Ballsy
Page 3
Once upon a time, they’d done the same thing with Ben. Now that Ben was older, and had been hidden away in an office for years, he had less prospects banging down his door.
Eliot, on the other hand, was constantly being courted by other publications.
Secretly, Ben was pretty sure he stayed for him.
Claire pursed her lips. “Fine. We want to send him to a couples’ retreat, so we need someone who has a partner to take. Our sponsor—”
“Sponsor?” Ben asked, disgusted. “You’re gonna drag Eliot off something important to send him out to do an advertorial?”
“Yes,” Claire said. “Because something important isn’t keeping the lights on or paying your salary. Advertorials are. That’s how this works. And we can’t keep giving those to unknowns. It doesn’t carry any weight if it’s not coming from a recognizable name. It’s only for the weekend. And it’s not the retreat itself. It’s for a marriage guidance service. Our readers can’t afford this place.”
Offended didn’t even begin to cover how Ben felt. Management’s big idea was to squander the talents of probably the best reporter they’d ever have on a fluff piece for a couples’ retreat.
It wasn’t even the piece itself that was the problem. Once you sold out your reputation once, there was no going back. Eliot deserved better than getting himself trapped here because his integrity was in question.
The fact that it wasn’t a straight-up paid review didn’t make it better, no matter how Claire wanted to frame it.
“This will pay for itself, and right now, Ballsy won’t. We could give you a little leeway if you give us this.”
Ben couldn’t help but feel as though he was being blackmailed.
“Eliot or the whole project,” Claire said. “It’s up to you.”
Ballsy or Eliot.
Ben’s stomach turned at the thought.
Ballsy, or Eliot. How was he supposed to make a decision like that?
Ballsy was what he’d always wanted. A project to call his own. Serious, hard-hitting journalism being dropped in the lap of the masses where they couldn’t ignore it. The thing he wanted most in the world.
And then there was Eliot, who had his whole career ahead of him, who’d worked so hard and was the voice of the future. Not only that, but he was Ben’s friend. One of a very, very small number of those, and one who deserved his help.
It was an impossible choice to make, and Ben couldn’t see why he was being forced to make it. If this was Claire’s idea of a sick joke, he didn’t appreciate it.
An idea occurred to Ben just as he opened his mouth to argue. He would have gone down fighting, but maybe he didn’t have to.
It was a terrible idea. Everything about it was bad. But it was also the best chance he had to rescue both Ballsy and Eliot from the fate that was about to befall them if he was pulled off what he was working on and onto this.
Besides, it was right out of Eliot’s own playbook. That was a satisfying touch.
Was he really going to do this?
It seemed like the only option, but even as Ben opened his mouth to speak, his stomach went cold with dread.
“Neither,” Ben said. “Send me. My name still has weight.”
Panic rose in Ben’s throat. What the hell was he doing?
Claire raised an elegantly-plucked eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were married.”
Ben shifted his weight on the chair under him. “I’m not, but I know a guy.”
“A guy?” Claire asked, obviously surprised.
Ben’s heart thundered in his chest. He hadn’t realized he was about to say that, but now he had, and it was too late to take it back.
He’d never been out at work before. He was only out to a very small handful of people.
“Yes,” he said, straightening up. “Is that a problem?”
After a moment of silence, Claire shook her head. “No problem. We’d already committed to sending a gay couple, anyway. I just… didn’t realize.”
Ben cleared his throat. “I like to keep my personal life personal,” he said.
No one needed to know that he never said anything about his personal life because, for all intents and purposes, he didn’t really have one. His evenings were filled with single-malt scotch and second-hand books.
This was a bad idea. Now that the words had left his mouth, Ben was struck by how much worse it was than he’d originally thought.
“Which is obviously your right,” Claire said. As much as Ben liked her—and he did, when she wasn’t trying to ruin Eliot’s career—he also liked to see her off-balance.
He was slowly realizing that he’d made a terrible mistake, but he couldn’t back down now. “So you’ll give me the fluff piece and leave Eliot alone?”
Claire looked at him for several agonizing seconds, and then looked over at her computer screen. “Okay,” she said after a moment. “Eliot’s off the hook. But this better be the best, most earnest article of your career.”
“I wouldn’t dream of turning anything else in,” Ben lied.
This was the worst idea he’d ever had. He couldn’t afford to show fear, but now that he’d reached the point of no return, he could see all the possible pitfalls.
Faking a relationship had worked out just fine for Eliot, but that was Eliot. Ben was a different person, and this plan hinged on the cooperation of a man he hadn’t seen in ten years before yesterday.
Sam had to agree to this. Or if Sam didn’t, Ben had to find someone else who would.
He doubted Danny would be into trading Eliot in for him, even just for the weekend.
After that, he was all out of friends.
“I’ll email you through the details. You need to be there by noon tomorrow with your, uh… guy. You’re still not married, right? That’s definitely not a thing?”
“I’m not married,” Ben agreed.
This was easily the worst idea he’d ever had.
