“Boss.” Emory tapped the door frame with his fingers and gave Calvin an easy smile.
“What’s up?”
“I’m taking off.” Emory unbuttoned his suit coat. “I’m gonna go find your husband and try and talk some sense into him.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I know. I want to.” He shrugged. “I’m in this too, you know.”
“I know.” Calvin looked down at the divorce papers on his desk. He hadn’t moved them from when Emory had thrown them at him earlier in the day.
“You still set on that?”
“One way or the other,” Calvin answered, his lips turned down at the corners.
They were at a turning point, and Calvin was going to be divorced soon, whether he remained with Graham and Emory or found himself alone.
“Have a little faith, boss.”
“I know.” Calvin nodded. “I’ll see you when I’m out of here?”
“You got it.” Emory blew him a kiss and spun, walking toward the elevators without a look back.
Calvin returned his attention to the case he was working on, falling quickly into the monotony and the reliable nature of his job. Graham hadn’t ever understood why he enjoyed law. It wasn’t that law was easy, but it was black and white. Sure, each client may have gray areas, but the word was the law, and their interpretation of it wasn’t flexible.
Sturdy.
Reliable.
Expected.
Boring…
Calvin dropped his head into his hands with a groan, the bright snaps of pastel in the tie he’d taken from Emory’s drawer that morning catching his eye. He toyed with the textured silk and smiled, recalling the natural way they moved around each other as they dressed. Even though Calvin had gone in early, Emory had risen at the same time and made him coffee, doing his best to instill normalcy into their routine as Graham pretended to snore away on the couch.
“Can I ask you something?”
Calvin’s head snapped up and his eyes focused on a nervous looking Monica, hovering in the doorway. He gestured for her to come in and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“What’s up?”
She studied him, mouth open and ready to speak. She grimaced and closed the door to his office, twisting her hands together in front of her.
“It’s not like me to intrude, but…” She chewed her lip. “Is Emory the tie guy?”
“Excuse me?” Calvin instinctively smoothed a hand down his tie.
She gave him an exasperated look.
“I mean, I know Emory is tie guy.”
“How do you know?”
“He wore that one last week.” Monica tilted her chin toward Calvin.
He flattened his palm against his sternum in a useless attempt to conceal the fabric. Monica rolled her eyes, and he dropped his hand.
“Don’t worry.” She shrugged and scrunched her nose together. “I’m fake dating my college friend’s husband’s business partner. I’m not one to judge what kind of relationships people get into.”
Calvin barked out a laugh, and Monica blushed.
“That sounds complicated.”
“It makes things easier. Does being with Emory make things easier?”
Calvin sighed. “I’m not just with Emory.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“And is that easier?” A smile threatened Monica’s top lip.
“Depends on your baseline,” he muttered. “I love them both, though.”
“Is that mutual?”
He nodded.
“Makes sense.”
“What does?”
“Your husband is flower guy and Emory gets flowers too.”
“My husband doesn’t have exclusive rights to Edgewood florists,” Calvin laughed. “Does your fake boyfriend get you flowers?”
“My fake boyfriend leaves me alone.”
“How thoughtful,” he teased.
Monica glanced at her watch. “You haven’t worked this late in a couple months. Don’t you need to get home to your paralegal and your husband?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “Things are complicated.”
She exhaled dramatically. “That’s why my boyfriend is fake.”
“Debatable, Monica.”
She smiled at him, her eyes light with fondness.
“I am trying to get out of here.” He looked at the time on his computer. It was almost seven. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”
“I’ll let you get back to it then.” She reached for the door. “Please don’t say anything about my thing.”
“Your secrets are safe with me.” He crossed his heart.
“So are yours. With me.” Monica opened the door and squawked in alarm. “Zach.”
Calvin looked over Monica’s shoulder to find Zach in the doorway, hand raised and ready to knock.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked.
“No.” Monica smoothed down her skirt. “I was leaving.”
She slipped past him and Calvin listened to the click as her office door closed. Zach stepped into his office, uninvited, and closed the door behind him. Calvin looked at the clock again.
“Glad you’re still here.” Zach sat down. “There’s some things I’ve been meaning to speak with you about.”
Calvin’s pulse thrummed, and he pursed his lips, unsure if Zach had overheard his conversation with Monica or not. “What’s up? I was getting ready to head home.”
“You’ve been leaving early lately,” Zach observed.
“No. I’ve been leaving on time. I used to stay late. Now I don’t.” Calvin closed out his email program.
“That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Alright.” Calvin shoved his mouse away and focused his attention on Zach.
“I owe you something. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Pardon?”
“You secured the Edgewood estate for us. That earns you your partnership.”
Calvin’s stomach lurched. He closed his eyes and his face contorted into a grimace. Two years ago, he would have been jumping at a partnership. He hadn’t worked as long or as hard as he had to remain an associate forever, but now it seemed hollow. Not only had Zach offered it to him under morally questionable circumstances, being a partner meant more hours, more work…more time away from who and what mattered most.
