“Tell me why you wanted to avoid this.”
Clint darted a quick glance his way before returning his attention out the window. He remained silent for several seconds before finally answering. “I always give them something to write about.” Dropping his gaze, he added quietly, “Even when I don’t want to.”
“Such as?”
“Last year, Hailey and I got into it over something stupid. I ended up drinking too much and forgot the names of some very important people. The names I did remember I got wrong. To cover up what a dumbass I am, I grabbed two of the hottest women there and offered them each an obscene amount of money to pose in a few exposing yet expected photos of me.”
Evan remembered the story. It was a rather unflattering tale of how Clint Duke got drunk and had to be escorted home by two escorts.
He rubbed his temples and relaxed in the seat. “I’m tired, Evan. I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m tired of smiling for the cameras when I’d rather shove the goddamn things right up the paparazzi’s collective ass. But, more than anything, I’m tired of hiding.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Evan took his hand, hope tightening his chest.
Clint looked at him. “Maybe I am.”
“Clint, I—” He held his tongue when Clint’s gaze darted toward the front of the car. Evan followed his eyes to see the driver watching them intently. As soon as he noticed his passengers watching him back he glued his gaze on the road.
Evan and Clint exchanged looks and took their hands back.
Shit. Shit. The driver had to have seen that. Straight men didn’t hold hands. Evan was openly gay. If the driver wanted a nice fat check, he could take the story to any tabloid for the next front-page story and expose Clint.
Evan refused to let that happen.
24
Evan didn’t like the way the driver kept glancing back, way too interested in his passengers. He leaned toward Clint and muttered, “Should we be worried?”
“All drivers sign an NDA.” Clint then shot the driver a look. “If he breaches the contract, I’ll end him.”
The driver returned his attention to the road and bristled. Evan shook his head. Pissing off the guy who could expose him wasn’t exactly smart.
They pulled up to the hotel, and the driver jumped out to open the door for Clint. As Clint stepped out and buttoned his tux, he gave the driver a curt nod and moved past him.
Evan slid out and buttoned his tux before reaching out for the driver’s hand. The driver frowned at his hand and then slowly took it.
Evan gave him a firm shake. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For driving us.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Coming, Evan?” Clint called back.
Evan grinned at the driver. “That’s my cue. You know how the Dukes don’t like those in their employment to disappoint them. They have high expectations.”
The driver straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. “I’m very good at my job.”
“Obviously or you wouldn’t be one of their drivers. In fact, I’m sure you’re one of Grant Duke’s most trusted drivers.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Why else would the agency recommend you to drive his favorite nephew to such an important event?” Evan countered.
“I am the first one he calls.”
“For good reason. The Dukes personally pick out each and every driver. Clint Duke is very selective on who he lets on his staff.” Evan hid his grin at the true meaning behind that remark.
“Evan, now.” Clint glared at him.
“Gotta go.”
“Don’t want to disappoint,” the driver repeated Evan’s words back to him.
Evan waved as he hurried over to Clint.
“What the hell was that about?” Clint demanded as Evan joined him.
Evan turned and waved at the driver. “Wave at him and smile.”
“What the fu—”
“Just do it.”
Clint turned, flashed a brilliant grin, and waved. The driver beamed and waved back, and the cameras went wild.
“Problem solved.”
“And just when are you going to fill me in on why I waved at the driver like long lost friends when we’ve never met?”
“Because now he’ll never turn on you.” They stopped at the doorman.
“Invitation, please.” A man with dark sunglasses wore no expression as he held up the clipboard in his hands.
Evan reached into his pocket. His empty pocket. He smiled nervously and checked the other pocket. Then every pocket, a deep sinking feeling twisting in his gut. Where the hell did it go?
“Evan? Where’s the invitation?”
“I just had it.” He checked his pockets again. That sinking feeling only grew. He had to have left it in the car. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t bother.” Clint stepped forward. “I’m Clint Duke.”
“I know who you are, sir.”
“This is Evan McKoy, my assistant. He goes where I go.”
“Yes, Mr. Duke. Sorry. Mrs. Duke said you’d be coming alone.”
Clint stiffened. “My mother is already here?”
The security guard nodded.
Clint rolled his eyes and walked inside, the tension in his shoulders visibly evident. Evan hurried after him.
“Everyone has a price,” Clint stated, bringing their conversation back to the driver.
“You can’t put a price on loyalty.”
“I wish more people held the same standards as you.”
“So do I,” Evan said with a nod.
They followed the signs into the main ballroom, and Evan tried not to seem too starstruck when they walked in. Men, women, and even children he’d only read about mingled with each other. He stayed at Clint’s side, smiling and nodding at stars who were even more beautiful in person.
A handsome couple approached, and Evan immediately recognized them from the lobby last week. He leaned toward Clint and whispered. “Senator Robinson and a Ms. Waverly—not his wife. He supports welfare reform, and we like him for that.”
Clint grinned and shook the man’s hand. “Senator Robinson. So good to see you again. I hope your front on welfare reform is going well.”
