by Heidi Austin
“But being free of your father was worth more than being with me and defending everything I represent?”
There was another long and horrible silence as my gut churned.
“When you put it like that, I see why you’re so furious.” I moved forward to tell him to get out, when he looked directly at me and said, “That wasn’t my choice, Jay. I could either do what I had always done and pander to his will, or I could fight it, finally, and escape. The only option I had, if I wanted to stay with you and keep you in my life, was to get out. If I’d explained it, defended you, told him I loved you, I’d never have seen you again because he would have made it impossible for me to live my life. He doesn’t like what he can’t control and he has always controlled me. He would have made sure our life together was impossible. It was better if he thought you were a casual fling because then he wouldn’t think twice about me kicking you to the curb.”
I stared him down, my mind stuttering and holding on the words ‘told him I loved you’ but I was not going to get sucked in so easily. “So, what happened?”
“I told him I would do whatever he wanted, I did it, and then I got a fucking train, Jay, and I went all the way to St Albans to meet Thea and I realised three things. Firstly, I had signed an investment deal that might end up with me having nothing. Secondly, I had thrown away my fortune and felt free for the first time in my life, and thirdly, and most importantly, I had been embarrassingly dependent on having a driver. I’ve been on the tube five times this week!”
The happiness with which he said such a simple and ridiculous statement made me laugh. He grinned at me, but his smile quickly faded, as did mine.
“So you’ve invested in this business? In our business?”
“Thea and I have invested in several. All restaurants and cafes. She’s got an eye for this kind of thing, and she saw potential in the model for Mama’s Hut immediately. It should have a high yield over the next three years. She’s your main contact in this, not me.”
“You honestly think your father is going to allow you to work independently from him?”
“Actually he was so angry I’m not sure what he’ll do, but he did what I expected and has cut me off completely, which is what I wanted.”
“Jesus, Cal, doesn’t that mean you don’t have anything at all?”
He looked up at me then and his pinched expression changed subtly, almost imperceptibly, his eyes softening and I felt a lump form in my throat.
“That’s not the way I see it, no.” A long moment as he stared at me. “Everything I had before was his anyway, but I’ll get back on my feet. That’s what I’m good at. These Reiss suits don’t buy themselves.”
He shifted from one foot to the other and I just watched him, still infuriatingly happy that he was here trying to win me back, but also aware he hadn’t actually apologised yet.
“So, what do you need from me?”
His expression fell. “I don’t need anything from you. I just want us to be together.”
“You’re going to come out as gay, to the press, to the world, all in the same week as your dad cuts you off from the family business?”
He smiled.
“Yeah. Kill eight birds with one stone, you know? Might as well get it all out in the open, you want to go fuck on Trafalgar Square or something?”
“I haven’t said I want you back, have I?”
He stopped, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“No. No you haven’t.” He leant against the bar and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did he follow through on his threats; have you managed to get another job?”
“No. Not yet. I can do contract work for a while if I need to.” I was being deliberately obtuse because my head was telling me not to give in to this man who had thrown me to the winds when I needed him to protect and defend me, but my heart was telling me to jump him.
He was naive if he believed he would be able to break free of his father that easily, but the fact that he had even tried was pretty brave.
He looked small and very uncertain in that moment and I did feel quite triumphant that he wasn’t sure how this was going to go. Someone as gorgeous as Cal probably wasn’t used to getting rejected that often.
I mirrored his posture and raised my eyebrows at him.
“What?” He asked it warily rather than defiantly.
“You wanna try this again?”
He stared at me for several seconds. Then his shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when he said all that vile shit to you. It must have been pretty horrible for you just to stand there and listen to it and for me to stand right next to you and not say anything. I just desperately wanted to never have to think about his opinion ever again and it was like I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, if I could just put up with it for two days and then beg you to forgive me I thought you’d understand.”
I closed my eyes, my resolve shattering.
“Please, Jay. I fucked up. But now we can actually go out together and eat in a restaurant, this restaurant eventually, and get photographed and I won’t care.”
“Being gay with me and being actually ‘out’ are two different things, Cal.”
“I know that.”
“Who says I want to go out to dinner with you?”
That finally seemed to deflate any hope that he had had. “Are you...are you seeing someone else?”
I ran a hand over my face. “Yes, Cal, in under a week I’ve moved on and I’m in love with someone else.”
He froze. So did I. I just went completely still. Fuck. I hadn’t meant to say that.
“You’ve what?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He grinned. “Yes it was.”
“Shut up, Cal.”
He walked right up to me then, his fingers curling into the belt loops in my jeans.
“You know, I’m poor now, so you won’t have to drive me round anywhere, and I’ll be constantly bitching about having to use an oyster card.”
“It’s all contactless now you stupid rich kid.”
