by Onley James
“I’m willing to risk far more than that. Do we have a deal, gentlemen? Or not?” Gideon asked, growing impatient.
“We’ll have to clear it with our boss, but yeah. You have a deal,” Langston said.
“Good. But if this is going to work, Shea’s going to need to make a phone call and he’s gonna have to be convincing.”
Callum checked the clock again. It was after six, and Gideon still wasn’t home. It was just as well. The Korean place said delivery would be at least an hour. But still, Cal was restless. He’d taken Alexa outside to play fetch in the empty lot behind the building. He’d folded and hung up his laundry. He’d even reorganized his underwear drawer. He was two seconds away from taking a label maker to their toy chest. Was butt plug one word or two?
When the doorbell rang, he practically dove for it. He swung the door open expecting to find their usual delivery boy, Adam, but, instead, found an elderly silver-haired woman in a black pantsuit with diamonds dripping from her ears big enough to buy Cal a lifetime supply of insulin.
“Well, you’re definitely not cold noodles,” Cal said with a nervous laugh, glancing outside the doorway, hoping, by some miracle, Gideon was right behind this mystery woman.
She looked him up and down in a way that made Cal feel exposed. He fought the urge to cover himself like he was naked instead of wearing athletic shorts and an orange hoodie.
“No, I most definitely am not,” she murmured, her voice low and throaty, like some old-timey jazz singer. “So, you’re what all the fuss is about.”
“I’m sorry, I thought you were the delivery guy.”
“Yes, I believe we established that. Are you going to invite me in, or should I just make myself comfortable out here?”
“Who are you?” Cal asked, still not extending an invitation.
Some ridiculous part of him thought maybe she was a vampire and this was a trap. She had that demeanor—cunning, cruel, calculating. Beautiful in the way that icicles were beautiful. Her silver hair was swept into a complicated pile with crystal pins, and her eyes were a beautiful ice blue. She could have easily passed for a woman half her age if not for the shrewdness of her gaze and her gnarled fingers, which were so riddled with arthritis the only way she could’ve removed her diamond rings would be to cut them free.
Who was she?
“My name is Rosalind Sands, and you’re Callum Whyte, are you not?”
Maybe she was a vampire. Cal gave a heavy sigh and stepped out of her way. She wasn’t leaving, and keeping her in the threshold was starting to feel rude. She took three steps inside and stopped short when she spied Alexa cleaning her paw on the bed. The dog froze, and the two females seemed to size each other up before each breaking their gaze.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Sands?” Cal asked before biting the inside of his cheek.
“Well, I don’t suppose I could convince you to just pack your bags and leave.”
Cal blinked at her. “What?”
“You’re ruining his life. You get that, right? He’s risking everything, his reputation, his career, and for what? A barely legal teen who’s going to be off like a shot the minute he meets a boy his own age.”
“You don’t even know me,” Cal said, even as his heart shredded in his chest.
“Of course, I do. You’re the child prostitute who weaseled his way into Leo’s bed and then fed him a sob story so he’d fall in love with you. This isn’t like in the movies. You’re not Cinderella, and he’s not going to make you the queen of his castle. Once he loses everything, his job, his friends, his credibility within the academic community, he’ll grow to resent you, and even if you don’t get sick of being with somebody over twice your age, he’ll get tired of you being an embarrassment. Do you think you can keep up with him academically? Do you think you won’t look ridiculous standing next to a crowd of scholars his age?”
“Why do you care?” Cal asked, doing his best to not let the woman see that she’d landed every barb and he was bleeding on the inside.
“Because Grant was my best friend, and he’d be rolling over in his urn if he knew that the love of his life had been swindled by some rent boy. Grant didn’t work his fingers to the bone, day in and day out, for Leo to be showering some hooker in diamonds.”
Cal’s heart hammered in his chest, and he had to remind himself to breathe. How did this woman know so much and so little at the same time? “Diamonds?” Cal laughed. “Diamonds? Does it look like I’m stashing a tiara somewhere?”
“Do you want a tiara, darling? Because I have gobs of them. If it’s money you’re after, just name your price and I’ll write the check and we can be done with this foolishness before the board pushes this matter any further.”
Cal laughed as he fought back tears. “Oh, my God. Are you actually trying to bribe me? This really feels like I’m trapped in a bad romantic comedy right now. I don’t want your fucking money. I don’t even know who you are, but I imagine if Gideon cared about you at all, he’d have at least mentioned your name. Since he’s already introduced me to his real friends, I think you should probably just go. Gideon’s very protective of me, so you probably won’t want to be here when he gets home.”
She smirked at him. “I didn’t imagine you’d do the right thing, but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to blow up Leo’s life without me at least attempting to reason with the two of you. In a few days, when your relationship goes public and Gideon is branded a pedophile, just remember I gave you the opportunity.”
Cal stormed to the door and flung it open. “I’m almost twenty years old, and you’re grasping at straws. But I’ll let him know you stopped by.”
