THEY’D taken a cab to the gala. Cal should find one now, get home, put this behind him, and figure out how to salvage what he’d ruined of his life. Dick had sighed at him in exasperation that morning when he came in with a client, saying he was leaving.
“Not for my client,” he’d explained with a gesture at the young man beside him. “I have my reasons, but before you jump down my throat for quitting, consider my replacement.”
Given Cal’s departure had been less heated than Rhys’s—and Rhys hadn’t left, just changed his type of clientele—Dick was reasonable about making an exchange for a new escort instead of losing one.
Maybe he’d be willing to take Cal back since it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours. Cal should call the office now, get ahead of this, whatever he needed to do as he escaped the building behind him and how Owen had been conning him from day one.
Cal blacklisted an unsavory client and in less than a week got a request from a new one who monopolized his time and never wanted more than a snuggle? How had he been so stupid? He’d given up everything for Owen, and it was all just some game between him and Harrison—and Merlin, with his camera and who knows how many videos they’d watched to get their kicks.
Scrounging for his cell phone, Cal thought to dial Lara or maybe even Dick directly just as two teardrops landed on his coat sleeve. No. Owen did not deserve this reaction, to have broken Cal so thoroughly, just because he’d been sweet and Cal had… thought….
“Cal, wait!”
I’m sure the universe’ll give ya a break.
“Cal!”
Yeah right. The universe was a bitch, and fate meant being the joke everyone else laughed at.
Scrubbing furiously at his face to hide the evidence, Cal kept walking, no destination in mind, just away from that voice and every lie that came with it.
“Cal, please! Stop! It’s not what you think!”
Even caught in the act, he thought he could swindle Cal again? Not a chance.
“Please,” Owen huffed as he caught up to him, not trying to touch—smart move—but staying close. He didn’t have his coat, just the tux, with the cool air making his breath come out as billowing puffs.
Cal ignored him, paused only a moment at a crosswalk on red, then continued forward once the light changed. He didn’t even know what street he was on anymore. The traffic, other people moving the opposite direction, Owen—it was all a blur.
“Talk to me.” Owen stayed in step with him. “Just talk to me, Cal. Let me explain.”
“This was all for Merlin.” Cal held his voice steady, staring straight ahead. “You are good, Owen. Booked me the same week I dropped him. I should have known.”
“No. I don’t know Merlin. I didn’t even know Harry knew him. You have to believe me!”
Another crosswalk, already on green, which Cal blew through and then took a sharp right to drive the point home that he wanted nothing to do with Owen’s schemes.
But Owen was persistent.
“I hadn’t seen that video until tonight, or any videos. Harry was trying to turn me against you, but seeing something like that could never turn me against you, Cal. He had me cornered. I didn’t want to kiss him. It was just… bad timing!”
“Bad—” Cal came up short at the sheer gall of Owen’s excuses, but when he whirled to face him, he faltered at the look of sincerity on Owen’s face, already chapped red from the wind.
A lie. It had to be a lie. A convincing act.
“I know what I am,” Cal said. “What I’ve been. People think they can use me, and why not? In their minds, I let others use me every day. Being used is how I make a living. But at least it’s on my terms. To think, the first person who ever made me feel like a whore, I’ve never even slept with.”
Owen reared back, so convincingly hurt that Cal waited for the waterworks, for the con to ramp up again, yet it was somehow worse that Owen’s eyes clouded, dampened, but he didn’t cry. “You don’t really believe I could think of you that way, do you?”
Damn. He was good. Too good. Too… believable.
Cal tried to back up, but there was an alley behind him, and he wasn’t sure which direction to go. Approaching footsteps made Owen’s head jerk to the left, where a shadowed man headed their direction. There were hardly any people around now, the streets very different from only a few blocks down where high society was enjoying a night out.
Snapping his attention back to Cal, Owen still didn’t shed any tears but looked resolute as he surged forward to grip Cal’s arms and pushed him into the alley. Cal would have fought back, pushed Owen in return, or at least wrenched his arms away, but he found his reflexes stolen by Owen’s touch.
