The Right Words (16 page)

“Uh, sure. Of course. I’m sorry.” Michael’s brow knit as he tried to figure out my sudden bout of overfriendliness. “I was telling Tonio how we met through Jamie, though not directly.”

“You never met that person before he came to the house? Before he sent the first letter?” Tonio leaned forward with his forearms glued to his mahogany desk. His gaze was shrewd, as though he dared me to lie to him.

“Oh my Gawd! I about died when I saw that letter! Didn’t I, Michael honey? I’ve never in my life seen something like that. I told him to call the police. I demanded it. That man is jealous. He must be. He saw me with Michael, and he knew his time was up.” I snapped my fingers for effect and bobbed my head to the side.

I wished Brandon was here. He would have been in stitches watching the act I was putting on. Who said I wasn’t a good actor? Or maybe it was my inner well of rainbow strength I was drawing from. Whatever the case, it was extraordinarily worthwhile just to see the expression of utter confusion on Michael’s face and blatant distaste on Tonio’s.

I smiled sweetly and waited for one of them to continue.

“You did not know him, Jamie, before then? Maybe you met him at a bar or something? Maybe he told you about working on the house before you met Michael?”

What a fucking asshole! He was so sure he had me all figured out. He was trying really hard to push me into the role of accomplice. I was seething inside, but I managed to shake my head no.

“I only met him the one time. He was menacing. Don’t you think, honey? First thing I thought, and I know this is just uncharitable, but I’ll admit it… why white jeans? It’s mid-September! I know this is California, but really? And then the letter.” I shrugged as though I couldn’t decide which was the greater crime. White jeans out of season or sending demands for money. “I just never would have guessed anyone would pull a stunt like that.”

Tonio said something to Michael in Spanish, which no doubt would have made me cringe if I’d understood. Michael bumped my arm and gave me a long, hard stare. The message was loud and clear though no words were spoken. “Knock it off.”

I smiled brightly in return and offered my own wordless “Hell no.”

“Mr.….” Tonio was obviously frustrated with me. He stood up and paced toward the floor-to-ceiling window behind him before turning back to face us.

“Luke. Just call me Luke. Everyone does. Michael calls me Lukey sometimes….” I paused to flutter my lashes again. “But Luke is fine.”

“Luke.” He took a deep breath, indicating his patience was running low. “This is a serious situation. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Absolutely, I—”

“No more talking, please.” He held up his hand as though to stop my flow of speech. “I want to say something. It’s important. Michael has a very important job. You know
fútbol
? Soccer? Only nod yes or no,
por favor
.”

I complied, then shifted in my chair, crossing my legs deliberately as I sat forward. I ran my right hand through my hair and set it on my knee, waiting for Tonio to resume a speech in a voice most people reserved for toddlers. At least I had their attention. Tonio and Michael both watched my every move. Tonio came around to the front of his desk and sat on the corner. The new position made it so he stared down at me. The message was clear.
I’m in charge here. Not you, faggot.

“If this Jamie takes these accusations and these photos to the press, Michael is done. His twelve-year career is gone. Over. All his fans, all those kids who admire him across the world. And yes, I mean the world. He’s played in many countries all over the globe. His fans… they will be very disappointed. They don’t want to know about his… private affairs. They only want to know about soccer. This could be catastrophic. Do you understand this? This is not a game, Luke.”

“There are other out socc—”

“No! No one cares about this! This team he plays for, these fans… they don’t want to know. Only the game matters. Do you understand?”

“I understand perfectly, Mr. Tonio. You want Michael to deny who he is to—”

“He plays soccer!” he thundered at me. “He… the rest is not important!”

I uncrossed my legs and shoved the chair back enough so I could stand up. I wasn’t going to give that toad the satisfaction of lecturing while hovering above me.

“I know Michael plays soccer, and you’re right to say who he sees privately is his own business. Except I don’t agree with how you communicate that last part. Denial isn’t the same as privacy, is it? I suppose that’s another topic altogether. My question is what do you want from me?” I let my hands do the talking with me and finally set them on my hips while I watched Michael and Tonio’s silent dialogue.

Michael sighed and stood next to me. “Come on, kid. Let’s go.”

