A Model Escort

by Amanda Meuwissen

  You’re not good enough.

  You’ll never be good enough.

  Owen heard the same mantra, and it infuriated Cal to be on the outside looking in.

  “He’d never been violent before,” Owen said, softer now, but speaking freely, “just broke me down, little by little, years of being only good enough for him to keep me. Then after he’d get upset and lash out and needed to apologize, suddenly I was the best thing that ever happened to him.

  “I’d been saving up the energy to give him an ultimatum for weeks. He’d gotten home late and was all over me. I said I wasn’t interested, that I wanted to talk, but he kept pushing, kept trying to touch me and shut down the conversation, so I said if he wouldn’t stop and listen then I was leaving.

  “He… g-grabbed my arm to keep me against the wall, said I couldn’t just leave. I told him I couldn’t do this anymore, but the more I struggled, the more things escalated—him yelling and squeezing my arm, me begging him to listen and let go. He shook me and twisted my arm like he didn’t care how much he was hurting me.

  “I finally wrenched out of his grip, pulling so hard, I tripped and dislocated my elbow because he wouldn’t let go. My forearm hurt worse, though. Stress fracture, I just didn’t know it yet.

  “He changed like a switch being flipped. All of a sudden, he was so sorry, swearing he’d make it up to me, like he always said, like he always lied. I don’t remember grabbing anything or leaving the apartment. It was a haze until I got to my sister’s.

  “Harry tried for weeks after that to talk to me, but Alyssa is pretty protective, and every time I wanted to cave, she asked if I really wanted to go back to him. I didn’t. I haven’t seen him since. He wasn’t my direct boss, so he couldn’t fire me. I worked from home until I left Orion.

  “It had finally stopped,” Owen said with more force, for once betraying anger more than grief or fear. “Then I moved and thought I could put all this behind me. Now he’s back, and I c-can’t….” But even anger dissolved into tears sometimes, and Owen sniffled as he pressed his face to Cal’s side. “I’m sorry. You smell so good, and I’m crying all over your suit.”

  Cal chuckled, forever caught off guard by how sweet this boy could be. “I’m fine. And you will be too. Do you want to skip tonight?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then how about we take our time getting you relaxed and ready, and at worst, we’ll be fashionably late?” Reaching with the hand not secured around Owen’s waist, he tentatively slipped his fingers up Owen’s forearm—the left arm he favored, which was obviously the one Harrison had hurt. It had to be a sign of Owen’s trust in Cal that he snuggled closer rather than withdrawing. “Would you like me to help you relax?”

  “I-I don’t….” Owen went rigid.

  “I mean a massage.”

  “Oh. That… that could be nice. Sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. Here. Face the window. It’s a nice night.”

  Helping Owen sit up, Cal guided him to turn toward the cityscape, giving him the chance to rein in his tears before they faced each other again. The tension in Owen’s shoulders was criminal. Harrison had done a number on him, in the past and in the past few days, using only a handful of emails to crumble the pieces of Owen’s self-worth that he had fit back together while rebuilding his life. The least Cal could offer was the firm press of his fingers—since he couldn’t drive to Middleton and punch Harrison Marsh in the jaw. Not tonight anyway.

  The impromptu massage was made all the easier by Owen already being naked from the waist up. He was the one who smelled divine, like fresh mint from his shower.

  “You are a remarkable man, Owen,” Cal said, circling his thumbs deeply along Owen’s shoulder blades and spider-walking up his neck. Every so often, the most delicious whimper would leave him. “Selfless, intelligent, beautiful. And so brave.”

  “Brave?” Owen repeated, then gasped when Cal found a stubborn knot.

  “You came to a new city, dropped yourself in the middle of the unknown with a whole new career and strangers all around you. That is brave. You’re also brave for leaving something that had gotten very good at drawing you back in.”

  Cal placed both hands on Owen’s shoulders and firmly squeezed, then worked down his arms. He could see Owen in the reflection of the window in front of them, dim and indistinct, gaze unfocused even as he stared at the city, but as young and fragile as he looked, there was something powerful in the rawness of him laid bare without his glasses.

