No Sacrifice

by Grace R. Duncan

  “Madeo,” he heard his mother say.

  “Who’s there?” Chance asked, checking his hair again in the mirror, then pulling the tiny bit of toilet paper off the cut on his chin.

  “Vannah. She’s looking it up on her laptop. Ohhh!” She said something to Vannah that Chance couldn’t make out, then to him, “That looks expensive! And the stars go there!” She covered the phone—Chance had tried to tell her more than once the microphone still picked stuff up, but she never listened—and he heard her say, “Tell him to keep his homophobic nastiness to himself. I do not want to hear it.”

  Chance frowned, heard Vannah’s voice turn shrill, then a thunk as, he suspected, she slammed her phone down. “Tell Vannah that slamming a cell phone doesn’t have the same impact.”

  Mama laughed. “She won’t listen. So, Madeo looks very nice. And expensive.”

  “Yeah, Patrick insisted we go somewhere really nice.” Chance cleared his throat. “I tried to tell him I’d be happy somewhere cheaper, but he says he likes to spoil me.”

  Mama laughed. “I don’t blame him. Where is he?”

  “In the other bathroom getting ready. Marcy’s here for Avery, so we’re about to go. Did you have something you wanted to talk about? Or were you just checking up on my love life?”

  She snorted. “I have better things to do than worry about that all the time.” Chance chuckled, knowing better. “I wanted to see if you were still planning to bring Avery for Easter.”

  “Oh, Patrick was looking into tickets yesterday. I don’t know what he found, but I’ll ask him and let you know.”

  “Good. Have a good time, baby.”

  “Thanks, Mama. Talk to you later.” After he hung up, Chance checked his reflection one more time, wishing he had better luck taming his hair, then headed out to the living room.

  “Well, don’t you look handsome.” Marcy grinned up at him from her place on the couch.

  Chance blushed. “Uh, thanks. Hey, Squirt, you behave for Marcy, okay?”

  “Okay, Chance…,” Avery called from his spot next to Marcy. Cars was already playing, Avery’s attention firmly held by Lightning McQueen.

  Chance crossed the room and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. When he stood up, he turned to see Patrick standing at the end of the hall in his suit, looking way too gorgeous for Chance’s sanity. Chance belatedly realized his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut, grinning as he stepped up to Patrick.

  Patrick’s long hair fell loosely over the black jacket. A pearl-gray shirt peeked out from under a new tie. When Chance peered closer, he saw tiny black clapboards, movie cameras, and film frames worked into the pattern against a blue background. “Will I do?” Patrick asked, and Chance heard the nervousness.

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe you’d question it, Mr. Hollywood Actor.”

  Patrick snorted. “That’s them. That’s not you.”

  Chance smiled. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, reaching up and tucking a bit of hair behind Patrick’s ear. When he did, he stopped to stare at the sapphire earring in Patrick’s left ear. “When did you get this?”

  “I snuck out today.” Patrick grinned. “There’s a little place not too far from the studio. Do you like it?”

  “Hell yeah. But… what about filming?”

  “I have a retainer. I’ll just have to be careful and change it fast. After tonight, I’ll probably leave the retainer in until it’s healed.”

  Chance shook his head, still smiling. “It looks great.”

  Patrick pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket. “So… do you think you’d want to wear this, then?” He held it up.

  Chance raised an eyebrow but opened the box to see a matching earring nestled in the velvet. He looked up. “Of course.” He set the box onto the bar, immediately took out the tiny diamond he had in, and replaced it with the sapphire. “So, I have to ask, why blue?”

  “Well….” Patrick wouldn’t look right at him. “Uh… it’s my favorite color, and—” The rest was lost in a mumble.

  Chance blinked. “I didn’t catch that last part.”

  Patrick sighed, cheeks turning red. “It’s the color of your eyes.”

  It was still mumbled, but Chance made it out. And he grinned, pulling Patrick into his arms. “You are always surprising me. In good ways.” He nuzzled Patrick’s face and dropped a kiss on his cheek, then ear. “I love you.”

