The Worst Best Man

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The Worst Best Man Page 15

by M. J. O'Shea


  “I think this is it, boys. Quite the swanky neighborhood.”

  August hadn’t told them how much his salary had been boosted with the promotion yet. It was… nice. Very nice. Will had gotten a raise as well, so together they’d be quite okay with the payment for their loft once the prepaid period ran out.

  “Jesus Christ,” Will breathed.

  Pictures online really didn’t do justice to the scale of the place—either the building or the neighborhood. August seconded that sentiment.

  “Why don’t we let you two boys out and go find our hotel? We’ll catch a cab back here to meet you.”

  “That sounds good, Dad.”

  August was too busy staring up at their building. He’d seen a few pictures, but it was a pretty huge step up from a cute but tiny flat over a coffee shop chain.

  “You have the keys?” Will asked.

  “Yeah. Helena had them mailed to me.” August dug in his pocket. “Here’s yours.”

  They dragged their suitcases in and took the elevator up to the fourth floor.

  THE loft looked even bigger than it had in the pictures. It had come furnished with a few basic pieces, but August and Will would have some work to do. The main room was fairly huge, with wood floors and a long brick wall. The ceiling had exposed beams, the windows were tall, and the kitchen was open to the rest of the space. It was a New York loft, for sure. It was amazing.

  “This is fucking incredible,” Will breathed. “I feel like we’re in a movie. Did you decide what bedroom you want?”

  August had really wanted the one with the view of the main street, so he pointed toward it.

  “Cool. I’ll go put my things in the other room. Can you believe this?”

  August smiled. “It’s pretty damn incredible. I’m just…. It’s blowing my mind that we’re actually here.”

  “Me too, mate. Me too.”

  AFTER two days of settling in, buying groceries, and getting to know their new neighborhood, Will and August walked to the new Helena Preston New York offices to get started on what was going to be a fairly hefty task. They had some intense meetings with Helena in their future, both online and when she came in person to see how they were doing in late November.

  The offices were gorgeous—less garden party than the ones back in London, more sleek gray walls, rich wood floors, cityscapes, and splashes of green in ficus trees and ivy plants.

  Helena had booked them some preliminary meetings with vendors, hired a receptionist, and booked them more than enough client meetings to get a schedule started. They only had to make the contacts in person and they’d be off and running.

  “This place is pretty amazing,” Will said. “I feel a lot less like I’m in my mum’s parlor than I always did back at the London office.”

  August chuckled. “I love Helena, but I seriously hated that furniture.”

  “We’re going to need to get a leather couch, you know. At least for my office if not for yours.”

  “We’ll scour the vintage stores this weekend,” August promised.

  Will grinned at him. “What’s first on the agenda?”

  “We’ll need to hire an assistant. With this pile of clients already interested in booking, the two of us will sink if we don’t have help.”

  “I can get started on placing ads and putting out feelers if you want.”

  “Perfect, and I’ll start scheduling client meetings.” They looked at each other for a few long seconds. “We’ve got this, right?”

  “Yes,” Will said. “We’re the dream team. We’ve got this.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  AUGUST and Will gathered in their new conference room for their newfangled weekly meeting with Helena. It was the first of its kind, conducted over Skype rather than in person, and August thought it might be… weird.

  They dialed her office, and suddenly there Helena was, larger than life in the conference room screen. It was odd and new, but it was going to work. August and Will waved at her from their chairs at the conference table.

  “Hello, boys,” she said with a smile. “I’ve missed seeing your lovely faces quite a bit, you know.”

  “We miss you too, Helena,” Will said. “I’m sure Louise is taking the city by storm. She always was the best of us three.”

  “Louise is doing a wonderful job of stepping into your shoes, and she chose her assistant perfectly. I have all the confidence things will continue to run smoothly here. Now tell me about the first full week of operation. I want to hear everything.”

  They ran through the typical stuff, catering, flowers, clients acquired, deposits, and bills. Helena had done such a great job of keeping them in the loop back in London that it felt the same as always… except better. August had no idea how exhilarating it would feel to be in charge. Terrifying, of course, but the most exciting thing he’d ever done in his life. He still answered to Helena but only occasionally. The office was his, and he loved being the one to pick and choose clients, interview vendors, and eventually hire teams like Helena had back in London to do the day-to-day planning for him. He’d never been so excited professionally in his life. Personally, things still sucked, and he thought they probably would for a long time, but everything else was going so well he could try to forget about it.

  They were about to hang up after a very successful first conference when Helena raised her hand to stop him.

  “August darling, I have a question of a personal nature to ask you.”

  Okay…. “What is it?”

  August couldn’t wait to hear what Helena had to say. It was bound to be something nice and awkward.

  “I’m not sure if William has told you, but Christopher was in here looking for you a few weeks ago.” Oh. That.

  “That’s fine, Helena. Everything between me and Christopher has been settled.”

