by Tara Lain
Heat pressed behind his eyes. I wonder if Mark will come out of the closet—for someone else?
* * *
Mark read the text again. Again, for the twentieth time. Will you still be my boyfriend? Yes, yes, yes!
He’d expected to hear more about when Red would be home. When Mark could pick him up. But nothing.
Mark peered through the driver’s side window of the truck, but no matter how hard he stared, he couldn’t see any lights on at the Ridley’s. Mrs. Ridley must be gone. But where? She was never gone.
Only one idea made sense. She must be in New York with Red. Again, why floated across his brain. If Red really went for a party and then to do his first job, would it be typical to have his family there? Maybe it was like they showed in movies when kids went away to college. Worse, if Red wanted to come home, why did his grandmother go to New York?
The omnipresent feeling that something was wrong crawled along his nerves.
Hesitantly, he pressed the accelerator and the truck rolled down Arden Street.
Suddenly, a noisy wreck of car with no lights on squealed around the truck and raced to the stop sign where it rolled through and then took off at speed, the headlights flashing on.
Mark pushed the brake.
Gordat.
Clearly, Mark wasn’t the only one monitoring Red’s movements.
Mark’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. He wanted to stomp the gas, power after that fucking fucktard, drag him out of his car, and beat him bloody.
Yeah right. Excellent strategy. Still, he had to drop his head on the wheel and breathe to keep from following through.
Mark raised his head and stared in the rearview mirror. How are Gordat and I all that different? We’re both frigging stalkers. Maybe Gordat wants to hurt Red, but I still want Red for myself. And that hurts his chances for a big future.
Almost on its own, Mark’s head turned to the right. There was the house, the flickering of candles, the shadow of movement on the porch. Jesus, he could practically smell the tea.
After their last encounter with the whole hero’s journey bullshit, he’d sworn to himself he’d never go back. Now, it was the only thing he could think of. He tried to step on the gas, but his foot wouldn’t do it. Not a movement. The truck sat there and so did he.
“Shit!” He yelled it into the dark car. Then he sighed, turned off the engine, and opened the door. Nobody could tell him that frigging women wasn’t a frigging witch.
With as much attitude as he could muster, he stomped up her walkway to the base of the porch steps.
The whispering voice floated from the semidarkness. “Good evening, Mark.”
“Hi.” He took one step up.
“Are you looking out for our Red tonight?”
He shrugged and took the second step. “Yeah. I’m going to have to start filing tax returns as Red Ridley’s stalker.”
She chuckled. “Nothing but expenses and deductions I’m sure.”
He barked a laugh. That wasn’t something he’d ever expect to hear her say.
Her eyes gleamed. “Come have your tea and we’ll see if we can’t put some assets in the other column.”
That made him laugh full-on, so he took the final step and then walked to the rocker. The cup of tea steamed on the table beside him. When had she poured it to assure it would stay hot? Dumb to ask. He picked up the cup. Interestingly, it wasn’t the lime flavor she’d given him the previous time. It was cherry and it steamed up his nose and hit his brain like he was drinking happiness.
It almost worked.
Mark swallowed. “So why did you call me?”
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Where are you on your journey?”
He sighed very softly. “Ma’am, I mean no disrespect, but I’m not on a journey. Red is. He’s in New York, but he’s left me behind and I’ve got a business to run, so I’m not going anywhere.”
“Do you think he’s left you?”
He turned to look at her. “I don’t know. He said he wanted to come home. He asked if I’d be his boyfriend and I said yes, but he hasn’t come back and I haven’t gotten any more messages. Do you think he’s left?”
“No. Even the bravest of heroes can become confused in the wilderness of the world.”
Mark frowned. “Does this have something to do with why Mrs. Ridley’s gone?”
“Wolves at the door. Wolves at the door.”
“What?”
She leaned forward and looked right in his eyes. It was a pretty breathtaking experience. Intensely, she said, “Don’t accept another’s view, Mark. Look for yourself.” She shook her fingers in his face. “See the truth.” Then, as if she’d never said a word, she leaned back in her rocker, picked up her teacup, and sipped serenely.
