by Holley Trent
“You don’t look harmless. You look like you’d drag me into an alley to exsanguinate me.”
Bruce grinned. That was a good one. He hadn’t heard that one before.
Unfortunately, Raleigh looked like he’d meant it. “How about this? Get out your cancer box and text a friend where you’re going. If you don’t turn up, they can send in the SWAT team.”
“Give me the address.”
“Really?”
Raleigh nodded and, as Bruce had instructed, took out his phone.
Bruce rattled off the address and watched him tap it into an open text dialogue. He didn’t wait around for him to send the message. He was already headed toward the stairs and motioning for Raleigh to follow.
He usually didn’t like going home. He hated being there, where the only noise was noise that he made and nothing talked back.
Solitude was demoralizing, but he didn’t have a choice. He could surround himself with people whose sole interest was in squeezing the joy out of him and calling it art, or people who wanted him to write checks for this thing or that thing, or people who wanted to fix him.
Nobody wanted to just talk to him or hold him or fuck him just for the fun of it.
Why would anyone want to go home to nothing night after night?
Chapter Four
“He never responds. Drives me freakin’ insane,” Everley murmured into her bourbon and cola.
Across the bar booth, her friend Lisa gave her one of those slow nods like she’d heard it all time and time again and she was bored with the complaints.
“Okay.” Everley set down her glass and straightened her spine. “I’ll stop complaining about him.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s just that—”
“Nope, nope, nope.” Lisa wagged a finger in front of Everley’s face and then pressed it to Everley’s lips. “Shhh. Peace. Be still.”
“But—”
“Find a new obsession.”
Everley nudged her hand away and harrumphed. “I’m not obsessed.”
“You’re obsessed.”
Okay, maybe a little.
Everley liked what she liked. Unfortunately, with all the fish in the metaphorical sea that was New York City, she’d developed a thirst for the one who always showed up for work meetings a minute after she did so she couldn’t sit near him.
She didn’t think that slight was entirely in her head. She knew how things must have looked for him. Her father was a major stockholder of the media company that owned Athena and also a vice president of the publishing house. His grandfather had discovered early bestsellers for the house, and so he’d gone into the business with gusto, the same as his father before him. Everley’s parents expected the same enthusiasm from her.
Unfortunately, she didn’t possess it. She’d tried, but couldn’t muster it up.
She’d dropped plenty of clues as a teenager and college student, or at least thought she had. She’d thrown herself into mathematics because that was as far away from publishing and media as she could get.
But despite her noble intentions, she’d still landed there.
One night over dinner with her parents, she’d had a moment of weakness and said too much. “No one’s hiring. I need to work.” The following Tuesday, her father had escorted her into an office at Athena that already had her permanent name placard on the door.
She’d told herself it was temporary and that she wouldn’t get comfortable.
Only the first part was a lie.
At some point, she’d have to tell them that she wouldn’t be trying to advance through the ranks. She didn’t want to be a publisher. No one had ever really asked her what she wanted to be, except Lisa. They’d all just assumed that she wanted to have a part in that legacy.
Selfish or not, she didn’t. She still wanted to play with numbers, and troubleshoot why small businesses didn’t thrive. That was her dream, but Shannons didn’t deviate from the plan, even if the plan was someone else’s. “You were raised for this,” her father always said.
It was too late to wish for a sibling. Maybe they would have been born with the right heart for being a cog in a big, expensive machine.
“I get it,” Lisa said, waving for the waitress.
Jalapeño poppers and two-for-one cocktails were their Wednesday-night tradition. It was the day Lisa emerged from her off-the-grid western New York retreat and rejoined civilization for a while.
“I mean, he’s easy on the eyes, I guess.”
“You guess,” Everley said, deadpan.
Lisa shrugged. “Not really my type. And I think you need to learn to develop crushes on men who aren’t mean to you.”
“He’s not mean to me. He ignores me. You know why. Everyone at Athena does that unless they absolutely have to talk to me. They don’t trust me.”
“All the more reason for you to move on, in my estimation.”
Sighing, Everley grabbed the bill before Lisa could attempt to pay it. Lisa’s start-up business was in its infancy. She rarely even paid herself yet. For the time being, Everley could certainly afford drinks and appetizers. Eventually, the well would run dry, but still, there were some perks to being a trust fund baby.
“I just think we could click. That’s all. We could bond over our pushy fathers.”
“Maybe. I think he’s too old for you, though, so maybe it’s a good thing he treats you like Casper.”
“I’m nearly thirty.” Everley grimaced. That meant she’d been working at the company for seven years, and a year of that had been in the mainstream fiction imprint. Seven years going through the motions. Seven years wasted.
She hated herself for it, more and more by the day.
“How old is too old for nearly thirty?”
Lisa shrugged. “For all I know, he could be thirty-one, but he’d be an old thirty-one.”
“That makes no sense whatsoever. How is someone old for their age?”
“I can’t explain to you what I can’t even explain to myself. He just is. I can sense it.”