Rosalind glided past him like she was on roller skates, giving him one last haughty look over her shoulder before she disappeared down the hallway. He didn’t breathe again until he heard the elevator ding. He closed the door and slid down it, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Alexa slid from the bed and stuck her face in his, licking his cheek and whining. “It’s okay, girl. She’s gone. The mean old lady is gone.”
Her body was gone, but her words bounced around in Cal’s skull. Was he ruining Gideon’s life? His career? Would his peers make fun of him or take his research less seriously because he was in a relationship with Cal? Would he need to hide Callum away? Would Gideon resent him?
He looked to the closet and then to the bathroom where his meds and test kit were. He could leave. He could pack everything and be out of there in minutes. But just that morning, Gideon had made Cal promise he’d never just disappear on him. Besides, he didn’t want to disappear. He didn’t want to leave Gideon and Alexa. This loft might not feel like their home, but Gideon felt like Cal’s home. Maybe he was selfish because he couldn’t allow himself to leave, to stand up and pack up and go before Gideon returned home.
He didn’t know how long he sat there on the floor, arms around Alexa, just staring off into space and feeling sorry for himself, but he didn’t move again until somebody attempted to swing open the door and hit the back of his head. “Ow,” he muttered.
He moved to allow Gideon to enter. He stepped inside and closed the door with his foot. Both of his hands were full. He had Korean food in one hand and his raincoat and umbrella in the other. He glanced down at Cal with amusement. “Any particular reason you’re sitting on the floor?”
“I ordered Korean food,” Cal said, staring at the containers in the cardboard box.
“Yes, I know. I ran into Adam in the lobby, so I snatched it from him so he didn’t have to make the extra trip upstairs. It’s pouring outside, so I imagine it’s a busy night for him.” Gideon set down the food on the counter and hung up his coat and umbrella before tugging Cal to his feet and kissing him in a way that made his toes curl. “That still doesn’t explain to me why you’re on the floor like you’re hiding from an intruder.”
“I was… Sort of.”
“Pardon?” Gideon said, his face falling, all hint of amusement gone.
&n
bsp; “Your friend Rosalind stopped by.”
Gideon froze. “What? Why? What did she want?”
“She told me she’d give me money to leave you. Any amount I wanted. She said if I stayed I’d be ruining your life and you’d resent me.”
Cal waited for Gideon to explode, but, instead, he laughed. Cal’s face must have revealed his confusion because Gideon hugged him close. “Don’t listen to a word that old bat says. I can’t tell you anything, but just know that her coming here is great news. It couldn’t be better for us, actually.”
“Did you hit your head or something? That woman has a vendetta against us. She said she’s going to have you branded a pedophile, that she’ll ruin your reputation and make the world discredit you.”
Gideon’s lips moved against the top of Cal’s head as he spoke. “Even if all that were true, I would still choose you. But I promise you, everything is going to be okay.”
“You keep saying that,” Cal murmured, praying it was true.
“That’s because I know what I’m doing,” Gideon chided. “I’m glad you didn’t leave.”
“I thought about it. I don’t want to be the reason your life falls apart.”
“If my life falls apart, it will be nobody's fault but mine. Besides, I wouldn’t want to spend all night searching for you to drag you home when we could be eating cold noodles and watching RuPaul’s Drag Race.”
Cal’s heart did cartwheels in his chest. “Does anybody else in the world know about your secret obsession with drag?”
Gideon chuckled. “Nope. Just you.”
Cal gave Gideon a chaste kiss. “Get changed, and I’ll cue up season three.”
They spent the next twenty minutes feeding each other noodles in their underwear, laughing at the television, debating style choices, and pointing out who should win and why. It was the first time in as long as Cal could remember where he didn’t feel like there was an agenda or a sick feeling in his stomach. He had never in his life felt so comfortable with another person, not his father, not Bastian. Nobody.
With the food put away, they snuggled on the sofa, Gideon playing big spoon as they teased each other with soft kisses and half-hearted foreplay, neither really interested in doing anything more than just touching and being touched. When Gideon’s hand settled on Cal’s bloated stomach, he tried to brush it away. “Stop rubbing my gut,” he cried.
“I can touch any part of you I like,” Gideon growled playfully, rubbing Cal’s belly as proof.
Cal shivered, smiling as he rocked back against him. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Besides, I like your belly,” Gideon said. “It means you're safe and well-fed and home with me.”
Cal laughed, only half-kidding when he said, “You only say that cause it will be gone by morning.”
Gideon scoffed. “I don’t care about that. I only care about you being healthy. That’s all that matters. In a few short years, I’ll be old, blind, and deaf, and you’ll be stuck taking care of me,” he teased.
Cal rolled in Gideon’s arms, kissing the only part he could reach, the underside of his chin, before burying his face against his chest. “Shut up. You are the healthiest, sexiest, most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. You’ll be sexy at sixty and seventy and…okay, you might look a little rough at eighty, but I’ll be old and blind by then too, so we’ll be old and wrinkled together.”