Mark’s mouth opened—and closed. No use asking. She was done. Like with the frigging oracle that shared her name, he’d have to make whatever he could from her prophesy. He drained his tea. It was too good to pass up. Then he stood. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She blinked and smiled. “Oh. Yes, dear. You’re very welcome.”
“Bye.”
She just smiled and rocked.
At the bottom of her porch steps, reality settled on him like an evening fog. Look for yourself. What the fuck does that mean? He’d only driven by Red’s house a hundred times and eaten dinner at Mom and Pop’s about two hundred, just so he could “see the truth” about Red. Now what was he supposed to do?
Shit.
He got into the truck. Okay, if you’re looking for truth, where to?
He stomped the gas, and five minutes later, he pulled into Mom and Pop’s. It was close to closing, but he slid out of the truck and hurried inside. The staff were already cleaning some of the back tables, but a couple parties lingered over dessert and coffee, and a few stragglers sat at the counter.
Mark strode to the counter and slid onto his favorite stool. Pop was wiping the top. He said, “We’re closing soon, Mark, but I can get you something quick.”
Mark leaned closer. “Could I ask you a couple questions?”
“Uh sure.” Pop looked around, probably to be sure everyone was doing what they needed to do to close, then propped his elbows on the counter. “Shoot.”
“When Red left, uh, how did he seem?”
Pop shrugged. “Stressed and pissed. He didn’t want to leave so suddenly.” He made a face. “Actually, I kind of felt he didn’t want to leave at all, but you know, his gran has a big influence. He’s not a guy to disappoint the woman who raised him.”
“Yeah. She’s a great lady.”
Pop chuckled. “Lucky too. I hear this new job of Red’s might be getting them out of a jam.”
Mark cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
Pop shook his head. “Not sure exactly. Somebody told me Red’s gran got in some financial trouble. That was the only reason I didn’t fight harder to keep him here, even though I kind of thought he wanted to stay. I don’t want to spoil the kid’s chances to get rich.” He shrugged again. “Not if they need the money.” There was a crash from the kitchen. “Sorry, I gotta get back there.”
“Thanks, Pop.” Pop disappeared toward the noise in the kitchen. Mark looked around and met eyes with Kimmie. They didn’t really know each other, but Mark raised a hand to her.
She smiled tentatively and walked over. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You know he’s not here, right?”
“Yeah.”
She blinked. “Well duh, sorry. Of course you know. He was really upset. He wanted to go on your date a lot.” She put a hand on his arm. “Not many people know about that. I’m just—”
“His best friend, I know.”
She nodded.
“Uh, did Red happen to tell you about some kind of problem, like financial issue that he’s having? Or his grandmother?”
“No.”
“Oh okay.”
She shifted from one foot to the other and glanced back at the busy r
estaurant where her pals were cleaning up. “I mean, he didn’t tell me anything, but I heard from somebody else that there’s some issue about their house.” She looked back at Mark. “It might not be true, since Red never said anything and he handles all their finances, but rumors circulate fast in his town.”
“Do you know why Mrs. Ridley went to New York?”
“No. I didn’t know she did.”
She looked antsy to get back to work, so he said, “Okay, thanks.”
“You’re worried about Red, aren’t you?”
He stared at her.
“Me too.” She wiped a hand over her face. “He was just crazy trying to decide what to do. He didn’t want to go, but he didn’t want to disappoint his gran either.”
“That’s what Pop said.”
She whispered, “I’m afraid Red’s in over his head.”
Well, fuck. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Are you going to go get him?” Her eyes brightened.
Mark shook his head. “I can’t, Kimmie. I’ve got to run the garage. My guys are good, but they’re not used to being in charge of stuff.”
She nodded, but the crease popped back between her eyebrows.
“Besides, he hasn’t asked for help.”
She looked up from under her lashes. “Did you ask him not to go?”