“No. You asked me to come here. You said you were trying to decide a course of action without going to the police. Even though that is exactly what you should do. Would I tell you to go to the police if I were in cahoots with your ex? Orange is not my shade. I’m innocent.”

“I believe you, Luke.” He took my hands in his and stared deeply into my eyes. I couldn’t look away if I tried.

“He doesn’t. So now what? What’s your big plan? Can I even ask, or am I supposed to shut up and design like you’re paying me to do?”

Tonio said something in Spanish to Michael. Michael lifted his brow and made a funny face I couldn’t decipher before he leaned over to press a soft kiss on my forehead. I blinked up in surprise. But Tonio looked positively bowled over. He sputtered, but Michael spoke first.

“Stop. Both of you. Luke, I apologize.”

“Aren’t you going to tell him my idea?” Tonio asked.

“No, I’m not. We’ll think of something else. C’mon, Lukey. Let’s go.” Michael tugged at my hand and turned toward the door.

I resisted. “What? Tell me.”

“Luke.” Michael’s voice was full of warning.

“We recreate the photo using a woman and say he doctored the pictures for blackmail.” Tonio rubbed his pudgy paws together, pointedly ignoring Michael’s hand in mine. “Or maybe you put a wig on and be the wo—”

I gasped at the audacity of his suggestion. And to what end? Telling a lie to protect a lie seemed beyond desperate. I wanted no part of this.

“No, Tonio. Leave him out of this. I’ll think of something.” Michael’s hand was on the door handle when Tonio halted his progress with another small speech. Damn, I wished I hadn’t listened to Mara. I hated being so linguistically clueless. I tried hard to pick out a word or phrase I recognized, but the only thing he repeated more than once was a name. Alejandro. The rigid set of Michael’s shoulders was all the indication I needed to know the name was significant somehow.

I yelled out an overly friendly
adios!
when Michael grabbed my hand to leave. His long stride and brusque good-bye to the receptionist were telltale signs his parting words with Tonio had pissed him off. We flew through the office door to the elevators, where Michael stabbed at the buttons impatiently. I stood a couple feet away, leery of the tension radiating from him. When the elevator opened, he held the doors for me. I was as confused by his gallantry as I’d been by the heated words spoken in the office. Of course, the memory of the ones spoken in English was enough to keep my blood boiling. A wig? On me?

“You know, that was kinda fucked.” My voice had an edge I didn’t recognize. I looked across the elevator at Michael, who was tapping something furiously into his phone.

He glanced up at me warily before pocketing his cell. Then with a speed that took my breath away, he lunged for me. He pushed me against the back of the elevator and held me still with his right hand on my chest. I should have been scared. I’d been pushed around once before, and I refused to go back there. However, the fiery look of desire in his eyes gave me all the power. He wasn’t angry at me. Nor was he taking out his frustration on me. He wanted me.

A lazy smile spread across my face as I reached out to caress his cheek. He flinched slightly before capturing my hand and placing a gentle kiss on the middle of my upturned palm. It was a romantic and courtly gesture very much at odds with the tension almost visibly radiating from him. I’d tilted my head to ask… something when his mouth crashed over mine. He cradled my head before it hit the wall and took advantage of my gasp of surprise to plunge inside my mouth and glide his tongue alongside mine. I clutched at his shoulders for support as I leaned into his kiss to lick and bite at him lustfully. I wanted to climb him, lock my legs around his torso, and beg him to fuck me right here, right now.

Bing.

We practically jumped apart as the elevator doors opened to the garage level. There was no one in sight, but I noticed Michael furtively look about before he led the way to his car. I couldn’t read his expression, but he seemed as dumbfounded as me by our impromptu make-out session. I followed him to the car feeling light-headed and unsure.

When Michael opened the door to his car, I spotted his cane in the backseat and realized for the first time he hadn’t brought it with him. His gait was good, and though I’d noticed a slight limp, it wasn’t overt. I wasn’t going to bother asking why he didn’t take it. Meeting Tonio gave me a pretty fair idea it was all about machismo.

He turned to look at me as he revved the engine to life. “Why did you—? Never mind. Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

“Why? I literally have no answers to any question you could possibly ask me.” I was angry all over again. I had no place here. I needed to get out of this situation. Intrigue wasn’t my forte. “By the way… I quit.”