  She smiled. “Oh, so you two worked things out? I’m happy. You were such a beautiful couple.”

  What did he say about it being nice and awkward? Welcome to awkward city. “Sorry I misled you. We’re not back together. I was just perfectly clear with him why I didn’t think things would work out between the two of us. I don’t know why he was at the office, but there’s no need to worry about it. It’s done.”

  “Does that mean you haven’t talked to him since the wedding?”

  “He hasn’t,” Will said. “Chris has been a mess.”

  August glared at Will. “What exactly do you mean?” Last he heard, Will hated Christopher, and now he knew how Christopher’d been handling the breakup?

  Excuse me. How Chris is handling the breakup. Chris.

  “I just…. We’re worried about you. That’s all.” Will looked bashful.

  Helena did not. She stared down at him like the matron of some great house. “I might be your boss, August O’Leary, but you boys are like sons to me. If you think I’m not going to check up on you when I’ve noticed something is direly off-kilter, then you’ve gone delusional.”

  He couldn’t help but be touched—he’d always loved Helena as more than a boss. It felt good to know she felt the same about him. Still, he’d appreciate if the subject was dropped.

  “Oh, Helena. Will and I were going to look at trying to get permission to use the library as a venue for that cocktail party. What would you think about that?”

  Helena gave him a knowing look but played along. Subject changed. Noted.

  “That would be beautiful, darling. Take pictures and run it by the clients. I’m sure they’ll love it.”

  “Okay, fantastic.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to contact Christopher?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  August noticed Will wince a little when he said that, but he tried to ignore it. He knew his friends had good intentions, but they didn’t know how it felt to lose Christopher not once but twice, when he thought he finally had him back. August didn’t know what the point was of putting his heart through that again. A clean break was what he needed. Sure it hu
rt like hell, but the quicker it got over with the sooner he could move on with his life. And Christopher could move on with his.

  THEY’D already found a neighborhood spot they loved to go to. Will and August would stop there for lattes and muffins before they went into the office. The baristas knew them, and August had the suspicion one of them, pretty with a bouncy red ponytail, had a bit of a thing for Will. Neither of them was hungry after a large lunch tasting the wares of different caterers, so they decided to stop at the café for a small bite before they headed up to their loft.

  After they got their drinks and snacks, they took a pair of armchairs by the window that was rarely left empty. August tipped his head up and let the autumn sun hit it. It was still warm outside, but the air was getting chilly at night, and the coffee shops were filling with pumpkin spice and cranberry bread.

  “So are we going to talk about that meeting today, or are you going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

  August sighed. “Option B?”

  “Right. Let’s try that again.”

  “Why did you even give me the option if you didn’t really mean it?”

  “Because I wanted to give you the illusion that I wasn’t going to make you talk about it.”

  August shook his head fondly. “Fine. What’s the point? Christopher is Christopher. I’m me. We’re never going to be on the same side of the velvet rope, and that’s just the way it is.”

  “This isn’t an Edwardian upstairs-downstairs thing.”

  “Might as well be. I don’t think times have changed nearly as much as everyone would like to believe. There are still social classes. I’m not in his.”

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  “Run our branch, ignore the fact that you’ve clearly been in contact with him, try to get out there and meet someone new when I finally have five minutes to breathe. The usual.”

  “What if Christopher’s it, though? Haven’t you always kind of thought that?”

  August didn’t get where Will was coming from all of a sudden. “Weren’t you the one always going on and on about posh twats and how their world isn’t for you? Well guess what. Christopher is the king of the posh twats.”

  Will gave August a sad look. “Yeah, but he’s your posh twat, isn’t he? It’s been weeks, August. He hasn’t given up on you.”

  “He will eventually.”

  They sat there and drank the rest of their coffee, ate their snacks, and then walked back to their loft. It was quiet, mainly, just a bit of chitchat about the office that day. August felt like the whole Christopher thing was making his relationship with Will awkward, and he didn’t get the turnaround. Will had been so against Christopher when he’d left London, but by the time Will got to New York, his story seemed to have changed. It was that moment that August realized why.

  “You saw him after I left, didn’t you?” August asked. “This isn’t like phone conversations or anything. You wouldn’t have picked up the phone.”

  Will looked guilty. He’d been in New York for close to three weeks, and he hadn’t said a word about it. “Yeah. I saw him.”

  “When were you planning to mention that to me?”

  “I wasn’t.” Will frowned. “If I’d gotten here and found you as happy as you were all spring and summer, then I wouldn’t have said a word about it and I would’ve forgotten Chris ever existed, but you’re not happy. Not without him.”

  August thought that he and Will might be about to have their first real fight in nearly eight years of friendship. “What gave you the right to meddle behind my back? I left London for a lot of reasons, but he was one of them. Did you tell him where I was?”

  Will looked even guiltier. “He knows you’re in New York. I didn’t give him any more details than that.”

  “Will. What the hell?”