He’d let his mouth run away with him, too busy defending Eliot to think about the consequences. What if Sam didn’t agree?
What if he did?
A part of Ben wanted a second chance with him. A shot at getting things right this time, being honest about what he wanted. Letting himself have the one good thing in his life, the thing he’d thrown away out of cowardice and confusion.
Dragging him off to a couples’ retreat was almost certainly not the way to go about it.
Except… maybe it was. It wouldn’t have been the first time they’d let people assume they were together to their advantage.
The adventures they’d gone on, the ones that had started out as terrible ideas… those had been the best times. They were happiest when they were doing something stupid and a little risky together.
Maybe Sam was different now. Maybe he wouldn’t want to get caught up in Ben’s bullshit again. But was it the worst thing to take the chance that he would?
“Good. I can’t reassess my entire mental picture of you at once,” Claire said. “You care a lot about Eliot,” she noted. It definitely wasn’t a question.
“Of course,” Ben said. “And I care a lot about Ballsy, too. I want it to succeed.”
Why had he volunteered for this? He couldn’t admit to Sam that he wanted to spend the weekend with him.
He did want to spend the weekend with him, though. Seeing him again had dredged up so many old feelings that Ben felt like he was drowning in them.
He wasn’t used to feeling anything like this anymore. He’d thought he was past the stage of his life where feelings were this intense.
That was why he’d volunteered. Not just to save Eliot. But because he’d seen an opportunity to get what he wanted most out of it.
It had worked for Eliot, after all. Why shouldn’t it work for him?
Aside from the fact that this was a completely different situation.
The only thing Ben was sure of right now was that he was unsure of everything.
“Okay. Good luck, then. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Thank you,” Ben said, standing. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was saying thank you.
He’d just had his entire life upended in the space of five minutes. He’d volunteered to do something he wasn’t sure he could, with a man he wasn’t sure would even want to help him after all this time.
But if it saved Ballsy, it was worth it. This was his baby. The thing he’d been working toward for years. The chance to do what he really wanted to with his life.
If a few days of potential discomfort with an old friend were the price of that, he was getting off lightly.
He hoped.
Chapter Five
Hey, you wanna go on an adventure?
Sam had been staring at the text for the last three minutes, unsure how to respond. The sentimental choice of words was almost enough to make him think that someone had stolen Ben’s phone, but then, they were only sentimental between them.
That was the first thing Sam had ever said to him, on the first day they met.
Sam still thought of that day as the best one of his life. Everything had changed the moment he’d worked up the courage to go and talk to the cute reporter he’d had his eye on for weeks. Even though it hadn’t worked out the way he’d initially imagined, he wouldn’t have traded any of it for the world.
Of course he wanted to go on another adventure. He’d go on any adventure Ben wanted to take him on.
Obviously, he finally texted back. When + where?
Excitement welled up in his stomach. He’d been part-way through packing the few things he owned back into the suitcase he’d been living out of for the past ten years, but he’d drop it all for Ben.
He’d always drop everything for Ben. He’d just forgotten that for a while.
We need to talk in person. Meet me back at that coffee shop, as soon as you can.
That sounded… weirdly urgent, but then Ben had a tendency to make everything sound weirdly urgent. Sam’s hotel wasn’t all that far from the coffee shop, so he could be there quickly. He shot back a quick on my way and ducked into the bathroom to check his hair.
The scar on his face suddenly seemed huge again. There was no way in hell Ben hadn’t noticed. He just wasn’t mentioning it out of politeness, probably.
If nothing else told him they were just friends, and they’d always be just friends, it was that. No one who was interested in him could ignore that. Even if it wasn’t a complete dealbreaker, they’d react to it one way or another.
Ben, on the other hand, had reacted like a friend. He hadn’t even looked twice.
The sun was setting by the time Sam stepped out of the hotel and onto the street. People were making their way home, pushing past Sam in waves, staring down at their phones, telling loved ones they’d be home soon, or asking if they needed to pick up milk on the way, or cursing their boss for last-minute emails.
A cool breeze blew past. It might have been Sam’s imagination, but he caught the faintest hint of salt on it, though he knew he was probably too far from the ocean for that. He’d been much closer for most of the last decade, soaking up the sun on exotic beaches all over the world.
LA still seemed so strange, and that was part of why he was trying to run away from it right now. Home wasn’t home anymore.
If Ben needed his help, though…
Sam had never been able to refuse him. If Ben had told him to stay on the day he left, he would have. No matter how much it would have broken his heart.
The coffee shop was blissfully idle. A lot places were closed by now, but apparently this was one that understood that sometimes, people needed coffee at night, too.
Ben was already occupying a table in the corner, a cup of coffee sitting in front of the seat opposite him while he focused on his phone, squinting in the mood lighting.
Sam’s heart flipped. He was looking at everything he’d lost, and everything he’d missed, and it hurt. It hurt like hell not to have Ben.
