Spencer Cohen Series, Book Two (The Spencer Cohen Series 2) (5 page)

* * * *

I relayed my meeting to Lola and Emilio. Emilio agreed that something sounded off about the whole thing, and Lola cautioned me to follow my gut. “I know, I know,” I agreed. “Lance Nader is a tosser, but what if this ex-boyfriend needs some help? It can’t hurt to look into it.”

“So, if you met this Tosser-Guy in a bar…?” Lola trailed off suggestively.

“I’d run a mile,” I said without hesitating. “He pinged my arsehole-o-meter before he even sat down.”

Lola made that face that told me I was being an idiot. “You’re saying all the things I’d expect you to say if you turned the job down,” she said.

“I know.” I sighed loudly. “I might not even be able to find the guy.”

She rubbed my arm. “I trust your judgement, Spence. If something doesn’t feel right, just tell Tosser-guy it’s no bueno.”

I finally gave her a smile. “I will.”

“You look good today,” she said, dropping the subject of my new client, who had not-so-subtly been given the nickname of Tosser-Guy. Because that’s what he was.

I looked down at my shirt and pants. I’d worn this before. “Um, thanks?”

She laughed. “It’s not your clothes. It’s you. Look at you being all happy and shit.”

“Oh.” I knew what she was referring to. She was about to tell me I had some inner glow from love or sex or something equally embarrassing. “I like your dress. Is that new?”

She wasn’t fooled. “Nice try.”

“I’m serious. Is that sunshine yellow?”

She narrowed her eyes at me but went back to unpacking a box of new jewellery for Daniela. “Are those new Prince Albert designs?”

“Yep. Want one?”

My dick shrank back inside my body at the thought. “Ah, no thanks.”

She laughed. “Andrew might like it.”

I ignored her. “The yellow of your dress really suits your pink hair,” I added. “Same tone. And the thin black belt and matching black high heels is a great combination.”

Lola laughed and shook her head at me. “You’re not deflecting anything with me, Spencer Cohen. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” I lied.

She tugged on my beard. “I’m happy for you and Andrew. Even if you don’t want to talk about it.”

I laughed incredulously. “I have talked about it. I’ve told you as much as I can about me and Andrew without divulging our favourite lube.”

Someone laughed outside the cubicle.

“On that note,” I said, walking to the cubicle curtain. I spoke to whoever the hell was listening. “I will see you good people tomorrow.” I stuck my head out to see Emilio. “Need anything, man?”

He looked up from where he was inking a customer. “Nah.”

“Dinner later?”

“No hot date tonight?”

I groaned. “No.”

“That’s tomorrow night,” Lola yelled out from her cubicle.

I took a deep breath, but it did little to stem the traitorous blush that heated my stupid cheeks.

Emilio laughed. “Nah, I’m finishing up early tonight. Shop’ll be shut by seven.”

“Okay. Call me if you need anything. And tell Daniela I said thank you for yesterday. And the night before for helping me with my Academy Award winning Maker’s Mark performance.” I cringed as the memory of bourbon burned in my throat. “Any night this week you guys want dinner, it’s on me.”

Emilio grinned at me. “Any night, but not tomorrow night.”

“Well no, tomorrow night is… yeah whatever, just not tomorrow night.”

He laughed. “I’ll tell my beautiful woman,” he said. “She’ll take you up on that offer, my friend.”

“Good. We’ll aim for Friday night dinner, if something doesn’t change in the meantime,” I said happily. I stopped at the cubicle on my way to the back door. “And Lola, you and Gabe included. It’s my treat.”

“Will Andrew be joining us?” she asked. Her tone was a mix of both teasing and hopeful.

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I’ll ask.”

Her smile was beautiful. “Okay!”

I withheld a groan, but I was back to smiling. I had to wonder if I’d ever stopped.

* * * *

I spent the afternoon doing online searches for Yanni Tomaras. He had no social media accounts, well, not under his real name. Not that I could find, anyway. By cross-referencing locations and photos, even likes and anything that had been favourited, there was no other Yanni that was remotely close to the pictures Lance had sent me.

I tried a varied combination of his name, date of birth, and address. Then I added in his college and class information, coupled with his place of employment, and surprisingly, I made some headway.

I must have lost track of time because the next thing I knew, my phone rang. Andrew’s name flashed up on screen.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Hi.”

I was one hundred percent certain I was doing that ridiculous smiling thing, just from the sound of his voice. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he replied. “I survived the colleague inquisition, though only barely.”

“Was it rough?”

He groaned. “Painful.”

I chuckled. “Yes, Lola accosted me again today. Though my diversion tactics of complimenting her outfit were countered, and it’s true what they say, resistance is futile.”

He made a happy sound. “Well, I’m having lunch with my mom tomorrow.”

“Remember,” I said seriously. “When in doubt, compliment her outfit.”

“You just said that didn’t work.”

“Well, it didn’t work on Lola, but she knows all my cunning plans.”

“Did you just quote
Blackadder
?”

“Do you know
Blackadder
?”

“Well, obviously.”

I laughed. “My Aunt Marvie loved all the British shows.”

“My dad was born in England,” Andrew said. “Came here when he was very young, but his family loves them too. We grew up watching the BBC.”

“I didn’t know that,” I mused. “That you’re half English.”

“Where do you think I get my awesome tan from?”

God, he made me laugh. “Well, for what it’s worth, I hear pale is the new tan. All the rage in LA at the moment. I saw an article in
Pasty Living
.”