  “Sometimes… I feel like I ran away,” Owen said.

  Cal ran once too, and he was happier for it. “Sometimes running is the brave thing.”

  There, at last, the stiffness in Owen’s shoulders began to dissipate. They drooped, his neck lolling comfortably as he relished Cal’s caresses. It was when he shifted how he was sitting to give Cal better access down his spine that the towel loosened at his hip, falling open to reveal a pale peek of naked thigh.

  If this were any other client, Cal would have taken advantage of the opportune moment, but Owen wasn’t any other client.

  “Better get dressed now,” he said, smoothing his hands up Owen’s back and patting gently at his shoulders. “Your towel’s come undone.”

  “Huh?” Owen glanced down, half dozing until he saw the exposed stretch of skin. “Sorry!” He twisted around to face Cal rather than grab the edges, which caused the towel to slip farther free, revealing the entirety of his thigh before he clambered to hold the cloth in place. As he looked at Cal with wide, clear eyes, regardless of the tears he’d shed, their faces were left dangerously close after all that scrambling.

  Cal’s hands had fallen from Owen’s skin, but he reached now to hold the boy’s cheek like he had their first night together. Scarlet colored Owen’s skin.

  “I sh-should… get ready.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Thank you,” Owen said, placing his own hand over Cal’s. “For listening. I won’t let him ruin tonight. You worked so hard to make sure I’ll look like a grown-up.”

  Laughter sputtered from Cal’s lips before he could stop it, and Owen tumbled into laughter with him. Both their hands dropped, and after grabbing his towel to keep it closed, Owen stood.

  “I’ll be quick. Fashionably late.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” Cal said.

  It was quick, considering the brief sound of a blow-dryer and the faint swearing at unruly hair, before Owen returned in his burgundy suit. Clean-shaven, stylish gold glasses in place, he was the picture of youthful decadence, while being entirely wholesome deep down—just what Cal had been going for to keep everyone at the fundraiser enamored.

  “Are those real?” Owen asked, as if he’d forgotten he meant to inquire about Cal’s glasses the moment he arrived.

  “I normally wear contacts, but yes. Not a fan?”

  “They’re wonderful,” Owen gushed, restored and alive with energy. “You look really good in them.”

  Jaw-drop accomplished yet again. “I thought I’d complement you better this way as part of your… payroll.”

  “As my publicist, you mean?”

  “Exactly. Shall we?” Cal offered his arm, which Owen took with a playful giggle. “Let’s knock ’em dead, Scarlet.”

  “Scarlet?”

  Shit. Cal hadn’t meant to say that. He’d never tripped up and called a client by their codename or vice versa, unless he was talking with Lara over private channels. “I… um….”

  “I like it!” Owen said, after his expression went from inquisitive to understanding to lighting up with delight. “It’s not wrong. Especially not right now.” He nodded at his scarlet suit.

  Cal never should have worried. Owen had started by surprising him and continued to again and again. “You’ll feel on top of the world tonight. I promise.”

  THE fundraiser was at Atlas City Gardens, the type of venue people booked for weddings. Owen was in awe the moment they stepped inside, easily ushered in since he was a premiere guest.<
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  The building was a several stories tall glass dome, like a greenhouse, filled with flowers and trees and currently lined with tables around an open space for mingling.

  The event itself was to raise money for a charity close to Walker Tech’s heart, the Society for Cancer Cell Gene Therapy. Adam raised money for all sorts of similar charities since that was his nanotechnology’s focus. He’d steered his company in that direction after his wife survived breast cancer.

  “Owen!” Adam pounced on them at the door. “Meet my wife, Teresa. And who’s this?” He turned immediately to Cal, who didn’t fumble for a moment.

  “Cal White, Owen’s publicist. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Walker.”

  “Please, call me Adam.”

  Owen was too flabbergasted by Adam’s whirlwind to shake Teresa’s hand properly, though he offered a weak smile when he realized how flustered he was being. “S-sorry, I—”

  “So nice to meet you, Owen.” She saved him. “Don’t mind Adam. He catches everyone off guard like that. Champagne?” She nodded at a passing waiter.