“Thank you for coming,” Ben said, looking up as Sam sat down. “And sorry for making this all seem so urgent, but it kind of is. I… was me, as usual.” He smiled wryly.
Sam knew what that meant. Ben had done something without putting a lot of thought into it first, and now he was stuck. He’d always relied on Sam to help him out, and Sam had always been happy to.
That hadn’t changed.
“What did you do?” Sam asked. He already knew he was going to help with whatever Ben needed him for, but he figured he should find out what that was, first.
Ben cleared his throat. “Well, see, they wanted Eliot to go and do a fluff piece, but he’s working on something important right now and I don’t want his career to slide backward like that, and it was either hand him over or lose my own personal project…”
“Following so far,” Sam said. Ben rambling didn’t seem like a good sign.
“Uh. So now I have to write the fluff piece.” Ben sipped his coffee, then looked up and met Sam’s eyes. “How do you feel about going to a couples’ retreat?”
Sam blinked at him, opened his mouth to respond, and then blinked again before closing it.
He’d been expecting to hear all kinds of dangerous or legally grey requests. That was what they did.
This was… not… what they did.
Well, aside from one or two times that had only made Sam pine even more. Ben had seemed so comfortable with pretending, but he’d always sprung back firmly into just friends mode immediately after.
“Wouldn’t that kinda upset Eliot?” Sam raised an eyebrow.
Ben shook his head. “Trust me, he doesn’t want to do this, and he and Danny are as far from on the rocks as you can possibly be. They don’t belong at a couples’ retreat.”
Sam frowned. “Who the hell is Danny?”
“Eliot’s husband,” Ben said. He looked at Sam for a few moments assessing him carefully.
Sam pursed his lips, hoping Ben wouldn’t work out what stupid conclusion he’d jumped to.
“You thought we were together,” Ben said after a few moments. “Didn’t you?”
There wasn’t a whole lot of point in lying about it, now that Ben had seen through him. “A little. Well, no. A lot. You seemed so happy to see him, and the way you look at him… you just radiated love. In your own, incredibly reserved way.”
“I do love Eliot, but it’s not like that at all. He’s my friend, and I like to think I’m his mentor. I don’t, uh. I don’t have a lot of friends.” Ben looked back down at his coffee.
That wasn’t really a surprise. Ben had never had a lot of friends.
Sam had always thought of himself as lucky to be practically the lone member of a very selective club. He was okay with sharing that status, though, if it meant Ben was happier.
Especially if it meant Ben wasn’t spoken for. As much as Sam wanted him to be happy, he wanted to be a part of that happiness if at all possible.
“Well, that screws up my plan to ask you to give him my number,” Sam teased. “I figured I could sweep him off his feet, but I wouldn’t break up a happy marriage.”
“He’d be lucky to have you,” Ben said softly. “But Danny’s a good man, too. He’s exactly what Eliot needed in his life.”
Sam wasn’t sure how to respond to that. If Ben thought someone else would be lucky to have him, did that mean…
No. There was no point in letting himself think that Ben would be interested after all this time. He was just asking a favor of an old friend.
A work-related favor, even.
“I really need a decision on that couples’ retreat,” Ben said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I know it’s dumb, but…”
“Are you kidding?” Sam grinned. “It’s my favorite episode of every cop show ever.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Are you still watching those dumbass cop shows?”
“Are you still getting overly invested in Grey’s Anatomy?” Sam countered. Ben had been a fan from the first episode, and he’d tried to keep it a secret until Sam caught him.
Ben cleared his throat. “Was that a yes, or a no?”
“It’s a yes,” Sam said, not wanting Ben to back away from the idea.
“Good.” Ben sipped his coffee, sitting back. Some of the tension in his shoulders eased, but he didn’t look completely relaxed.
That was fine. They could work on getting him to relax.
“So when is this happening?” Sam asked.
“This weekend. We’re leaving bright and early tomorrow morning to get there for noon. It’s about two hours’ drive out of town.”
“I hope you got a new car at some point, ‘cause your old one has to be scrap by now.” Sam said.
“I did.” Ben played with his coffee cup. “It’s nice, even. Not to your taste, but…”
“So it’s a sensible hatchback?” Sam raised an eyebrow. His taste had always run to the impractical, but then he’d never had to own a car.
“It… well, yes.” Ben cleared his throat. “I guess some things never change.”
“Like you dragging me off to do all kinds of ill-advised things,” Sam said. Not that he minded.
“I knew you’d come through for me.” Ben shrugged. “And you’ll keep me sane while we pass around the rock of truth or some other crap like that. What even happens at couples’ retreats.”
Sam had no idea either, although he was already imagining all kinds of things. “Guess we’ll find out.”
It was nice to know that Ben still felt as though he could rely on him, after all this time.
Sam was going to prove him right if it killed him.
Chapter Six
Ben wasn’t sure why he was surprised that the retreat was nice—after all, this was, according to his research, the kind of place the rich and famous came to reconnect with their spouses. It still struck him as too nice, from the beautifully manicured gardens to the silk sheets on the bed.