He frowned so hard his head hurt. “How do I have the right to do that? Hell, what can I offer him compared to what they’re going to do for him in New York?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did you at least tell him you wanted him to stay?”
“Not in those words, but I did tell him I wanted him.” The breath he let out had a bitter sound. “He didn’t reply.”
She sighed. “If you don’t know what you can offer him, I guess I can’t tell you.” With sagging shoulders, she walked back into the kitchen.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Over their scraped dinner plates, Gran and Brock talked animatedly like old friends, with Gran gushing over the excitement of Red’s potential future.
Red pushed most of the food on his plate around and thought about participating in the conversation. He wanted to. Kind of. He sighed softly. In truth, he couldn’t have cared less. He reached for the champagne glass again.
Gran put a hand on his arm. “I know it’s all new and exciting, dear, but don’t drink too much. It’s dangerous stuff.”
Brock barked a laugh. “Let him drink, Nora. I’d rather he was a bit under the weather when we discuss the contract.”
Red looked up and their eyes met. “Do you have it?”
Brock patted the lapel of his $3,000 suit. “Right here.”
Red patted the pocket of his black jeans that he’d insisted on wearing, against Gran’s objections. “Me too.”
“Shall we, uh, discuss it as we wait for dessert?” His white teeth gleamed in the dim light.
Red wanted to yell no, jump up, and run all the way back to Ever After. He glanced at the room full of people, laughing, eating, and drinking. Places like this would be in his life all the time now, until they were just-your-regular. Maybe he’d stop being excited over a date at the Embers. Maybe he’d stop being heart-broken over Mark. The word yes flashed in Red’s mind. Yes. Yes, he’d never find someone else he loved like he loved Mark. Yes, he knew that entering this life meant leaving his sweet, small dreams. It meant leaving Ever After forever. “Sure. Why not?” He fished the marked-up contract from his pocket and glanced at it.
Gran smiled but looked worried.
Truthfully, Red didn’t even want to negotiate. Who gave a fuck? But if he had to do something he didn’t like, he sure as hell was going to get top dollar for it. Besides, Gran needed the money. He smoothed the paper on the tablecloth.
Brock’s eyes widened as he saw the red marks. “Oh really?”
Red said levelly, “I told you I’m good with numbers.”
Brock leaned back in his chair. “Go for it.”
“I want a fifteen-percent agency commission, not twenty.”
Rock scowled. “Non-negotiable. You’re an unknown. Twenty is industry standard.”
Red narrowed his eyes. “Not for top models, which you insist I already am. If I’m as good as you and Gran say, then you’ll make a lot on the fifteen. That’s fifteen from the client as well and I want five from the client.”
“What the fuck?”
Gran looked stunned but said nothing.
Red flipped his hair from his face. “Let’s face it. I’m not interested in doing this unless it makes me a boatload of money. I don’t care about being famous or admired or the apple of anybody’s eye.” He smiled tightly. “So, either you make me big. Huge. Or I go home. If you make me big, then we both make out.” Red closed his mouth and stared at Brock.
“Fifteen on agency but nothing on client.”
Red shook his head. “Sorry. That whole ‘charge the commission twice thing’ is the biggest load of crap I ever heard of. I don’t know why the FTC lets agencies get away with it. Not me. If you make money, I make money.”
Brock looked angry and a tiny bit admiring. “You little shark.”
“In exchange for that, I’ll give BrandFace an exclusive contract, for three, not five years.”
“Mother agency.”
“Not a freaking chance.” Red glared at Brock. As if he’d let BrandFace keep a part of everything he made forever. Fuck that. Red’s stomach heaved. He wanted to quit. “Look, Gran’s tired and so am I. I’ll meet you early tomorrow at Brandface. You can decide tonight if it’s worth it to you. If yes, I’ll sign in the morning.” He chugged the rest of the champagne in his glass and pushed back his chair.
Brock gave a half smile. “No dessert?”