He tried to kiss me and I pulled away, the movement more of a game than anything else. My heart was beating so fast I was surprised he couldn’t hear it.
He leaned into me again and groaned as I pulled just out of reach.
“I hate how tall you are.”
“Do you want me to get you a step?” I could hear the hollow quality in my own voice.
“Please, Jay.”
“Is this you begging?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“People are usually on their knees for that.” I said quietly and saw the light return to his eyes but I gripped his shoulders and pushed him away as the voices in the kitchen grew in volume and Thea and Marv came back in.
Marv’s eyes were sparkling and I smiled at him. His eyes flicked between me and Cal.
“Martin said you’d take the weekend to think it over and get back to me on Monday morning.”
Thea was still friendly but all business now.
“Cal, you and I have another appointment.”
Cal looked at me. I knew he was silently asking if he could speak to me before then. I nodded and he let out a breath. I wasn’t sure what he’d learned from that single movement but he seemed more relaxed as we all headed out of the venue and we watched Thea and Cal get in a cab.
Martin looked over at me and seemed to be waiting for something. I raised my eyebrows at him, and I’m not sure what he read in my expression, but as the taxi disappeared round the corner he gave a whoop and actually jumped in the air. The girls stared at him like he’d gone mad and I laughed, realising that in that single bright moment, his dreams had become reality.
“We’re all going to McDonalds.” He said triumphantly which was met by great celebration from the girls. I looked down at them and then back at him.
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
“I’m buying the girls wha
tever they want,” he looked down at his daughters, “because Daddy and Uncle Jon have to talk about work stuff for a bit so you need to be quiet ok?”
“We’ll be good.” Cassie chanted. I rolled my eyes at his tactics but his eyes were alight with happiness and joy and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if we could make this work we would. He looked back at me, his big grin melting my heart as the girls already started chattering to him about what type and what size of milkshake he would let them have.
I laughed as he pulled them with him towards the end of the street, following behind them and looking back briefly at what I knew would someday be a home away from home.
~
That night, rather predictably, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find Cal standing there in a winter coat with a tartan scarf tucked in under his chin, his glasses on, his hair windswept. He was probably the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Hi.” He said, and I was a little concerned about how much I loved his uncertainty. “Can I come in?”
I stood out of the way he walked to the kitchen, removing his scarf, his coat, and then, unapologetically, his shoes. I rolled my eyes at him as he smiled a tentative smile and sat at the breakfast bar.
“What are you doing, Cal?”
He turned, feigning nonchalance. “I thought we could order a takeaway. Have you already eaten?”
I shook my head with a small smile and walked up to join him.
“How’s the flat hunt going?” I asked, as I rounded the other side of the breakfast bar, and took a seat opposite him, pouring him a glass of wine from the bottle I’d been halfway through. He accepted it mutely.
He nodded. “Okay. Most of the stuff I’ve seen is too expensive or doesn’t have any space outside, which I guess I’m going to have to get used to. Lucas told me I could go and live with him if I wanted, but he lives in the middle of nowhere.”
I smiled. Surrey was apparently the middle of nowhere to Cal, who used to live in a mansion in the country.
He sipped his wine thoughtfully, looking at me with such hope in his eyes I couldn’t quite bear it. I knew that no matter how appealing Cal living with me might sound in my head, my flat was too tiny and he was too explosive for me to even consider it.
“I hope you find somewhere.” I said sincerely.
“I will. I’ve got some more viewings later this week,” He put down his glass and stared at me.
“What?”
“I need to know whether you’ve forgiven me.”
I looked at him for a long moment, clutching at the anger I was so desperately trying to cling onto. “That is a hard no.”
He ran his hands through his hair, stood up and walked to the other side of the room. Then he turned and walked back.
“My Dad hasn’t been in touch today. Or yesterday. Thea hates him, she said that at least thirty percent of the other investors hate him too and she’s agreed that if Martin says yes she’ll pay for the renovations in their entirety for a 10% stake in the business. It’s a lot, I know, and Thea is very ambitious, so we’ll need to cross that bridge if she goes through with her plans to start a chain. I thought this was a good solution. I like Martin, he’s good with people, but the business model will work, and isn’t something that’s been done before. The late night café idea is innovative and has a lot of possibilities to it for lots of different communities. He’s always wanted to be a chef and work his own restaurant and since the planning application fell through -”
I slammed my glass down on the counter at that and he jumped. “Tell me right now you didn’t have anything to fucking do with that.” I could feel pure rage coursing through me.
His eyes went wide and then his expression hardened. “Do you actually think I’m my father? Of course I didn’t. Martin told me. The council are notoriously difficult with that kind of application and you were fighting an uphill battle anyway as it’s a listed building – which he also told me.”