  “The guy was a wreck, August. I’ve never seen someone so lovesick and sad. He’s lost like ten pounds. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He just wanted to know what happened to you. He said he went to your flat and it was empty. He knew you weren’t in London anymore, and he already knew about the job in New York. You told him yourself.”

  True. Shit. “Now what am I supposed to do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just… don’t know what to do.”

  “Talk to him? You’re no better, you know. You might be sleeping and eating, but you’re burying yourself in work. It’s not healthy.”

  “I’m kind of pissed at you right now. I just want you to know that.”

  “Fine. Are we still going out this weekend?”

  “Yes.” August thought he should probably ignore Will, find something else to do, but he didn’t have the heart. “But I don’t want to hear about this anymore, okay? I just want to go out and have a good time.”

  “If you say so,” Will said.

  August flopped down on the couch. He wanted to say so, damn it. He did so badly. But while his head told him that everything he’d said to Will was right, that he and Christopher just couldn’t work, his damn heart hurt. It ached like some torn muscle that hadn’t ever healed. Probably wouldn’t heal completely. What a mess.

  AUGUST was still a little angry with Will by Friday night, but he decided there was no point in the two of them being short with each other. They barely knew anyone else in the city yet. It wouldn’t do to not be speaking to each other. Besides, Will loved him, and he’d only been doing what he thought was best. August didn’t think it would matter one way or the other if Christopher knew where he was. It was just another string that he had no way to cut.

  “What time are we leaving?” August asked Will. They’d just gotten home from the office for the day. August wanted to take a nap and shower before they headed out.

  “I told Salome we’d meet her at the club at nine.”

  Salome was their brand-new assistant. She’d been brilliant so far, so a little bit of celebrating didn’t seem out of order.

  “She’s okay with going to a gay club?” August asked. “You too?”

  Will shrugged. “I just want to get a few drinks. Don’t much care where it is. Salome seemed more than okay with it. Don’t know why she wouldn’t be.”

  “Good.”

  “August. What are you doing?”

  August stood and turned to go into his bedroom. “I think it’s about time I try to get over Chris. I never really have, you know. I’m in a new place that has nothing to do with him. Maybe that’s a sign.”

  Will gave him a long, uncomfortable look. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I think I am.”

  FOUR hours later he was showered, dressed, and in the middle of a new club that he and Will had managed to snag VIP entrance to so they could “check it out” for later events. August wasn’t doing much checking the venue out. He was more interested in checking out the guys lined up at the bar for drinks. At least he was trying to be. It felt good to be out, he had to admit. He’d spent months at pubs and restaurants with Christopher’s arm around him, and it was amazing. He had loved every minute of it. But he didn’t mind this new sensation either. If he had to start over, this seemed like as good a place as any. Probably better than that.

  “What do you want to drink?” he called to Will and Salome.

  “Pint for me. Hard cider if they have it, IPA if they don’t.” Will had been exploring the selection of New York City’s craft beers since they’d landed. He’d pronounced quite a few of them acceptable and was rather surprised that most of the pub patrons didn’t shoot back Budweiser and Coors like in the American films.

  “I’d like a whiskey sour,” Salome said.

  “Coming right up. You two want to find us a table?”

  August went to stand in line at the bar and tried to get lost in the scene. He hadn’t ever been big into the gay club circuit in London—on occasion if he needed to blow off steam, but not all that often. Somehow he felt like he fit in better in the New York club than he ever had there, although after so long away he shou
ld’ve felt like a square peg. Maybe he was just finally trying, rather than what he’d done back there.

  August got to the front of the line and ordered their drinks. It didn’t take him long to get them and wind his way back to the table Will had miraculously procured.

  FOUR drinks in and August was having the time of his life. He’d been dragged out onto the dance floor by Salome and Will. He didn’t usually love the crush of bodies and sweat and too many different colognes, but he’d had enough to drink that it was fun for a change. He knew he probably looked like some awkward baby giraffe when he attempted to dance like everyone else, but he probably wasn’t the worst one there.

  He was swaying to a song with a rather trippy beat when he felt someone warm curl around his back. August looked behind him and saw a guy—dark hair, golden skin, pretty damn hot, dancing against him.

  “Hi,” the guy said. “I’m Aaron.”

  “August.”

  “It’s October.”

  It wasn’t funny, but he was tipsy, and the world was awesome. He giggled. “No, August is my name.”

  “Well, pretty August, would you like a drink?”

  “Sure.” August grinned at him, then waved to Salome and Will to show them he was taking a break.

  Will drew his eyebrows together but didn’t say anything. Salome… well, the poor thing had no idea what the intense looks were about. Hopefully she’d had enough cocktails not to notice.

  A drink turned into a dance, which turned into a kiss, and then another. It felt a little weird. August couldn’t lie to himself. But it was okay. Good even if he forgot that it didn’t feel like Christopher and that wasn’t right.

 

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