“You can eat mine.” He held out a hand to Gran and she took it, but boy did she look scared. Tucking her hand under his arm, he walked out of the restaurant. When they got to the street, he said, “I sure hope you’ve got cab fare, because otherwise, I’m gonna look really dumb.”
“Redmond!” She managed to laugh and dug in her purse.
* * *
Red pulled his knees up into a seated fetal position, laid his head on the back of Elbey’s couch, and stared into the dark. Turning on the lights was sure to wake someone. Most of all, he wanted to hear Mark’s voice, but what could he say to him? Hi, Mark. I’m a fucking coward, but I have to take care of Gran and I know I can’t ask you to wait for me for three years and I’m so scared I’ll be forever changed in ways you won’t like—and I won’t like and…
Red raised his head. Was that a knock on the door?
He stood, padded to the door, and peered through the peephole. What. The. Fuck.
Red opened the door to Brock who leaned against the doorjamb. He flashed those white, white teeth and his blown pupils consumed his dark eyes. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here? Everyone’s asleep.”
“Obviously not everyone.” He stroked a finger across Red’s cheek and Red yanked his head back.
Brock grabbed Red’s wrist. “Don’t be like that. Come on.” He shrugged. “I’m not usually so, um, insistent with my boys, but you just do it for me.”
“Sure, you want me until the next pretty face comes along.”
“Umm. And such a pretty face it is.” He caressed Red’s face with his other hand, which brought him closer.
“Back off!” Red stepped away.
Anger flashed across Brock’s face and then faded. His hard grasp on Red’s wrist turned into a caress up Red’s arm. “We can do great things together. I’ll make you the most famous male model on earth, we’ll solve your grandmother’s financial issues, and we’ll have a great time in bed.”
Red narrowed his eyes and pulled his arm away. “What do you know about my grandmother’s issues?”
“Umm, maybe she confided just a little.” He held up two fingers and made a small space between them. “She likes me. She understands how good we can be together.”
“My grandmother just wants me t
o live her dream and be rich and famous. She doesn’t know you want to fuck me.”
Those eyes bored into Red’s, and Red shivered. “But you know it, don’t you? And you know that the two go hand-in-hand.” He held up the two fingers again, side by side and pressed together. The ugly side of his handsome/ugly face showed through. “You know that while I know I can make a great deal of bank off of that face, I’m not totally motivated by money. I enjoyed our little sparring session at dinner. It turned me on, actually. But bottom line, if I don’t get what I want, you don’t get what you want and your grandmother loses her house.”
If a snake had risen in front of him, Red couldn’t feel more icy fear. Had he really believed Brock wanted his face so badly, that he’d give Red his way? What a stupid fool.
Brock smiled coldly. “In fact, I’m sure I can find other ways to make her life miserable.”
“You fucking asshole.” Red’s hands trembled with the desire to smash Brock in the face.
“Mmm. Well, it’s your fucking asshole we’re discussing, isn’t it?” He glanced at his manicure. “I will, in fact, sign your little redlined contract—” He snorted. “Redlined! That’s funny actually. Anyway, as I say, I’ll sign it just the way you altered it. I’ll even give you an advance to pay off the mortgage payments that are in arrears and get Nora off the hook, stupid idiot that she is. In return, you come home with me now, let me fuck you tonight and every night I feel like it, and I make you rich and famous. How does that sound?”
Red’s brain screamed, Gran doesn’t want me to give up everything to save the house. But what else would Brock do? Still, the word burst out. “No.”
“No?” This time Brock’s anger wasn’t even controlled. He grabbed the front of Red’s sweatshirt and yanked until they were face-to-face and the smell of his champagne breath filled Red’s nose and brain. “You seriously think I won’t do what I’ve promised, you little prick? You’re a small-town hick with small-town vision. Making you rich is too good for you, but it will make me richer, so it’s worth it. If I get what I want.” He released Red and wiped his hands together. “This is the way of the world, little boy. Money and power own beauty just like I own you.” He stepped back. “Put on your shoes and coat and get ready for the night of your life.”