“I didn’t secure it,” Calvin corrected. “Emory made the call on his own.”
Zach waved his hand dismissively. “You’re not turning it down, are you? We have the estate, you have your partnership.”
Calvin’s phone lit up on his desk, an incoming text message flashing on the screen. He knew it was Emory. Another text came in quickly after, then a third. He covered his phone with his hand, chewing at the inside of his cheek.
“I don’t want it,” he managed to say.
“Excuse me?” Zach’s eyes widened.
“I don’t want it.” Calvin stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket.
“You don’t want it,” Zach repeated.
Calvin scanned his office, eyes dancing over the few personal items he’d collected over the years he’d worked there. Beyond his law degree and three framed photos, there wasn’t much.
“I don’t want any of it.” Calvin folded down the frames of his diploma and wedding pictures, stacking them in his arms. He snatched his fountain pen from his desk—Graham had gotten it for him when he graduated. He tucked it into his pocket.
“What are you talking about?”
“I quit.”
“You what?” Zach stood up and squared his shoulders.
“I quit.” Calvin faced him head on. “I’m about to lose my husband for a second time because of this job and it’s not worth it. He is worth more than this. Emory is worth more than this.”
“What does Emory have to do with this?”
Calvin snapped his mouth closed, debating whether he should continue the thought or just let it ride, but h
is adrenaline was spiking, his whole body was hot, and his brain wasn’t ready to let it lie.
“I’m in love with him. My husband is in love with him. He’s trying to hold my life together and you’re offering me something that will just pull it all apart…something I don’t even want anymore. All you want is his name, his money. He’s so much more than that. And I am so much more than this.”
Zach stared at him, slack-jawed. Calvin gave him time to reply, but he didn’t, so Calvin offered him a parting nod and walked past him. He stopped at Monica’s office pushing her door open. He caught her with her knees bent, ear pressed against the wall they shared. She jumped up, cheeks red and eyes wide.
“I’ll miss you,” she said with a lopsided grin.
“I’ll miss you. But I won’t miss this.” He used his head to indicate the office. “Good luck with your fake boyfriend.”
“Good luck with your real boyfriend. And your husband.”
He smiled and turned, leaving Monica in her office and Zach still in his. Calvin rode the elevator down to the parking garage, pictures clutched tight against his chest. His phone had stopped vibrating, but he hadn’t read the messages yet.
Calvin unlocked his car and tossed the collection of frames onto the passenger seat and pulled out his phone.
Emory: When are you coming home?
Emory: It’s bad.
Emory: I need you here.
He didn’t bother to reply. He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and sped home.
When he arrived, the front door was half open, Graham and Emory’s cars both in the driveway. He parked alongside the curb and jumped out, leaving everything he’d collected from the office on the seat. He jogged up the walkway, finding Emory and Graham in the living room. Graham was standing, and Emory was kneeling, their hands clasped together.
They both turned their attention toward him when he arrived, Emory’s eyes ringed red, and Graham’s just looking tired.
“I’m home,” he panted, discarding his jacket and closing the front door.
“It’s nearly eight,” Graham said.
“Something came up.”
“Something always comes up.”
“Not anymore,” he assured Graham.
“I’ve heard that one before, Cal.”
Graham sighed and Emory stood up.
“Things will be different now.”
“I’ve heard that one, too.”
Emory smacked Graham on the arm. “You’re being combative. For no reason.”
“I think it’s best if we really just end this.” Graham pursed his lips and swallowed, eyes shifting up. A tear slipped from the corner of his right eye and he wiped at it, shaking his head. Another fell. He looked at Emory. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this.”
“I’m not caught up in anything.” Emory lifted his arms and used his thumbs to smooth Graham’s tears away, but his attempts were fruitless. The light of the room reflected off the dampness of Graham’s facial hair.
Calvin took a step toward them.
“I knew what I was getting into,” Emory whispered. “But I don’t believe this is the end of things.”
Graham closed his eyes.
Calvin reached them. He slipped an arm around Graham’s back and rested his head against his shoulder. His own tears fell, leaving a wet spot on the pale pink material of Graham’s shirt. Emory sniffled.
“You guys are making me cry.”
“I’m sorry.” Calvin wrapped his other arm around Emory’s waist and pulled him close, the three of their bodies pressing together.
The silence between them was thick. It hurt to be in this embrace, in this room, in this life. Calvin kissed the exposed skin of Graham’s neck.
“Please hear me out before you make a decision.”
Graham gave him a jerky nod.
“I know you think I’m boring,” he started to say.
Emory’s hand eased forward and tugged on his tie. “You’re not boring, boss.”
Graham scoffed.
“He’s not,” Emory protested. “Calvin is the one who agreed that he and I should meet you in the first place. Before he knew who you were. He’s the one who arranged our vacation. He’s the one who suggested we all move in together. He’s wearing color.” Emory waved the tie between their huddled bodies.
