Evan inched closer to keep their conversation private. “This auction, for starters. You know how much he hates it. Parading around, being forced to take a woman on a date. He’s gay, Hailey. This is cruel.”
Her mouth fell open. “Cruel? No, Evan. You want to know what’s cruel? The way my brother insists on putting everyone’s needs ahead of his own. He comes across as this hero with a dazzling smile for the cameras. It’s only to hide the fact he’s so miserable it makes me cry for him since he won’t even do that for himself.” Her eyes misted, and she drew in several breaths. “I don’t hate him. I hate that he won’t stand up for who he really is. Talk about torture.”
“I’m sorry,” he finally admitted after finding his voice. He leaned next to her. “Does he know how you feel?”
“No.” She drained her glass and hopped off the stool. “We Dukes don’t work like that. We don’t share our feelings. We keep them bottled up until we snap. Or drop dead from a heart attack.” She glanced across the bar at her mother. “Some of us wash them down with a little help from Grey Goose. Others force her sibling to do things she knows he hates in the hopes he’ll finally stand up for himself and admit to the rest of the world what she already knows.”
“And that is?”
“That he deserves so much more than he’s allowing himself to have.” She rested her hand on his cheek. “Maybe you’ll be the one to convince him of that.”
“Maybe.” He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles.
“What was that for?”
“Because you, Ms. Hailey Duke, surprise me. Not many do.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “If only you swung both ways. Take care of him, Evan.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He held his grin as he watched her walk toward the door. When he recognized the man she just greeted with a hug and kiss on the cheek, the smile slid from his face and hit the floor.
Grant Duke, and in his hand, the invitation Evan had accidentally left on the desk in the den.
25
“Let the bidding begin at ten thousand.”
Clint stood on the giant red-carpeted staircase that held the men being auctioned off, hating having to stand under lights that made it a hundred degrees inside his tux. As each man had his turn on the podium, the rest of them descended another few steps until Marco Bianchi and Clint Duke were the last two on the stairs.
Once the gavel came down on the final bid for the man currently on the podium, Bianchi took the stage with a haughty arrogance about him that made him look like the cheeseball he was. Clint scanned the crowd for Evan.
When he spotted him by the door, Clint squinted to get a better look at the other man but couldn’t make him out. Jealousy bit into him. He didn’t like Evan talking to any other man, let alone one Clint couldn’t get a clear visual on.
“Shall we start the bidding at ten thousand?” The auctioneer held up the gavel.
The women in the audience weren’t even looking at Bianchi. The ones with bidder’s cards in their hands had their hungry gazes glued on Clint. He swallowed hard and returned his attention to the door, stiffening when Evan and the other man were no longer there.
Where’d they go?
“How about seven thousand? Do I hear seven thousand for Mr. Bianchi?”
Clint curled one side of his mouth into a grin. The bastard wasn’t even worth bidding on, which gave him a sense of satisfaction.
“Seven thousand!”
“I’ll give you eight thousand dollars to get him off the stage so we can bid on Clint Duke!” a woman who’d been eyeing Clint all night called out.
Several other women clapped and cheered.
“Nine thousand!” the original bidder shouted out. No one else lifted their bidder card.
“Sold.” The woman pounded the gavel and motioned for Bianchi to leave the stage.
He narrowed his eyes at the woman with the gavel then turned to Clint as he started off the stage. “Be sure to have a lot of fun tonight, Duke. I’ve got the presses running late to print tomorrow’s headline.”
Knowing his excursions had helped to make this man a millionaire sickened Clint. He curled his lip. “Not this time.”
“We’ll see.” He walked to the woman who’d won him and held out his arm. She accepted it and hooked hers with his. They approached the bar together, the woman giggling as Bianchi leaned in to whisper in her ear.
“And finally, the bachelor of the hour, Clint Duke.”
The audience rustled, and the hum of excitement floated into the air as he took the stage. He grinned as the cameras flashed, blinding him. The lights also blinded him, and he could no longer see into the audience. Damn it. Where the hell was Evan?