“You’ve only met him once—at that company cocktail party last year.”
“Once was enough. At first, I thought he just had a stick shoved too far up his ass. That may still be true, but that’s not his only issue.”
“Conversations with you are always so enlightening.”
Lisa flicked the ends of her dreads and gave Everley the same dark-eyed “Oh, sweetie” stare she’d been giving her since their freshman year at Columbia. From the very start, Lisa had been helping her unscrew her head from her ass.
“Fine,” Everley huffed. “I won’t bring him up again.”
“I believe you.”
The waitress swooped over and grabbed Everley’s credit card.
“You won’t bring him up, but I’m sure I’ll have to because you’ll be sad, and I’ll have to ask you why.”
“I’m not sad!” Everley huffed. “Just frustrated.”
“I know. I know. You’re used to having people pay attention to you without having to work so hard for it.” Lisa counted off on her fingers. “You’re pretty, you’re smart, you’re rich, and you can crochet the hell out of a poncho.”
“Making fluffy things out of acrylic yarn isn’t really much of a draw. It’s therapy. My therapist told me to either take up yarn work or exercise to shut down my self-deprecating thoughts. I chose to get back into exercise, but I broke my ankle getting out of the cab right in front of the gym. Remember that?”
Lisa nodded. “Signs are all around us.”
“Yeah. Spare me the bougie fairy wisdom. I’m not that drunk.”
Everley scribbled her signature on the credit card receipt and pushed away the cash Lisa attempted to foist on her. “I’ll get back on that dating app and find a glacial redhead to go out with. Maybe that’ll turn me off on
ce and for all.”
“Solid thinking, Ev.” Lisa bumped her with her hip as they started through the packed bar and toward the exit. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll find someone you actually like. Maybe a nice foreign guy who’ll sweep you off your feet and insist that you have to move to the Seychelles with him. Certainly, your father could understand you quitting the Shannon publishing dynasty for true love.”
“If you truly believe that, you must have missed all that coursework about European aristocracy in college. Money and power are always going to trump love for some people.”
“You think you could fall in love with Raleigh?” Lisa asked, chuckling.
“I’m not looking for love,” Everley said. “My life is a mess and I’m perpetually unhappy with myself. I just want to be liked.”
And possibly be adored while naked, but she didn’t think that needed to be said aloud.
Raleigh was never going to see her naked.
He did a damn good job of not seeing her when she was fully dressed.
If only things could be different, she wouldn’t have to try so hard to make her coworkers believe she was operating in good faith. If she were them, she’d feel the same exact way.
Her therapist had told her to just pick a time to leave and make a plan.
She wasn’t ready yet, but every cynical response from her coworkers—or lack of response, in the case of one in particular—pushed her closer.
She wasn’t a failure. She’d never been meant for the work.
For whatever reason, she never seemed to remember that when she needed to.
Chapter Five
Like hell was Raleigh going to broadcast his whereabouts to Stacia. He pretended he’d reached out to someone just to keep Theo honest, but he didn’t really want to have to explain to his friend of so many years that he was late because he had a particular kind of itch to scratch.
He was getting more and more curious about the person he’d be scratching that itch with as their taxi crawled into an exclusive, upscale neighborhood.
Theo peered out his window and fidgeted with his coat buttons.
Raleigh watched the meter. “Sorry to ask, but, are we going the right way?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I see, and...” He glanced at the expensive abodes they passed and wondered how anyone could afford to live there. Those houses made Buckingham Palace look like a kid’s school project. Theo claimed to be wealthy, and certainly had the footwear as evidence, but Raleigh knew how easy it was to make people believe what they already wanted to. Politics had taught him that.
“You somehow have access to this place,” he murmured, choosing his words carefully.
“Yeah. Still haven’t decided if I’ll keep it.”
“The access?”
Theo turned to Raleigh in a hurry, black brows shooting up over the rims of his sunglasses. “No, the house. You think I should keep it? You know anything about investments?”
Raleigh made a concerted effort to correct the sudden rictus on his face. Just that morning, he’d been pondering the splurge of getting his shoes polished. The man beside him apparently didn’t care about such trifling expenses. He had unicorn boots and disposable houses.
“Investments?” Raleigh scoffed. “In general, I let someone else handle those for me, not that my assets are all that astounding. I’ve got a bit of spare change put away for retirement and a couple of stocks that I watch. That’s pretty much it.” He could probably do better if he got a roommate to split living expenses with, but the idea of sharing a shower with a person he wasn’t sleeping with made him shudder.
“Is it fun?”
“Is what fun?”
“Tinkering with it. The money, I mean. Making everything work. Trying to grow it.”
Raleigh crossed his legs toward Theo and gave his chin a considering rub. “Such an odd question. I’ve honestly never given that any thought.”
Theo leaned closer, forearms to knees, dark lenses obscuring his complete expression.
Raleigh needed to see it. He wanted to slide the frames off Theo’s face and see all of its respective components in one composition. Eyes and cheekbones and lips. Not enough to ask, though. In a way, he was enjoying the mystique. The mystery was fun without being dangerous.