Emory was right, Calvin realized. He hadn’t necessarily made a conscious decision to try and not be boring. Emory inspired new life in him—made him want to be more, to be better. Not only for them, but for himself, too. And what did he have to show for it besides some colorful borrowed ties and an emotional disaster?
A laugh bubbled up and burst out of his mouth. It was ill-timed, he knew.
“What’s funny about this?” Graham grumbled, his hand coming up and twisting around Emory’s, around Calvin’s tie.
“Zach offered me a partnership today.”
Graham dropped the tie and shrugged out of their embrace. He turned his back, running his hands through his hair. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, turning again to face Calvin and Emory. Hurt was painted across his face, drawn deep into the age lines around his eyes and mouth.
“Perfect,” he muttered.
Calvin shook his head.
“I turned it down. It was…dirty.” He grabbed Emory’s hand, their arms stretched, but now connected. “He wanted me to bring your estate in. The offer was contingent on that, but you made the call on your own.”
Emory narrowed his eyes and tried to pull his hand away. Calvin held him tighter, feeling the mood in the room spiraling out of his control.
“I never told you because I didn’t want it for that. I didn’t want that for you. We’ll find you new representation if you want. Someone who truly has your best interests at heart.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Emory’s fingers wiggled against his palm.
“There was so much going on. With you selling, and the funeral…Carson holding up your money, and we were trying to find our way. I didn’t think about it.” Calvin pressed his eyes closed. “I was only thinking about you. Him. Us.”
Emory released a defeated breath.
“That doesn’t change anything, Cal,” Graham interjected. “I might have overreacted about you taking the phone call, but it’s still like it was before.”
“It changes everything.” Calvin looked at his husband. “I didn’t just turn him down. I also quit.”
Twenty-Nine
Graham
“You what?”
“I quit.” Calvin shrugged. A nervous laugh bubbled out of his mouth.
“That’s very…spontaneous of you, boss.” Emory walked closer and wrapped his arms around Calvin, who buried his face against Emory’s neck. Sliding his hands over the broad expanse of Calvin’s back, he glared at Graham over his shoulder before closing his eyes and leaning into Calvin. Emory whispered something and Calvin shook his head, pushing their bodies closer together.
“Why did you quit?” Graham finally asked.
Calvin’s shoulders heaved and he unfolded himself from Emory. He turned to Graham, his face red, cheeks swollen and tear stained.
“Because it wasn’t worth it anymore. Losing you.” Calvin shook his head. “I couldn’t do it again.”
Graham lurched forward, fisting Calvin’s shirt and yanking their bodies together. Their chests collided and his arms wrapped around Calvin’s back. He sobbed against Graham’s chest, his fingers grinding through his shirt into the skin at the small of his back. Calvin’s hands scrabbled around, scratching and digging, pulling Graham against him.
“I’m sorry,” Calvin said against his chest. “I love you. I love you.”
“Sssh.” Graham held him, squeezing his eyes closed. “It’s okay, Cal.”
Calvin shook his head.
“You two are hopeless,” Emory huffed.
Calvin startled and they both turned to stare at Emory, who shook his head and pursed his lips.
“It’s a wonder you e
ven made the decision to separate with how much back and forth you always do. Always talking and never listening.” He loosened his tie and waved toward the dining room. “We need to sit down and have a talk.”
Emory stalked off toward the kitchen and banged around in the cabinets, reappearing in the dining room with a bottle of wine and three glasses. He shoved a corkscrew into the wine and twisted until the cork worked free, then he looked up.
“Come on then.”
Calvin cleared his throat and wiped his nose with the back of his hand while he shuffled into the dining room. Emory poured him a glass of wine and tucked him into his chair, doing the same for Graham once he joined them.
Emory took a seat and shifted his eyes between the two of them, thoughtfully silent. He looked to Graham. “Tell me about the first time you met Calvin.”
Calvin poured half of his wine down his throat and stared at the table.
“I was twenty-three. In line for a concert. I can’t even remember what band it was now.”
“Triple Trouble,” Calvin mumbled.
“I saw him ahead of me. He wasn’t alone. He had a date, and the guy looked like a total jerk.”
Calvin scoffed.
Graham cleared his throat and washed his hesitation down with some of the wine Emory had poured.
“I watched him all night. Calvin, I mean, not his date, and he was so…I don’t know. Alive. He knew the words to every song. He had pressed his way up to the front and was singing along to every single song they played.”
Calvin looked up, eyes glassy. “I didn’t know you watched me.”
“All night.”
“You didn’t approach me until the end of the night.”
“I waited until I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you,” Graham admitted. He tapped his fingers against the table and looked away. His skin tingled from his admission and he found himself terrified to meet Calvin’s eyes.
“You never…” Calvin trailed off.
“Tell me about the day you two got married,” Emory interrupted.
Graham looked up and Calvin wiped his eyes with both hands, choking on a laugh. “It was awful.”
Secrets in Edgewood: The Complete Series Page 69