“Shall we start the bidding at—”
“Ten thousand!”
“Fifteen!”
“Twenty!”
The bidding went wild and climbed to fifty thousand dollars before a familiar voice spoke above the crowd. Clint shielded his eyes from the lights to see.
“Seventy-five thousand,” Patsy Cline shouted and spiked her brow at the other women, challenging them to bid against her.
“Eighty.” Another woman accepted her challenge.
“One hundred.”
The women glared at each other. That lethal look in Patsy’s eyes scared the hell out of Clint, and it wasn’t even centered on him. He could only imagine how it made the other woman feel.
With a nod to concede, the woman lowered her bidder’s card. Patsy grinned triumphantly and thrust out her chin as she turned to Clint.
He gave her a wink, and several woman in the audience sighed.
“Sold!” The auctioneer slammed the gavel down. “I believe that’s a new record, ladies and gentlemen. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening. To our bachelors, show your ladies how much you appreciate their generosity.”
Clint stepped off the stage and over to his date for the night. Everyone stared as he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Camera flashes went off like an electrical storm.
“I’m Clint Duke.”
“I’m thirsty.”
He laughed and nodded. Same old Patsy. “Let me get us something to drink. What would you like?”
“Do they have a keg at this thing?”
Why didn’t that request surprise him? “Should I have your beer put in a glass? Or would you prefer a Red Solo Cup?”
“I’m only kidding. I only drink the good stuff. Something top shelf. I paid a lot of money for you to be an errand boy for a change. Speaking of, where’s Evan?”
“I don’t know.” And he didn’t like that fact. He also didn’t like the fact he still had no idea who Evan had been talking to before he disappeared.
“It’s your turn to watch him, dear.” She smiled sweetly.
“I didn’t realize we were taking turns.”
“Of course, we are. He’s mine during work hours and on Saturdays for brunch. Maybe the occasional taco Tuesday. That’s negotiable. The rest of the time, he’s yours. Well, except the first Thursday of the month. That’s drag night at the club.”
“Do either of you dress in drag?” How did he not know that about the man he planned to spend the rest of his life with?
“No.” She closed the subject without an explanation, something he picked up as just something she did. “Oh, and every other Wednesday is ladies’ night at this joint in West Seattle we like.”
“Why would Evan go to a ladies’ night?”
“For free drinks. Duh. He’s not the only lady who goes.” She gave him a look. “You need to get with the times, Mr. Duke.”
“Clearly.” He scanned the crowd, grinding his teeth when he still didn’t spot Evan. “Patsy, why don’t I meet you at the bar? I’m going to go find Evan and have him join us.”
“Hey, Clint! How about we get a picture with the lovely lady?”
He glanced over his shoulder at several members of the paparazzi. With a groan he turned and slipped a hand across Patsy’s shoulders. She snuggled into him and sighed. Th
e cameras flashed and captured the moment.
“How about a smile, big boy?” She battled her big blue eyes.
“Can we just go?” Clint mumbled.
“Just a few more.” She posed like this wasn’t her first time in front of a camera. “Come on, Clint. Smile like you mean it.”
“I hate having my picture taken.”
“Then maybe you should stop making an ass of yourself every time you’re in public.” She said the entire insult without moving her beautiful smile.
He mimicked the gesture and posed with her. “It keeps them distracted.”
“Is that what you think it’s doing? You are so, so wrong.” She smiled wider. “By the way, you owe me a hundred-thousand dollars. Evan says you’re good for it. I don’t take checks.”
He laughed, and the cameras went wild, capturing the scene. After several more shots, he dropped the grin and brought up his hands. “That’s enough. Please, let me take this lovely lady on the date she paid for.”
“Do you two know each other?”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Is she an escort?”
Clint placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her away from the swarm of reporters all hoping to get the scoop. “Ignore them.”