  Owen was thankful for alcohol in that moment. For as beautiful and large as the gardens were, the place was packed with people in every direction, leaving barely any room to breathe. He wasn’t used to being surrounded, no matter how fancy or vibrant the mob.

  “I didn’t realize you had a publicist,” Adam said, not suspicious, just inquisitive.

  “I’m not good at this sort of thing by myself,” Owen said; Cal’s lie was easy to maintain because most of what they told people would be the truth. “Everything will get so much more public and busy soon. I figured I needed the help.”

  “Smart thinking,” Adam said. “Enjoy the party, Cal. And Owen, just mingle and relax for now. I’ll find you when it’s a good time to spirit away our friend Ms. Nye.” He winked before disappearing into the crowd, pulling his wife along with him.

  Owen took a healthy gulp from his champagne.

  “Now let’s see….” Cal scanned the room like an apex predator looking for a thrill. “There are at least five people in my sightline you’d benefit from meeting. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll do all the introductions. You just have to smile and follow my lead. Ready?”

  It was like the first day of school, the first day on a new job, a blind date, and being at the wrong end of a shooting gallery at the same time. But Cal’s confidence and comforting grip on Owen’s elbow pushed down some of the warring nerves in his stomach.

  If he made a fool of himself, at least Cal was there to sweep up the carnage.

  “Ready.”

  Cal didn’t personally know any of the people they met, but he knew them by reputation, what circles they ran in, and where Owen’s work might be of interest. He insinuated himself so smoothly, drawing Owen forward to introduce him and picking up on sentences Owen dropped as if their playing off each other had been planned, overall making Owen feel so at ease that he was soon holding his own.

  Cal’s hand was always there to support him, at his elbow or the small of his back, replacing his champagne with a fresh glass or snagging him an hors d’oeuvre. He was so charming; everyone took to him and gave Owen their attention that much more because of it. No real publicist could have done better.

  Wesley was there with Keri, the type of event neither could afford to miss. By the time Owen and Cal circled the floor and happened upon the mayor and CEO, Owen was the one hurrying forward to make introductions.

  “I thought Owen was settling in better,” Wesley said as he patted Cal’s shoulder. “Good to see he hired someone. Would I know any of your other clients?”

  “More than likely,” Cal said but didn’t elaborate.

  The evening was a resounding success, especially when Adam timed his ambush to right when Owen was in Keri’s company and they stole her away, leaving Cal to chat with Wesley and Teresa. Cal hardly seemed put out in the company of the mayor and a woman who Owen had heard was on every nonprofit board in the city.

  They pitched their idea to Keri, with Owen apologizing profusely for going around her. He held it together, though, since he could back the plan with workable models, enough that even though she gave Adam a look like they were high school glee club rivals and he’d just hit a high note she couldn’t ignore, she agreed to a formal meeting the following week.

  “You’re more opportunistic than I expected, Owen. Nice job.”

  “Uh… thanks!”

  Adam insisted on getting Keri a stronger drink to celebrate, but Owen excused himself to rescue Cal—or so he said, even if he actually just missed the man’s company. It wasn’t as daunting making his way through the throng as it might have been when they first arrived. A few people who Owen had already met smiled, and some new people stopped him to introduce themselves but were quick to let him move on.

  Wesley and Teresa were being pulled in different directions when Owen spotted Cal, which spotlighted him in the aftermath of their departure, making it that much easier for Owen to take in how handsome he looked. The evening really was perfect.

  Until Owen saw Harrison over Cal’s shoulder, watching from afar.

  Terror spiked through his veins like a shot of adrenaline, halting his breath and forward momentum. But it wasn’t Harrison. It was just a man about his same age, height, and coloring, who happened to be looking in Owen’s direction. So much for sloughing off the man’s presence. He could be banished, though, and one day forgotten, Owen believed that, especially as his eyes met Cal’s across the room.

  “You okay?” he asked when Owen reached him.