“You don’t believe that.” His eyes carried potent emotion. “I know you don’t. You’re hurt, and all the evidence fell together the wrong way. But this is what I’m good at—building a picture out of the data, the real data, and you need the whole story to do that. Just like my models, telling me certain streets are more likely to see muggings. Like… this one, actually.” He scanned the narrow alley he’d pushed them down with a shred of trepidation. “Uhh… maybe we should—”
Cal heard the click before he noticed the shadow behind Owen, but it was the way his eyes widened that told him a gun had just been pressed to Owen’s back.
THIS wasn’t happening. Owen had spent months, years working out the data models to predict things like this, and he’d still walked into crime alley—literally. He could feel the weight of the gun in the press of its barrel against his spine.
“Ain’t you two dressed up nice?” the voice behind him said, playing at being friendly. “Get turned around leavin’ the party, hoss? That’s too bad. I’d be happy to give ya directions, but you’re gonna have to give me somethin’ first. Your wallet.” He jabbed Owen harder with a shift in tone. “Yours too, Wall Street.”
Cal raised his hands slowly, eyes glowing brighter in the dark as his indecision, anger, and grief washed away in place of fear while he moved to obey.
“Hurry up.” The gun jabbed Owen again.
“I-I don’t have my wallet.” His hands trembled as he raised them in kind. “I left it in my other jacket.”
“You wanna play that game?” the voice asked more dangerously just as Cal held his wallet out.
“I swear!” Owen raised his hands higher. “Please. You don’t want to do this anyway. Trust me.”
“Oh yeah?” Warm breath struck Owen’s ear with a humored puff. “Coz you’re some big shot, that it?”
Cal’s eyes screamed at Owen to give the mugger something, anything—the watch, he nodded at his wrist with insistence.
I know what we’ve been training for, Owen, but unless you can be 100 percent certain about a disarm, Lorelei’s voice broke into his thoughts, don’t try it. Just give your attacker what they want.
He should, wallet or no, but he hesitated to offer anything when he was poised to lose so much more.
“Because this alley is within a five-block radius of high recorded criminal activity,” Owen said as his trembling came under control. “With a publicized event occurring three blocks South, the ratio of police patrols is tripled from other locations around the city. If you fire that gun, there’s at least one squad car close enough right now to hear it. They’ll catch you in minutes.”
Laughter sounded from behind him. “You tryin’ to scare me with that techy talk? Not gonna happen. Play nice like your buddy here.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Owen,” Cal pleaded.
“Listen to your friend, hoss. You don’t wanna be a hero tonight.”
Cal’s eyes implored him with equal weight, but Owen couldn’t be sure if that meant he believed him or was just a good man.
“Sometimes running is the brave thing,” Cal said, calling on a private moment that made Owen smile with a shred of hope.
“I know.”
“Good boy,” the mugger said, assuming Owen was ready to listen. But as he reached over Ow
en’s shoulder to take Cal’s wallet, “Now—” Owen sprang into action.
Left hand coming up to catch the mugger’s wrist, his right reached back in sync to grab the gun arm, twisting his body in the same motion to point the gun at the ground in case it went off. It didn’t.
Pivoting the rest of the way around, Owen jammed his shoulder into the mugger’s chest, staggering him back, and peeled the gun from his fingers. The man had the mouth of the alley behind him as well as the street, while Owen held the gun and pointed it square at his chest. He gestured for the mugger to move against the wall, and just like that, Owen had control.
He owed Lorelei a drink.
“Sometimes running is the brave thing,” he repeated, “but tonight was not the night to push me.”
“Whoa, man.” The mugger’s hands shot up. He had on dark clothes, a sweatshirt with the hood up, but no bloodshot eyes like some junkie. “Hang on—”
“I don’t want to run anymore,” Owen spoke over him, but even as he kept the gun on the attacker, he shifted his focus to Cal. “And I’m not letting you run, either. I mean… if you still want to go after you hear what I have to say, I won’t stop you, but please, let me explain.”