The senator lifted his brow. “Clint Duke remembers my name, let alone my cause. How impressive.”
“And Ms. Waverly.” Clint’s grin widened as he glanced at the enormous set of jewels adorning her neck. “I saw that very set in the window at Kelley’s. Very smart choice in jewelry. Kelley’s has quite the superior selection.”
“Thank you, Mr. Duke. I just love you,” she gushed.
“I bet you say that to all the billionaires.” He gave her a wink and she blushed clean down to her peep-toe shoes.
“If you’ll excuse me, I must meet up with some of the others I came to see.” Senator Robinson led the young Ms. Waverly away, and they disappeared into the crowd.
“Thank you.” Clint reached over and momentarily squeezed Evan’s hand. “I didn’t have a clue who that man was.”
“Senator Robinson lives in your building.”
“He does?”
Evan looked at Clint. “He does.”
“Good to know.” He then curled his lip as another man approached. “Ugh. I hate this guy.”
This man needed no introduction. Evan knew him by reputation. Marco Bianchi, in the leathery flesh.
“He’s even uglier in person,” Evan mused as a man with a terrible black dye job and way too many chains around his neck approached. He looked even cheesier in person. A leisure suit? Really? Who wore those anymore? He hated the man on sight, despite Evan keeping him in business by buying his gossip magazine every week.
“Wait until he opens his mouth. He runs that sleazy tabloid, Insider Confidential.”
“I know.”
Clint eyed him.
“Clint Duke,�
�� Bianchi sang in a voice that personified the sleaze he was. “I see you finally got smart and hired an assistant that wouldn’t land you on the cover of my paper.”
“Marco, what brings you out of your hole?”
Bianchi smiled to reveal several gold teeth. Evan held back a groan. This guy just got cheesier and cheesier.
“Holy shit. Clint Duke knows my name? I can die a complete man now.”
“I’m glad to give you that final nail in your coffin.”
Bianchi grinned. “I’m one of the millionaires up for auction. May the best man win.”
“This isn’t a competition. With us donating our time, it’s the kids who win.”
Bianchi’s grin wilted as he glanced around at how many women smiled politely at him and then beamed at Clint. He then nodded at Evan. “Does the assistant have a name?”
“This is Evan McKoy,” Clint introduced. Several cameras flashed. Clint raised his voice as he addressed everyone within earshot. “He’s not only head of the prestigious personal shopper department at Kelley’s, but he’s also my personal assistant. It looks as if you could use his service.”
Bianchi straightened, insulted. “I already have a personal assistant, one who takes care of all my needs.”
“I’d have her fired,” Evan said as he looked at Bianchi’s leisure suit.
“I see your assistant has your attitude, Duke.”
“It’s a prerequisite for the job,” Clint countered.
Bianchi grinned, showing off his gaudy gold teeth. “I’ll see you on the next front page. Have a lot of fun tonight, and don’t worry—I’ll be sure to have my people capture it all. You do keep me in business.”
Clint took a breath, and Evan felt him tense. He had to do something before Clint let loose and really did end up on the front of the paper, this time for beating the shit out of Marco Bianchi.
“Mr. Duke, we promised your sister and mother that we’d only be a minute.”
Clint puffed out his impressive chest. “Thank you, Evan. If you’ll excuse me.”
“He’s an asshole,” Evan commented when they were out of earshot.
“Did you see what he was wearing? 1975 called. They’d like their outfit back.”
Evan laughed. “You’re doing great, by the way.”
“Because of you.”
“We make a great team.”
Clint looked at him. “That we do.”
That they did. As they made their way to the bar, Evan pointed out those he knew to avoid from his obsession with the tabloids and those to make it a point to talk to. Clint nailed every name—with Evan’s help of course—and was charming as hell.
“It’s about time you said hello.” Maureen Duke, matriarch of Duke Enterprises and who’d spent most of her time and effort trying to look half her age, lifted a glass of clear liquid to her lips and took a long drink, leaving a half ring of bright red lipstick on the rim.
She had the same hypnotic brown eyes as Clint, but the resemblance ended there. She was small, petite even, and as she smiled, the warmth never reached her eyes. In fact, her face barely moved, but then again with all that Botox, it probably never would again. She wore her bottled-blonde waves pulled high into a classic French roll. The diamonds dangling from her aged earlobes matched the large necklace gracing her delicate neck.
The woman sitting next to her bore more of a resemblance to Clint, but not by much. It seemed her mother’s propensity for plastic surgery had carried through to the daughter.
Hailey Duke was a very beautiful woman, with chocolate-brown eyes, thick waves of dark hair she wore off to one side and down her shoulder, and a sun-kissed body that filled out the Vera Wang gown as if it were made for her.
Clint forced a grin as he first kissed his mother’s cheek and then his sister’s.
“Is that all I get, Clinty?” Hailey hopped off her seat and hugged her brother. Although stiff and clearly didn’t want to, he hugged her back.
Clinty? Evan would have to remember that one.