“Luke….”

“No. I won’t be a pawn for you to try to fool the masses. Deal with your issues your way. I have my own, and I’m starting to feel a lot more sane than—”

“I’ll answer any questions I can. I’m sorry. Tonio’s old school. His heart is good, but….”

My arms were firmly crossed over my chest. Certainly my body language told him where he could shove his apology, but in case he had any doubts, I told him.

“He’s a homophobic jerk, and you’re an asshole!”

“Fine. I probably deserve that.” He rubbed his thumb across his jaw and cast a wary look at me as he waited for the traffic light to turn green. “Let me buy you a drink. Are you hungry?”

My nostrils flared. It would take over an hour to get back to the house, and that was only if the traffic gods were with us. There was no point in pretending I wasn’t curious about what he had to say.

“I guess I’m stuck with you until I can get back to Orange County to pick up my stuff and Brandon’s car, so… sure, you can buy me a drink. But I choose the location, deal?”

“Deal.”

We drove up Santa Monica Boulevard, passing the Century City outdoor mall. Michael gave me a curious glance and asked if I wanted to go there. I shook my head and pointed forward. When we passed through Beverly Hills, I think he was beginning to get suspicious, but he didn’t say a word. Neither of us did. It was clear that whatever we had to say wasn’t going to be easily resolved in a fifteen-minute car ride.

As we approached San Vicente Boulevard, I instructed him to pull into a driveway on his right. A handsome young valet opened my door with a bright smile, welcoming me to Onyx, a beautiful bar and bistro in ultra-fabulous West Hollywood. Even though my mood had dipped over the past couple hours, I couldn’t help returning his grin. I loved this part of town. I felt like I was finally among my own people after a long, lonely drought. A glimpse at the rainbow-colored crosswalks as we’d driven through the major intersection before turning into the lot was all it took for me to let my shoulders down a notch and breathe. I didn’t have to pretend here.

Michael grabbed his cane from the backseat before leaving his car with the eager valet. The expression on his face told me he did not share my enthusiasm. He’d also evidently overexerted himself. He leaned heavily on the cane as he made his way to my side.

“Luke, there’s a coffee place next door. Do you wa—”

“No. I don’t. You get coffee if that’s what you want. I’ll be here.” I’d started toward the entrance when he grabbed my elbow.

“I can’t go to a gay bar. Not right now anyway,” he hissed.

I gave him a hard stare. I wished it could penetrate both our dark glasses and possibly knock some sense into him. “
I
can and
I
will. Come or don’t, Michael. I can get a ride to Brandon’s either way. But I will remind you, you did promise to buy me a drink and you said I could choose. I choose here.” I sounded like a high-maintenance diva, but I didn’t care.

I gracefully pivoted out of his reach and made my way toward the entrance. It was late afternoon and the natural autumn lighting made it easier to see and appreciate the design aesthetic of the bistro’s gorgeous interior. Giant branches sat on one corner of the sleek black bar with the black granite surface. The walls were a faux white-wash exposed brick along one side with a geometric damask black-and-white print anchoring the opposite end.

I was one of the few patrons at this early hour, so I chose one of the leather stools at the far side of the bar to keep an eye on the door. I wasn’t sure Michael would join me. He very well could have told the valet to give him his keys back. I was thinking I should probably text Brandon and ask for a ride. I’d pulled out my phone and set it aside to place my order when a gorgeous tattooed hunk asked what I’d like to drink. I ordered a cosmo with a flirty grin before reaching for my phone again, but then I heard a familiar gruff-sounding voice behind me.

“I’ll have soda water with lime, please.”

We shared eye contact for a strained moment but didn’t speak. When the tattooed hottie delivered our drinks, Michael pulled out his wallet to pay and gestured to one of the empty leather booths.

“Mind if we move over there? It’s a bit more private and I can stretch out my leg.”

“Sure.” I followed him across the deserted space to a semiprivate booth. I took a sip of my drink and studied him as he settled into the seat with the cane perched under the table.

“This is a nice place. It’s kind of weird to be in a bar in the daylight and actually see your surroundings.”