“I’ve never had to worry about it,” Theo said. “Tinkering, I mean.”
“Lucky you. Most people are one missing paycheck away from disaster.”
“I know. I don’t forget. I’ve seen it.”
“Where? On some film you’ve watched on your home theater’s jumbo screen?”
“No. In life. Grew up in a quiet place. That was how my nan phrased it. Quiet, not poor. Nan didn’t have money.”
“But you do.”
“I get it from the other side.”
“I see.”
“She wouldn’t take my money until I told her it was her pay. She deserved it.”
“What’d she do for you?”
Yet again, Raleigh didn’t think he was going to answer. Theo had leaned away from him and pointed his stare out his window. He twirled his rings around his long fingers. Bobbed his knee. Rhythmically clucked his tongue for an age.
His posture was tense, jaw tight.
Raleigh reached for Theo’s wrist in apology. He knew that at times, he was too blunt, too frank. He didn’t know this man, Theo, and hadn’t wanted to offend him—especially not when he was already so invested in figuring him out. He wasn’t like anyone Raleigh had ever met, and that was refreshing. He was too used to people being predictable.
And terrible.
He was sick of terrible people.
“What didn’t she?” Theo finally said, not looking away from the glass.
Raleigh retracted his hand and slid it into the pocket of his slacks. Theo didn’t seem like he would have minded if Raleigh left it there, but he was still a stranger. There were proprieties to be observed.
“She’s why I can fool most people into thinking I’m all right.” Theo grimaced. “At least for a bit. Do you think I’m all right?”
Another odd question, and there was no simple way to answer it. It seemed important that he try, though. Theo had asked from what seemed like a place of genuine need, and Raleigh did have a heart. People just took him for granted too often for him to reward them anymore.
“So far, you have me intrigued,” he said carefully. “That’s nearly an impossible feat.”
Theo grinned, but still didn’t turn. Raleigh could see the sides of his cheeks bunching up.
“It is?” Theo asked.
“I’m quite discriminating lately.”
“And I won. I got you to go.”
Coming from anyone else, the words might have sounded boastful and cocksure. From Theo, though, there was a glimmer of awe as though he were stunned he’d managed it.
It was a refreshing change from Raleigh’s usual interactions with men.
“Just up here,” Theo told the driver. “Drop us at the gate, yeah? No need to pull in.”
“If you say so.”
Theo flung some cash at the guy without counting it and pulled Raleigh out of the car. “Come on.”
He was inputting the gate code before the cab had even driven off.
Raleigh noticed that the guy was taking great efforts to lean and watch Theo interact with the box, so Raleigh put his body between them to block the sight. “You could be a little more careful,” Raleigh said with a laugh.
“Hmm?”
“He was watching you.”
“Yeah, they do that.”
“Who’s they?”
The lock clicked. Theo pushed the gate open and nudged Raleigh through. After it’d closed, he tugged him along at a speed Raleigh hadn’t tried to approach since that time he’d thought he’d left his phone in a Yellow
Cab. He’d been wearing better shoes on that day.
“Christ,” he panted. “What’s the hurry?”
“Want you to see it. I got you to come out here, so you may as well see it.”
“See what?”
“I’ve got keys somewhere.”
“To...the house?” Raleigh had to detach from him and double over to catch his breath. He didn’t pretend to be in shape. The reason his clothes fit as well as they did had more to do with his forget-to-eat diet than mindfulness or exercise. He was trying to do better, but finding the time to get to the gym was difficult.
“Yeah, I think I... Oh!” Theo grabbed his arm and got him moving again. “I know where they are this time. Couldn’t put them in my pants.”
“No, I imagine you couldn’t.” Raleigh couldn’t be certain how Theo had even gotten his legs into those slim-fitted pants. It was a look Raleigh had never tried to pull off, but it suited Theo’s lean build extraordinarily well. He wore his clothes; they didn’t wear him—not even that grungy coat.
Finally reaching the side door of the massive stucco estate, Theo shoved his hand into the backside of what was, apparently, a hollow statue of Venus. Out of the goddess’s ass came a duo of keys.
Theo picked one and attempted to slide it into the lock.
“Nope.”
The other fit.
“Success!” he trilled.
“Your surprise worries me,” Raleigh said, even as a laugh escaped him.
“Worries most people.” Theo tossed the little key ring on the counter and moved Raleigh along. “I know a place.”
“A place to—”
“Not up here. Too open. Too many windows. Can’t stand the windows. Makes me feel like they can all see.”
Raleigh didn’t have a chance to see the windows or much of anything, really. Theo had led him to a carpeted stairway leading downward. Normally, he might have thought, danger, dungeon down there! but his overactive curiosity had diluted whatever sense of self-preservation he might have had. He was spawning more and more questions about Theo by the minute. He’d never been so curious about anyone—not even the mysterious authors he worked for without ever meeting in the flesh.