“Oh, honey. I always do. This ain’t my first time in front of cameras. Come on. Let’s go find our Evan.”
“Let’s.” And demand he tell them where the hell he’d disappeared.
“Patsy Cline? Is that you?” A good-looking man in a dark suit approached. “Remember me?”
Patsy grinned wide and rolled out of Clint’s hold, leaving him standing alone. Which, of course, the cameras caught. “Joshua? What are you doing here?”
He turned in a circle and held his arms out. “I had to show off this suit you fitted me with.” He finished his turn and faced them. “So, you’re the lucky lady to win Clint Duke. Or is that the other way around?”
“He’s definitely the lucky one,” she said and laughed. Clint rolled his eyes with a grin.
Joshua moved close to Patsy. He turned to her. She turned to him. And, just like that, Clint no longer existed, which had never happened to him. Ever.
She ran her fingers along his jacket’s lapel. “It definitely fits you well.”
“Thanks to you.” He took her hand in his.
What was happening? Did he just lose his date? He had to leave with her. It was in the rules. Besides, how would it look if the woman who paid a hundred grand for a night with him left with another man?
“Clint!”
He whipped around, grinning when he spotted Evan hurrying toward him. His smile wilted the closer the man got. Fear, wild and vivid, flashed in his wide eyes. “Evan?”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Clint glanced around, at how Evan’s panicked approach had attracted attention. “Unless you want it in tomorrow’s paper, you’ll wait until we’re in private.”
“But—” He snapped his mouth closed when Clint gave him a subtle hand signal. “Yes, sir.”
“Should we go someplace private?” He leaned in, whispering, “Like our playroom?”
When he pulled back, their gazes snagged and held. Evan licked his lips and nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”
He grinned, drawing the same from Evan. They held each other’s gazes, lost and loving every heated minute of it.
The flash of a camera pulled them both from their spell. It took several seconds before Clint could see again. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. “Damn, those flashes get brighter and brighter. I hope they got Patsy’s good side with that one.”
“Uh, Clint?” Evan pointed at Patsy and Joshua, now at the bar. “I don’t think that picture was of Patsy.”
They exchanged looks and both paled. It wouldn’t take a leap to put it together. They practically undressed each other with their hungry eyes. “This is bad.”
“This is really bad,” Evan added. “Do you know who took it?”
“It’s a feeding frenzy in here for freelance photographers. With this many stars in one room, one night of photos will set them up for a month. One good story could set them up for life.”
“What do we do?”
“We get the hell out of here before we do something else to get our photo taken.”
Evan turned toward the bar. “We have to leave with Patsy. It’s in the rules. She paid one hundred-thousand dollars for you.”
“I paid one hundred-thousand dollars for me,” he corrected. “Apparently someone told her I was good for it.”
Evan colored to his ears. “About that.”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“No, it’s—”
“Clinton, we need to talk.”
Clint whipped around, momentarily shocked at who’d finally left his mansion. “Uncle?”
“That,” Evan finished his thought. “Come on, Grant. Not here.”
“Not here?” Clint jumped his attention between them several times. Evan’s eyes were wide, pleading. Grant’s were narrow, threatening. The two were in some sort of standoff. And in front of a sea of reporters. “Evan is right. Not here.”
“Last chance, homo.”
“That’s enough!” Out or not, Clint refused to allow his uncle to talk to his partner like that.
Grant lifted his eyebrows, his attention still on Evan, who shook his head and mouthed the word no. With a sigh and a shake of his own head in response, Grant turned to Clint. “Clinton, your assistant was rifling through my papers, gathering God only knows what to sell to God only knows who. Don’t believe me? Here’s proof.” He tossed the missing invitation to the floor between them.
He knelt and retrieved it, too stunned to do anything else. Evan McKoy, the man he thought he loved, the man he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with, was a goddamn reporter?