“Mother, Hailey, I’d like to introduce you to my new assistant, Evan. Evan, this is—”
“Maureen Duke,” Evan cut in. “Former model, although it looks like you may have retired a bit early. You are even more beautiful in person.” He kissed her hand and watched as she blushed three shades of crimson.
“My, my, my, Evan. You are quite the charmer.” She batted her heavily painted eyes, flirting shamelessly.
Thanks, but I already have the Duke I want.
“And Hailey Duke,” Evan charmed as he turned to the younger woman. “You are stunning in that Vera Wang. This dress had to have been custom-made for you. Nothing off the rack fits this well.”
“You know your fashion. She had her people sew me into it not more than a few hours ago. This is part of her new line. I’m showcasing it tonight.”
“That you are,” he agreed with an appreciative grin. “I suspect several of Hollywood’s finest will see you in this dress and beg to have one of their own.”
Hailey smiled and licked her lips before biting down on one side of her lower lip. “Would you like a drink, Evan?”
He brought up his hand. “I’m on the clock.”
“Clinty.” She pouted. “Let the man have a bit of fun. One drink.”
Evan turned and grinned at Clint. “Yes, Clinty. What’s one drink?”
“One drink,” he growled through clenched teeth. “And Evan? Call me Clinty again and you’re fired.”
“Yes, sir.”
“He’s cute, Clint.” Maureen slid over one stool to be closer, her eyes undressing Evan. “Don’t you think he’s cute, Hailey?”
“He’s adorable. I could just eat him up.” She thrust out her lower lip. “Too bad he bats for the other team.”
“I worked in modeling for years, dear. I know.” Maureen’s smile widened. “Maybe he just hasn’t met the right woman.”
Evan caught himself before rolling his eyes. Like he’d never heard that before. “Ladies, I’m flattered.”
“Do you have a boyfriend, Evan?” Hailey played with the straw in her drink, mouthing it suggestively.
“Uh,” he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly very warm. How should he answer that? If he said no, they’d continue to come on to him. If he said yes, they’d press him for more.
“Bachelors, if you’d please join us on stage, we’ll get you settled in.” The announcer’s voice sounded above the soft music. “The event is about to start.”
“That’s my cue.” Clint nodded at the women before holding Evan’s gaze. “Try not to get into any trouble.”
“Or what? You’ll spank him? He’s your assistant, not your child.” Hailey batted her eyes at her brother. “Or is there something you’re not telling us, Clinty?”
He shook his head and walked off, leaving Evan alone with the Duke women, both eyeing him like he was their next meal. When they flanked him and Hailey’s fingers traced the shoulder seam of his jacket, Evan jumped out of reach.
“What’s the matter?” she purred, a knowing grin sending her eyes into a dance. “Don’t you like me?”
“It’s not appropriate.” Or even a little okay.
“Why not? Clinty likes to steal my boyfriends. Why can’t I steal his?”
That shocked him. Clint had said Hailey kept it a secret to hold it over him. What he’d just witnessed, and was still uncomfortably witnessing, told an entirely different story.
“Hailey, that’s enough.” Maureen sipped at her drink. “Clint isn’t gay. Honestly, I don’t know why you keep up with that story. You simply didn’t hold that boy’s interest. It was years ago. Accept it and move on, for Christ’s sake.”
She lost her smile and glared at her mother. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure he didn’t bring Evan under the guise of an assistant when he’s really his boyfriend?”
Damn. Hailey was far more perceptive than Clint gave her credit for. Evan made a mental note to tell him about this so the man wouldn’t co
ntinue to think his sister had something over him.
“Not this again. Why must you insist on smearing your brother’s good name?”
“What good name? He chases anything in a skirt.”
“And yet you insist he’s gay,” Maureen laughed coolly.
“I said chase, not sleep.”
That escalated quickly. Evan blew out a breath and glanced around, wishing he were anywhere else but in the middle of a Duke cat fight.
“I can’t deal with your drama tonight.” Maureen stood and grabbed her drink. “Evan, it was a pleasure meeting you. If anyone needs me, I’ll be drunk.”
“At least some things never change,” Hailey fired back. They exchanged poisonous glares. “Sorry about that,” she offered after her mother moved to the other side of the bar. “It’s not a true Duke party unless claws are drawn.”
Evan stayed out of reach, not trusting the woman’s sudden change in attitude. One breath ago she wanted to steal him from Clint. Now she talked to him like they were friends. Neither would ever happen.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She tossed her hair to the other shoulder. “You think you’re the first guy he’s brought around with the label of assistant?” She used air quotes on the last word and grabbed her drink before finishing her thought with the glass resting against her lips. “Or the last?”
Evan knew he wasn’t Clint’s first, assistant or otherwise. They both had a past. He couldn’t fault the guy for that.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Why are you just looking at me? Why aren’t you saying anything? Or does my dear brother have his little pet on strict orders not to speak?”
He stiffened. She knew about Clint’s arrangements?
“I know.” She must have read his body language.
“How?”
“How do you think I found him and Jack?” She rolled her eyes again.
“Do you really hate him so much that you’d keep torturing him like this?”
“How am I torturing him?”
Evan Page 23