Cal’s expression was as startled as the mugger’s. His arms dropped, wallet still clutched in his hand. “Owen, maybe you should put the gun—”
“You saw Harry kiss me while a video of you played on my phone. I know it looked bad, but that’s perception not the truth. Think of the data, the evidence. What about Frank and Paul? Lorelei and Tommy? My work. My home. Your signature is on every part of the life I’ve built here. Hours spent just the two of us for months. What probability, what outcome makes more sense? That this was all some elaborate plot to hurt you or just bad timing when once again Harry was trying to hurt me?”
The concern in Cal over Owen brandishing the gun melted in place of realization. “And I left you with him…. Owen, I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” Owen smiled in relief. “I just need you to know that I had nothing to do with that video. Harry sent it to my email and made me watch it. Your client must have given it to him. He wants to use it as blackmail or something, and Harry thought showing it to me would change my opinion of you. It didn’t. I’m sorry I watched it. I shouldn’t have. But seeing you like that didn’t make me think you were… low or less or anything but how I’ve always seen you.
“I don’t care that you’re an escort, Cal, but I also can’t deny that seeing you with someone else… made me jealous,” he admitted, bolstered by the small smile taking shape on Cal’s face. “I want to touch you like that. But only if you want me to, not because it’s business. I….” He could hardly believe he was about to say these next words, but he felt them and needed Cal to know, “I love you. And I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times—”
“I gave up all my clients.”
“What?” Owen blinked at him.
“I quit this morning. The clients I had scheduled this week? I didn’t sleep with either of them. I didn’t want anyone else to touch me when all I want is you.”
There was a moment where the whole rest of the world fell away and it was just them, inches apart with everything on the table, the arm holding the gun beginning to drop, and all Owen could think about was kissing Cal.
“While all this is fascinatin’”—the mugger spoiled the moment—“I gotta say—”
“You don’t get to talk right now,” Owen snapped, recentering the gun as he willed his arm not to shake from the strain of keeping the heavy weapon upright.
“I just wanna say”—the man held his hands higher—“it’s not loaded.”
“It…. What?” Owen pulled the gun toward him, then quickly pointed it back at the mugger before he could try anything. “If you think I’m that stupid—”
“I swear, man, just check!”
Owen shared an uncertain look with Cal, but when he had the gun and there were two of them against one man, the worst that could happen if the mugger was lying was that he’d bolt. So Owen pulled the gun in again and checked the magazine.
Empty.
“What is wrong with you?” He pushed the empty weapon into the mugger’s arms and smacked his shoulder for good measure. “Why would you do something like that?”
“You’d prefer it was loaded?” the man said, shoving the gun into the back of his jeans. “I wasn’t gonna kill somebody for loose change, all right. I’m just in a tight spot. Two hundred dollars short on rent, and my new job doesn’t start for a week. My daughter and I are gonna be out on the street, so I got desperate. You wanna scream for the cops now, be my guest.” He dropped back to lean against the wall, fully deflated from the confrontational figure he’d been portraying.
Owen considered what the man had said as the rapid fire of his pounding pulse diminished. “You only need two hundred?”
“Owen.”
“What?” He glanced at Cal with an innocent shrug.
Cal’s expressions had run the gamut tonight, but his look of exasperation was one of Owen’s favorites because it always seemed so fond of him too. “You are not giving our mugger cash out of the goodness of your heart.”
“I know,” he said, more forgiving now that the danger had passed. “I really don’t have my wallet. But on Monday the mayor’s office is going to announce a gun buyback program. I should have a card….” He started to pat down his slacks, then his suit coat, and finally found the small stack of business cards he’d brought with him. Selecting one, he handed it to the mugger. “Here. Go to the nearest precinct, show them my card, and tell them I gave permission for an early exchange. If anyone questions it, they can call me or the mayor directly.”