“You’re not funny,” he said, though I could hear the smile in his voice. “And I’m not pasty.”

“No, you’ve got great skin, I must say. When you get here tomorrow night for dinner, you might have to get naked just so I can be sure though.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep. Absolutely.”

He sighed. “I’m sure I can arrange something. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

It was quiet where he was. There was no background noise. “Are you home already?”

“Yep. Been home for a while.”

I checked my watch. Shit, it was six-thirty. “I didn’t realise the time.”

“What did you get up to today?”

“I met a new client today.”

Silence.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I added quickly, defensively. “He’s a bit of a wanker, and it’s all a bit weird, to be honest.”

More silence.

“Andrew?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I just… why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did. Just now. I just told you.”

“No, I mean, before. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I forgot about it, to be honest. I had a life changing weekend, as you might recall. And I was going to tell you last night, but then you sent me a text about coming four times and my stupid brain went on a one-way trip to pornville. There was no coming back from that… Well, there was coming… I had to see whether I could manage four times in one day—well, since I was seventeen anyway—and I couldn’t let you beat me. I’m competitive like that.”

He was silent again, but then he laughed. “What?”

“Do you want me to repeat all of that?”

“You didn’t message me back to say that you did a fourth.”

“I was in an orgasm coma, thanks to you. I wasn’t capable of texting.”

He laughed, but he was serious when he asked, “And your weekend was life-changing?”

“Yes. I seemed to have scored myself a smokin’ hot boyfriend. And that’s a first for me. A boyfriend of any kind, that is.” I sighed and spoke quietly, “So forgive me if I forget to tell you things… It’s just that I’ve never let anyone in. Ever.”

I could hear him suck back a breath. After a beat of silence, his voice was soft when he asked, “Smoking hot, huh?”

“Yeah, totally. He was on the cover of
Pasty Living
and everything.”

Now he laughed again. “I’m sorry. I just tend to get on the defensive.”

“That’s okay. I tend to get on the clueless. So we’re even.”

He let out a long breath. “So, a new fake boyfriend, huh?”

“If you mean new client, then yes. But I’m not pretending anything with this guy.”

“What do you mean?”

I just realised how that must have sounded. “No, no, no. I mean, I don’t have to pretend to be with him or anything like that. I don’t have to get to know him, or touch him, or even hang out with him.”

“Oh.”

“Would it bother you if I did?” I asked. I knew the answer to that already. It clearly did bother him. “It’s normally what I do. It’s how I met you! So you knew what I did for a job, Andrew.”

“I know,” he replied quietly. “And I’m trying not to have an issue with it, but the idea of you spending time with another guy, the way we did…”

“Yeah, but I don’t spend time with them like we did. I don’t normally do half of what we did with any other client. I told you, you were different. From day one, things were different with you.”

“I know,” he said again. “I’m allowed to feel a little jealous. I mean, would you prefer me to not tell you how something makes me feel?”

“No, I don’t want you to censor anything.”

“I know it’s your job, Spencer, and I don’t have an issue with what you do. I just… will you have to kiss him?”

“No, I won’t. It’s a weird case. He doesn’t want me to pretend to be his boyfriend. But I can’t promise that another case down the track won’t require me to hold some guy’s hand, or dance with him in a bar or something like that.”

Again with the silence, but this needed saying. I shouldn’t change what I did for a living just because I had a boyfriend. Should I?

“Can I ask you something?” His voice was kinda quiet.

“Sure.”

“If I had to, as part of my job, go out this weekend to a bar and kiss some guy to secure a deal with a production company, would that bother you?”

I pictured him, all smiles at another guy and kissing him, pretend or not, and my stomach twisted. Would it bother me?

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Hell yes, it would.

“No.”

He laughed. “You can’t lie.”

“Okay, it totally would. The thought of another guy kissing you bothers me.” I groaned and dug the heel of my left hand into my eye. “I have a vivid imagination, and you’d be wearing your blue and red Argyle sweater and have those little lines at your eyes when you laugh, and then you’d look at him, then he’d put his hands on you and lean in… And yes, it bothers me.”

“That was pretty detailed.”

“Like I said, I have a very healthy imagination.”

He laughed. “So I don’t have a problem with it because it’s your job. I know that. I knew it before I agreed to give this relationship a shot. But yes, it bothers me that some other guy gets to touch you. Even if it means nothing. I would never ask you to stop doing what you do, Spencer. Please tell me you understand that.”

“Sure.” The thought never crossed my mind to actually quit doing what I do. Financially, I didn’t even have to do it, but I enjoyed the people aspect of it. I loved the personal nature of the whole set up, and I loved helping people get their lives back on track.

“But it just means that if you ever do have to take some guy out on a fake date, you better make it up to me.”

Finally, I smiled. “Now, that I can do.”

“Should I be more specific?”

“Please do.”

“Well, I’m not opposed to fancy dinners.”

“Really? Food? You can make me do any one thing, and it’s take you out for dinner?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I was expecting something a little dirtier, to be honest. Like naked, full-body massages, or the most mind-blowing rim-job you’ve ever had.”

“Spencer!”

I laughed. “What? Believe me, if you’re gonna put in demands for me to make it up to you, that’s the kind of stuff you need to say.”

He scoffed. “Rim-jobs? Jesus, you can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“Not telling.”

“You so are,” I said with a laugh. “Which tells me one of two things. One, you happen to really like rim-jobs, or two, you’ve never had one. You’ve always wanted to know what it feels like, but you’ve been too afraid to ask.”