  He felt Patrick let out a long breath. “I love you too. Thank you for—uh, well, just… thanks.”

  “Thank you. It’s a great gift. Are we ready, then?”

  Patrick stepped back and nodded.

  Chance belatedly remembered they weren’t alone. When they looked over, Marcy had her face propped in her hands, leaning over the back of the couch, watching them, a dreamy look on her face. Chance rolled his eyes. “You didn’t have to watch.”

  “Y’all are just too sweet for words.” She grinned and waved. “Go on, get out of here. I got y’all’s phone numbers. Avery and I’ll be just fine, won’t we, little bit?”

  “Uh-huh.” Avery nodded without pulling his attention from the movie.

  Patrick took a right off Beverly Boulevard and shoehorned the little blue Mazda into a spot on Swall Drive that opened up as they approached. When he turned the car off, he looked over at Chance and smiled. “Stay put,” he said, then climbed out of the car.

  Chance rolled his eyes at Patrick’s insistence on opening the door, watching him walk around the front—the only place with any space between cars—and couldn’t stop the thrill of possessiveness as he did. Patrick was so gorgeous, and Chance still wondered how he could have managed to end up with Patrick—not only as a friend or boyfriend, but as a partner.

  He still had private worries he wasn’t enough for Patrick. Very small fears niggled at him, telling him this man was too beautiful, too good, too everything for him. He shoved the tiny voice into a box and did his best to ignore it, at least for the evening.

  Patrick opened the door, and Chance got out, pausing before Patrick could close it for him. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

  “Open your door?” Patrick asked, and Chance nodded. “No, I don’t. But I’d do it for anyone else I was dating or marr—uh, with. I did it for Emily. There’s no reason not to for you. Unless you’re going to say it has something to do with you being a man.”

  Chance did not miss what Patrick almost said, but he was too busy scowling over the last bit. “When you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous.”

  “Because it is. Just because you have a dick doesn’t mean I can’t open a door for you when I’m taking you out on a date.” Patrick shook his head. “And being long-term partners doesn’t change that either.”

  Chance was about to argue something along those lines. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and stepped from behind the door. Patrick closed it, set the alarm, and turned back to Chance, who leaned in and kissed him. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

  Patrick smirked. “Don’t need to say you’re sorry. Just… let me open the door for my partner once in a while, okay?”

  Chance nodded. “Yeah, okay.” Chance took the hand Patrick held out, and they turned toward the restaurant. As they rounded the corner and crossed the street, Chance frowned. “Uh, baby?”

  “Hmm?” Patrick asked, glancing over.

  “Uh….” He pointed at the knot of people with cameras standing under the green awning marking the entrance to the restaurant. “Paparazzi. If we’re seen holding hands….”

  Patrick shook his head. “They don’t care about me, a ghrá. I’m just a small fish. They’re more worried about someone like….” Patrick grinned. “Him.”

  Chance looked over and blinked. He lived in Los Angeles. Stars appeared everywhere, but it still surprised him sometimes when he saw certain ones. “Is that…?”

  “Al Pacino, yes. And from what I understand, Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, and a bunch of other people come here. They’re not going to worry about lit
tle old me, a secondary character on a cable TV show. Come on.”

  Despite Patrick’s assurances, Chance was pretty sure he still heard shutter clicks as they passed the mess of cameramen. He was also pretty sure the lenses were aimed at them, since Al had already descended the steps and was out of sight. Chance considered trying to at least take his hand out of Patrick’s, but his partner apparently anticipated it and held on tight. He pushed the worry aside and went through the open double wooden doors.

  “How did you get us in here, anyway? I mean, if it’s the kind of place they’d go?” Chance asked once they were down the steps and in the restaurant itself, waiting for the maître d’ to return from seating Al.

