into a nightmare.
“Hey, Tristan?” Joshua said eventually, tipping his head back against the seat. “When you were working with James Boyle, what was your impression of him and his team?”
Tristan made a disgruntled noise. “Wasn’t me working with them, was my parents. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Kels that needs to be fucking handled, just so we’re clear.”
“I know.” In spite of the general gloom clinging to his nerve endings, Joshua smiled, just slightly. Tristan was amazing like that. “But you met the team a couple of times, didn’t you? What did you think?”
“They’re good,” Tristan said. “Might not look it, what with how most of them are pretty young. Like, Carole and Nate and Leo, I think they’re in their mid-twenties?
But they’re really good, know what they’re doing.
Good people. I actually went to have a pint with Leo and Nate.
Got both their numbers, meant to stay in touch and forgot.
” He paused, as though considering a sudden thought.
When he spoke again, there was delight in his voice.
“Leo giving you trouble? He’s not a fan of nobility, made that plenty clear, what with my parents’ antiquated ideas of honour and all. You being a swaggering prince—”
“I don’t swagger,” Joshua interjected.
Tristan continued as though he hadn’t heard it. “—would probably raise his hackles.”
Joshua huffed out a faint chuckle. “It did.”
“Thought as much.” A grin brightened Tristan’s voice. “He’s not so bad, though, once you get past that.”
“Did you know he’s gay?” Joshua asked, then wished he hadn’t when Tristan gave a sharp cackle.
“Didn’t, nope. Can’t say it matters to me, but you always did like it when people gave you a bit of lip, eh?”
Joshua exhaled, an impression of Leo’s summer-bright, quick voice washing against the inside of his skull. It wasn’t the point of his call, though, and it certainly wasn’t why he’d asked for Tristan’s opinion.
“That’s not in any way relevant right now,” Joshua said.
“You know I’ve got bigger problems. I was just wondering what you thought of them, the whole team, since they’re kind of…
instrumental? And because of something Leo said to me, so it’s—I’ll tell you when I see you.
I mean, you’ll be at Mo’s too, right? Can’t promise I’ll be good company, mind. ”
For once, Tristan didn’t tease Joshua for rambling, just rolled with it. “We’ll ply you with pizza and beer,” he promised. “And yeah, I’ll be there after I drop Kels off. Mo’s worried about how we’re all co-dependent, by the way. ‘S’adorable.”
Seeing as they’d parted ways just last night after a two-week holiday spent in each other’s pockets, Mo might have a point. On the other hand, he’d been the one to suggest Joshua come over once the meetings were through. Mo did not have a leg to stand on.
“Thanks, T.” Joshua exhaled. “I’ll see you later, then.”
“Hey,” Tristan said quickly, before Joshua could end the call. “I got Leo’s number, if you want it. Purely for crisis-related reasons, of course.”
Oh. Well, Joshua had been planning to call James so as to give him the go-ahead on a subtle investigation, but… calling Leo would be easier. Less need for an explanation.
It would be convenient.
“Text it to me?” Joshua asked.
“Will do,” Tristan replied, and if he sounded just a tad amused, Joshua chose to ignore it.
* * *
Leo’s phone rang during the one smoke break he allowed himself throughout the working day.
Filthy habit, smoking. Nate had tried to wean him off it for the better part of a year, but Leo figured that he’d done much riskier things in life.
Three cigarettes a day wouldn’t kill him, at least not anytime soon.
He planned to die young and beautiful anyway.
At the generic ringtone associated with unknown numbers, he blew smoke into the warm afternoon air and fished his phone out of his pocket. A string of unfamiliar figures flashed on the screen. All right. Call centre or a street kid looking for advice.
Leaning into the balcony railing, Leo picked up with a neutral, “Yes?”
“Hi, um.” Deep, slow voice, slightly uncertain. No call centre, clearly. “Is this Leo?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” Leo softened his tone, smiled so that it would shine through and tapped some ash into a gap between two wooden boards. “Kylie give you this number? How can I help, love?”
A cough, followed by a pause. Leo waited it out by taking a drag of his cigarette, all too familiar with the inherent caution the street taught you quickly and efficiently, the kind of distrust in anyone but yourself that made it hard to ask for help when you didn’t know what it would cost you.
“You wanna tell me your name?” Leo asked when the silence began to drag and all he could hear was steady breathing on the other end.
He deliberately thickened his accent. “Or I could talk a bit, if you want.”
“It’s Joshua,” the voice said, gentle confusion clouding the words. “Uh. Prince Joshua?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.