“Still not going to talk? Not willing to come clean?” He shook his head when Evan did, indeed, remain silent. “That’s unfortunate. I hope whoever you’re protecting is worth more to you than the man you’re about to destroy.”
“Grant, don’t.” Evan’s voice shook. He regarded Clint. “I’m not a reporter. I swear.”
“Everyone, can I have your attention?” Grant addressed the crowd, talking over him. “I have something to tell you, something you didn’t know about my nephew.”
“Uncle?” Clint asked cautiously as he straightened. “What are you doing?”
“Telling them what you’ve spent your entire adult life hiding from them.”
“Grant?” Why would he do this? Why now? How did any of this involve Evan?
“Where’s that little blonde thing who won the bid?” He marched over to the bar and grabbed Patsy by the hand, dragging her into the spotlight. “My dear, you are going to want a refund.”
She jerked her hand from his. “Why would I want my money back?”
Clint’s stomach sank to the pit of despair. Did his uncle really hate him so much he’d resort to humiliating him like this? “Uncle Grant, please.”
“I won’t let you do this.” Evan stepped forward as Grant smiled triumphantly. When he took Clint’s hand, Grant dropped his smile. Clint was in too much of a state of shock to do anything. “I have something to tell you.” Evan cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath. “I’m gay.”
Shit, no. This was all wrong. His ears rang from the blood rushing to his head, inflaming his cheeks. He wanted to come out, but not like this. “What are you doing?”
“I can no longer live this lie. I’m gay.”
“You already said that,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“I’ve been in love with you since the first time we met. Maybe before that.”
“Evan.” He couldn’t say anything else. Hell, he couldn’t even breathe. The room tilted.
“It’s time to stop this charade. I’m an out and proud gay man in love with…” He paused and nodded. When Clint didn’t pick up on the cue, Evan’s shoulders dropped.
His expression saddened. “Say something.”
Clint still couldn’t breathe.
“Interesting,” Grant jumped in. “So much for true love, if your kind can even feel love.”
He was going to be sick.
“I spoke with my chauffeur,” Grant went on, driving that dagger deeper into Clint’s world. “He said you two were holding hands. You even kissed.”
“We never kissed,” Clint barked and then cussed when he realized his denial actually confessed to everything else. His reality shattered. All his previous contracts. All his previous lovers. Sometimes one in the same. Other times not. Regardless, they were all about to be under attack. Everything he’d done to protect them.
He’d failed.
“Clint,” Evan pleaded and squeezed his hand. “Just tell them.”
Clint shook his head, unsure what to do. “I-I can’t.”
“You can’t? Or you won’t.”
“Evan, not like this.”
“If not now, it’ll never happen.” He let Clint’s hand slip and backed away, disappearing in the crowd closing in.
“Are you gay?” one of the photographers shouted out.
“Mr. Duke, how about a photo of you and your boyfriend?”
“Let’s get a picture of the happy couple.”
“Clint Duke? Gay? This will definitely make the next front page!”
“Show us a kiss!”
The flashes were like a lightning storm, robbing Clint of his senses as he pushed through them to find Evan and demand answers. Why would he do something like this? And in front of the press. He was ruined. Ruined!
“Evan!” He yelled above the shouts, reporters begging for answers Clint would never give, not until he had a few of his own. He turned in circles but couldn’t find him in the sea of paparazzi.
After several painful, panicked seconds, he stopped his frantic search and stood there, stunned, as the paparazzi continued to snap pictures. He barely saw them, barely heard the demands for answers, his gaze instead focused on the main door as he caught Evan glance over his shoulder.
“Good-bye, Clint.”
26
“Congrats, big brother.” Meg interrupted his peaceful drive from the Farm into the city with the news that TREX had canceled their inquiry on the CEO of Duke Enterprises. “With us shifting our focus to Grant Duke, we already found the paper trail leading us to most of the missing money. It’s just a greedy uncle stealing from his nephew’s company. Therefore, it’s not our problem. You are free to bang your boss.”
Evan Page 24