“The mayor?” The man accepted the card with a healthy dose of skepticism. “Shit, hoss, you really are some big shot, huh?”
“Not really. I just have good friends. Though make sure you show the card and explain everything before you pull the gun.”
“I ain’t stupid,” he snorted. “Though all this might point to the contrary. They really gonna give me cash for my piece?”
“I’ll make sure of it. The program is two hundred dollars per firearm. Maybe the universe is looking out for you.” Owen smiled and couldn’t help the way his eyes strayed to Cal again.
“That’d be a first, but I ain’t complainin’.” The man tucked the business card away and pulled the hood from his head. He had a wicked scar down his right eye, but his hair was neatly buzzed and his facial hair trimmed like he was usually more kempt. Not a criminal, just a desperate man taking advantage of so many other criminals moving through these streets.
Hopefully the various pieces to Owen’s police program would help do away with that and make things better for everyone in Atlas City.
The man gestured between Owen and Cal. “Whatever mess you two tryin’ to work through, good luck. He obviously ain’t someone you wanna let get away.”
Cal was less accepting of someone who’d tried to rob them, but he nodded as he finally put away his wallet. “I’m starting to remember that.”
JUMPING to conclusions wasn’t Cal’s way. He always took his time, checked every angle, planned, but seeing Owen with Harrison seemingly kissing, along with the video playing on Owen’s phone, had blindsided him, and he hadn’t been able to recognize the truth.
Owen was no con artist. Goodness was sewn into the lining of his skin, even enough for him to offer pity to someone who’d attacked them. Most people weren’t like that, but most people weren’t Owen Quinn.
A dangerous alley where they’d already been mugged once was not the appropriate place to share a kiss. They needed to get back to the gala. Owen would be missed, and someone needed to do something about Harrison and his ulterior motives.
Their would-be mugger walked with them the few blocks to the venue—real criminals were less likely to confront three men out in the open. When he parted ways with them, he gave his name, “Anton Ramirez,” and shook Owen’s hand.
Only Owen could have managed such an ending.
If he hadn’t been an integral part of the evening’s schedule, Cal would have whisked him away right then so they could talk, specifically about the three impossible words Owen had said.
I love you.
He loved Cal. And he’d said it freely. Owen was wrong; Cal did not hear that all the time. Normal clients didn’t think of him that way. In fact, Cal could count on one hand how many people had ever said those words to him, and one of them was his sister.
After giving his jacket back to the confused coat check attendant, they reentered the ballroom and scanned the area for any sign of Merlin—who appeared to have left—then Harrison, who headed toward them the moment he saw Owen.
Moving swiftly, they in turn sought out Mayor King. Keri stood at his side along with Adam and his wife. The two CEOs were preparing to make a speech about the joint venture and appeared thrilled to see Owen since they’d seen him rush out.
Owen wasted no time explaining why he’d run, all without implicating Cal in anything illegal. Harrison had ambushed him, admitted to starting the rumors about Owen’s character, and came here to pull Owen back into his clutches. While the collaboration with Orion Labs should move forward, Harrison’s involvement had to end.
Cal expected the fierce expressions Keri and Adam soon wore—he’d already seen how much the pair doted on Owen—but the mayor’s severe face was far more intimidating.
“I’ll take care of it, Owen. You just enjoy the evening.”
While Keri, Adam, and Owen ascended a small platform in the center of the room, the mayor’s bodyguards held Harrison back, ensuring he didn’t get anywhere near Owen, and escorted him from the ballroom without making a scene. For a moment, Cal wondered about those cement shoes he and Owen had joked about, but he doubted the mayor would go that far.
Watching Owen up there getting the attention and credit he deserved made Cal so proud. This phenomenal man loved him. And Cal knew as he looked on from the crowd that he loved Owen just as fiercely.
“He sure is pretty, I’ll give ya that.”
A Model Escort Page 17