I breathed out. “Okay. Good…”
“Jesus Jay. I can be pretty selfish but I’m not going to railroad your planning application so I can own a stake in your business.”
“Do you trust Thea?”
“As much as I trust anyone. She’ll start you off and it’ll be an investment for her, but don’t expect that you won’t have to buy her out if you choose to go independent.”
“Noted.”
His hands fell to his sides and he looked at me with a look that I was finding harder and harder to resist.
“When you first started working for my Dad I realised very quickly that really you were working with me. I didn’t know how lucky I was and I took you for granted at every turn until I realised just how hard you worked to protect me, despite every stunt I tried to pull.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know where this is going, and I know it’s going to be a nightmare once the press gets hold of us. You haven’t been involved with the paparazzi much so that’s a new level of hell you can chalk up to being my fault.” He sighed. “I can’t imagine doing any of this without you, Jay. You’re just in my life, in my bones, now. I don’t want this to be over. Please tell me how I can make it right.”
I stared at him, this beautiful young man who for some reason wanted to spend all of his time with a thirty seven year old, unemployed driver.
“Did you suggest Thea speak to Martin because you thought he was a good investment as a chef, or because of me?”
He looked worried. “I could lie and say it was because I knew after eating one cake that Martin was a genius, but honestly, I read between the lines of what you were trying to do from the little Martin had told me and I knew that with backing you’d do it. I wanted to help, Jay. That’s all. It just so happened I could help you and help myself at the same time. I’m not selfless with much, but I think you’ll succeed or I would never have suggested it.”
He walked over to me and I didn’t even have the strength to stop him.
“Tell me what I can do.”
“Nothing. You’re an irritating little shit.”
“Who you love, apparently.” I gave him a warning glare but he just smiled softly at me, looking at my mouth. “Can I kiss you?”
“No.”
“Oh, go on.” He said happily and I smiled. He put his arms around my waist and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. “I have been dreaming about fucking you again.”
“If anyone is gonna fuck anybody it’s me. You fucked me over enough this past week.”
“Oh,” he said brightly. “You did mention that when people beg they’re generally on their knees.
I swallowed as his fingers started undoing my jeans and I jerked my hands down to stop him. He looked up, startled, probably thinking I was going to kick him out.
“Cal, this isn’t a good idea.”
“You’re not getting rid of me.” His voice was defiant. “I know you want me, I know I want you, the rest will sort itself out, now can you please order a takeaway and let me blow you.”
“At the same time?” He looked up at me and just gave me a cocky grin.
“Try it, I’ll see which one of us is more successful.” Then he tugged down my jeans and sucked me into his mouth and I groaned as I dialed the number.
EPILOGUE
12 months later
I woke up to the sun streaming through the high windows of my flat and rolled over to see an empty bed next to me. That wasn’t so unusual on a Saturday; Cal was so busy these days he always took the opportunity of my later starts to get work done in the mornings.
To my surprise, a few weeks after everything in my life had spectacularly exploded and was slowly being pieced back together again, I received a call from Irene Mathison, my previous client and friend. She was back in the UK for a year with a much bigger portfolio of work to be getting on with, and she offered me my old job back.
I say ‘offered’ but she essentially called me, after nearly three years since we last spoke, and told me without preamble that I needed to work for h
er again. She’d also been told by several friends that I’d been sacked by Donald Emerson for having illicit relations with his son, which, luckily for me, she found utterly hilarious.
The money wasn’t nearly as good, but Irene was wonderful and we had a mutual adoration for each other which Cal found both appalling and amusing in equal measure. She was a dragon to everyone on Earth apart from the people who worked for her, namely me and her lovely PA, Helen. She ran us both ragged but even after only a few months working for her she was, I teased Cal, my favourite client to date.
Cal and I had had a rough start when Cal left his Dad’s business. As much as I had hoped Donald Emerson would leave him alone that had been the absolute opposite of what happened. Cal’s father interfered in everything, so much so that I thought at one point Cal would never be able to shake the stigma of his father’s name.
One thing we had both learned anew and been reminded of too many times to count in recent months was that how you treat people matters. Cal may have had his father breathing down his neck at every venture he tried, but after a while the comments about Donald Emerson became sarcastic, instead of ominous, and because of Cal’s dedication and long grueling hours at his own work, he had shown that he was a businessman in his own right, and he was a lot easier to deal with than his father. It had paid in dividends and his success was only really just beginning.
The long hours, however, both with my work and with his, had meant for the first five months I had barely seen him. Sometimes I would come home and he would already be asleep when I tried to call him or I would be on the road with Irene for several days and I would get back and he would be too busy to come over.
It had taken an evening of awkward and achingly sad silences for me to finally address the issue, feeling as though the inevitable conclusion was that we couldn’t continue to see each other, and Cal had burst into tears.