  Chance glanced around and could see the back wall of the dining room from their place by the host station. The single room stretched past a bar that took up a chunk of the middle section of the space. White covered tables filled the restaurant, sitting in every conceivable space while still leaving just enough room between them for the waitstaff to slip through. Gold and beige damask-covered booths and chairs provided seating. And wood of all shades trimmed the bar, made up the huge beams across the ceiling, and framed pictures, windows, and mirrors to give the place a slightly more open feel than the room itself allowed.

  Patrick shrugged. “Well, it’s not exclusive—anyone can get in. But it can take a while to get a reservation. I pulled a favor out of Jack.”

  Chance raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah. I promised to go a little easier on him when I approve the scene with Rhys.”

  Chance chuckled. “I bet that made his day.”

  “According to him, his month. I told him he owed me for it.”

  “Good. He shouldn’t get too used to you giving in.”

  Patrick shook his head. “Don’t worry about that.” Patrick dropped his voice, despite the high noise volume in the restaurant. “And I’m still not going to approve any hard cock shots.”

  Chance grinned. “He wouldn’t get it on the air, anyway.”

  “Yup. Exactly. Anyway, so, here we are.”

  “Good evening, sir.” The maître d’ came back then, bowing slightly in greeting. “How may I help you tonight?”

  “Reservations for Tearney,” Patrick said with a smile. “Patrick Tearney.”

  The dark-haired host touched the screen in front of him a couple of times, then nodded and smiled. “Ah, yes, Mr. Tearney. We have you right here. If you’ll just follow me?”

  Chance had tried valiantly to not look at the prices on the menu. But when he spotted an entree for seventy-two dollars, he nearly choked on his wine. It took everything he had to swallow instead and remind himself to breathe.

  He’d managed it, though only barely, and found something much less expensive to order. Patrick had sighed at him, but Chance made it clear the seventy-two-dollar sole flown in from Holland hadn’t even sounded good to him. Certainly not as good as the steak or chicken entree he’d been looking at instead.

  Chance found that, aside from initially glancing around to see a few faces he knew from television or movies and one or two he’d actually seen on set… he wasn’t nearly as interested in who was around him as he was his date. He did snicker as one skinny blonde actress unplugged the lamp behind her to plug in her cell phone, but otherwise he mostly ignored them, focusing instead on Patrick.

  As such, the dinner flew by. They spent a lot of it holding hands when they weren’t actually eating, and talking in a way they didn’t often get a chance to do with filming and Avery. And as much as he loved the little boy, it was really nice to have an evening alone.

  As they were climbing the stairs to head back to the car, Patrick turned to him with a sly smile. “So….”

  Chance raised an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”

  “Not up to anything.” Patrick reached inside his jacket, grinning. “I already did it.” He handed Chance two small pieces of paper.

  It took Chance a full minute to realize what he was looking at. “These are opening night tickets for the Lord of the Rings In Concert.” Chance blinked up at Patrick.

  “Very observant, a ghrá.” Patrick smirked.

  “How did you… very funny. How did… how long have you been planning this?” Chance looked up, then back at the tickets. “Wait, are these…?”

  “Ah, yes. Mezzanine seats. Couple rows from the railing.” Patrick grinned. “I’ve been working on it for a while. When I saw them, and the date of the concert….” He shrugged. “I take it you’re sufficiently surprised?”

  “Uh, duh.” Chance shook his head, then tugged on Patrick to drop a sound kiss to the lips.

  When they broke apart, Patrick laughed. “So… you want to go?”

  Chance rolled his eyes. “I’m not even going to justify that with an answer.”

  Patrick laughed again, leaned in, and kissed him back. “Good. Let’s go.”

  Chance grinned. “Let’s.”

  Patrick rubbed his temples, trying to dig up some patience. Jack’s perfectionism had them approaching hour twelve of filming that day, and Patrick was quickly reaching the end of his tolerance. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Jack hadn’t been in such a bad mood on top of it.

  But he was. Dropping foul language, complaining over the tiniest nuances in facial expression, prop placement, and so on. The last reset had involved a misplaced candle.