  “Fine. The pitch went great. I’m just losing my mind a little. I noticed someone watching me and thought it was Harrison.”

  Cal peered over his shoulder to see who Owen meant, but instead of coming back with a smirk and a tale about how the man was another competitor of Walker and Nye hoping to steal Owen away, his expression went cold. “He’s not looking at you.”

  “A client?” Owen whispered.

  “Former, or I’d have kept that information to myself, but this one I don’t trust. I better head this off. Will you be all right?” He turned to Owen fully to cater to him first, even though he was clearly the troubled one this time.

  A minute ago, Owen would have believed he would be fine, but after seeing a ghost from his past who turned out to be a ghost from Cal’s, he wasn’t sure anymore.

  “Hey, Owen!” Frank’s voice cut through the din.

  Whirling around, Owen saw the tall, dark man approaching with a slighter, smiling man beside him.

  “I can finally introduce you to Paul.” He brought his husband forward. “See, not a figment of my imagination. He really is this handsome.”

  Owen had to laugh. “Hi! And here I was certain Frank was exaggerating. Nice to meet you, Paul.” The tension eased with Frank and Paul’s arrival, though the touch of Cal’s hand at Owen’s hip helped more.

  “Sorry to slip away, gentlemen.” He nodded to the pair. “Owen, I’ll be right back. Then you can introduce me to your friends. Okay?”

  “O-okay,” Owen said, but even though he mourned the loss of Cal, he was more worried for him.

  MERLIN stood beside an imported and impressive palm tree that had been cleverly hiding him from most people’s view. He was a stock trader by day, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing shady, or at least not any shadier than the other businessmen here. He was attractive, all things considered—expensive suit, sly smirk—and waited for Cal with that smirk in place while sipping on champagne.

  Of all the potential clients, past or present, who might have shown up tonight, Merlin was the only one Cal considered trouble.

  “The new blood’s cute, Calvin. A little young, though, don’t you think?”

  “Hardly the youngest on my calendar,” Cal said. The Godfather was twenty-two, and Piper wasn’t much older than Owen.

  Insinuating himself beside Merlin to keep the conversation private, with a wall at their backs and the large palm beside them, Cal and his unde
sirable companion had one of the better views in the room.

  “I hope your lawyer is in attendance,” he added as he watched the crowd.

  Merlin chuckled, hardly an easy man to intimidate. “Calm down. I’m not here to make a scene. I was invited.”

  “I’m sure you were.”

  “I’m hurt, of course, that you decided to end our time together. You were… exceptional.” He cast a telling gaze down Cal’s body. “But I understand. What I don’t understand is why you thought it necessary to blacklist me from the entire agency.”

  Cal reveled in the bitterness of the man’s tone. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Everyone I attempt to book is ‘unavailable,’” Merlin sneered. “I know when I’m being given the runaround. I’ve been flagged.”

  “There are plenty of other agencies in Atlas City. Pester one of them.”

  “I prefer yours.”

  “Pity then.” Cal looked at him sharply. “We’re rather full up these days.”

  The laughter from Merlin was menacing now, amazed at Cal’s daring. “You think you’re so untouchable because I signed a contract? Whispers are hard to prove but can be so damaging.” He looked out at the crowd once more, focusing none too subtly on Owen. “Especially when someone is young and uninitiated in these shark-infested waters.”

  “You don’t want to play that game, Sterling.” Cal used his name with venom. “That man is poised to be a far more powerful player than you could ever be, with very powerful friends.”

  Merlin stood unmoved by the returned threat. “It’s still early. Who knows what could make someone like that topple. But it’s adorable how protective you are.” He leaned in close to Cal with an intimate air. “Do you fancy this a date, Calvin? How sweet. But at the end of the night, you’re still a whore. You might forget that, but he won’t.”

  Cal didn’t get hung up on that word. He knew what most people thought, no matter how comfortable he was in his own skin. He didn’t care what other people thought of him. But as he glanced across the room to find Owen in the crowd, he knew there was one man’s opinion he’d started to care about more than he should.