  An unlit candle, at that. He couldn’t even claim it was a light issue.

  Patrick was tempted to pick it up and shove it into Jack’s eye.

  Another part of the problem was that it was the last day before a break. The scene they were filming was supposed to be simple, nothing too involved, and should have been done about three hours before. Except for Jack’s mood.

  The only thing that helped was Rhys, who’d seemed to do some kind of one eighty and hadn’t once mentioned love or feelings since the sex scene. Patrick had no idea why. He was just too grateful to question it. Instead, they were much closer to the friends they’d been the season before.

  “Let’s try this one more time.” Jack sighed, as if it was everyone else’s fault.

  Patrick knew he wasn’t being entirely fair. That perfectionism, Jack’s talent for direction, was a big part of why they did so well during the sweeps. But when it was already approaching twelve hours on set and nothing seemed to be good enough, it was very difficult to be fair.

  Patrick and Rhys reset, waited for the calls, then started one more time. Their lines were flawless; Patrick was sure of it. The moves were exactly what Jack had been harping on. Patrick spun on his heel, marched back across the room, and poked Rhys in the chest like he was supposed to. No call. Good.

  “I don’t know what you think you know, Cyrus, but if you don’t start to accept what I tell you, then I don’t know how much longer we can be together.” They stared at each other, Patrick breathing hard for the long minute Jack wanted.

  “And CUT!” Jack said. “I think that’ll do.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Patrick sighed.

  Rhys chuckled. “Hear! Hear! Maybe we ought to get a drink to celebrate.”

  “I’ve got to get Avery,” Patrick said and sighed. “My form of celebrating is… ordering pizza.”

  With another chuckle Rhys nodded. “Well, pizza’s almost as good. Let’s go—”

  “Hey, guys!” One of the production interns came trotting out from the lounge area off to one side. “E!’s doing a bit on Deception!”

  Rhys and Patrick looked at each other and grinned, then hurried into the lounge. The intern turned up the volume. “What’s it about?” Patrick asked.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t catch anything but the show name.”

  Patrick took a spot against the wall as most of the rest of the crew filed in with them. A commercial for some teeth-whitening rinse finished up and a voice overlay started as a studio still of him in Nadir’s tunic and pants flashed onto the screen. “Does Deception’s Patrick Tearney only play a gay man? Or w
as his marriage to Emily Daniels just a cover for what he really wants?”

  Patrick felt more than saw the entire group in the room turn toward him. But he was too transfixed by the television to pay them any attention. In a sort of stunned stupor, he watched the E! logo come up and then the image shift to a woman he couldn’t focus on as her name flashed on screen.

  Then the whole thing faded to video of him and Chance at Madeo. He’d just given Chance the concert tickets. He watched as Chance kissed him soundly and then he returned the kiss. “Patrick Tearney was seen here two nights ago at the trendy Madeo Restaurant in West Hollywood. The actor, who plays the gay character Nadir on HBO’s Deception, had always been believed to be straight. But appearances are a little deceiving. Patrick and Before the Dawn star, actress Emily Daniels, kept the split from their five-year marriage on the hush. Apparently, the divorce took place some six months ago, and Emily remarried in a quiet California ceremony to her long-time best friend, Sara Green.

  “What was the reason for the split? Neither Patrick nor Emily could be reached for comment, but we suspect Patrick just couldn’t stay closeted anymore. Perhaps the character Patrick assumes on screen isn’t quite the stretch he thought it was. E! hasn’t got all the answers yet, though we’ll keep looking for them. Either way, as he and his boyfriend—Sound Technician Chance Dillon—kiss for the camera, he comes out in a big way. This has been—”

  Someone turned the television off, and the click sounded loud in the now-silent room. Every eye was turned to Patrick, who hadn’t moved from his place against the wall, still stunned at the story.

  The phone ringing in his pocket pulled him out of his shock. He looked down at his phone and nearly had a heart attack. His mother. Oh shit.