Gideon laughed. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured.
“You want to go to bed?” Gideon asked sometime later.
“I’m comfortable right here,” Cal mumbled, half-dozing, burrowing himself deeper into Gideon’s embrace, like he could somehow crawl inside him if he just believed hard enough.
Gideon’s chin rested on the top of his head while his knee was tucked between Gideon’s calves. Cal wanted to stay like this forever, but some small part of him knew it wouldn’t be possible. Gideon seemed more sure each day that he would get Cal back into Harvard, and when that time came, he would have to make peace with just seeing Gideon a few times a year. What if Gideon grew tired of waiting? What if proximity was really Cal’s greatest allure? What if he wanted to be in an open relationship so he could be with other boys while Cal was so far away? Could Cal let him go? He squeezed his eyes closed, willing the thoughts to go away, just for a little while longer.
Gideon rapped his knuckles quietly against the door of the dilapidated hotel room. It was opened by a man in jeans and a flannel shirt. It took a minute for Gideon to realize it was Simmons. He stood back to let Gideon enter. Inside were two other men with a series of tech equipment laid out on an ugly purple and green floral bedspread.
“You sure you want to do this?” Simmons asked. “You really think the Empress is going to feel like talking in the middle of the night?”
Gideon unbuttoned his dress-shirt. “I need to surprise her if I’m going to get her to talk. Besides, she opened the door when she ambushed Callum earlier. I need her weak if I’m going to get her to spill her guts. I need her to think that she’s never really known me at all.”
Simmons shrugged, taking a slug from an energy drink sitting on a scarred desk. “I hope you’re right. Shea hasn’t been able to get shit out of any of them in months.”
“Yeah, well Shea’s not exactly James Bond. He caved five minutes into my first meeting with him. If he’s who you’re counting on to help you close this investigation, you boys better get real comfortable in this hotel room.”
Simmons scoffed, giving a begrudging nod. “Listen, the only way this works is if you get her on tape breaking down the entire operation. She can’t just agree with what you say. She needs to cop to the whole thing herself, and the more people she names, the more pressure we have to break them down later.”
“Yeah, I got it,” Gideon snapped.
The agent didn’t seem to take his short temper to heart. Gideon wasn’t mad at Simmons. He was annoyed that he’d had to leave his warm bed and a softly snoring Cal, who was curled up with Alexa, so he could sneak out to a dirty motel in a seedy neighborhood to get wired up on the off chance he could end this game with Rosalind and Roosevelt Prep once and for all.
“If you think this thing is going south, just give the code phrase and we’ll get you out of there. You do remember the code phrase?”
Gideon frowned. “Yes. I ask her about a glass of water. She’s sixty-three years old. I think I’ll be fine. It’s not like she’s going to try to murder me over a college scheme. I just need to get her talking. Convince her, somehow, that she can trust me.”
“How do you plan on making that happen exactly?”
“I just have to charm her.”
Simmons arched a brow.
Gideon smirked. “What? Are you implying that I’m not charming?”
“You don’t have any experience doing undercover work. Just take it nice and easy. Don’t do anything to put her in a bad mood.”
“I’ve got this under control. Trust me.”
“I’m serious, Gideon. I’ve been doing this for twenty years. Try not to piss her off.”
Gideon grinned. “Of course.”
Gideon pounded on the door hard enough to rattle it in its frame, not feeling the least bit sorry when an old man across the hall whipped the door open to glare at him. He gave him a jaunty wave, and he gave Gideon the finger. He would have smiled if there wasn’t an anvil in his stomach. Seconds stretched into minutes without any movement on the other side of the door. He raised his hand to knock again when the door was wrenched open.
Rosalind gave a weary sigh, tying the belt of her pale blue velvet robe together as she glowered at him. “I’m assuming you have an excellent reason for pounding on my door at three in the morning.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Rosalind. I thought we were friends who just pop into each other’s homes whenever we please without calling.”
Rosalind rolled her eyes. “Oh, do come in before my neighbors try to have me booted out of the building. I refuse to move at my age.”
“What we
re you thinking?” Gideon asked, ignoring her droll commentary.
She shook her head, collapsing regally onto a baroque period silk sofa and curling her legs beneath her. “I was thinking that I would give your little tart one last chance to do the right thing. He’s using you, and even if you can’t see that, I owed it to my dearest friend to at least attempt to protect the only man he ever loved.”
Gideon scoffed, settling into the uncomfortable straight backed chair to her left. “Enough games, Rosalind. I know what’s going on at the school. I know everything, and I have the records to prove it. Did you think that your threats would scare me off?”
There was the barest hint of a frown, but then it disappeared. It was enough to give Gideon hope, though. A crack in her veneer. He just needed to keep chipping away.
“You don’t know anything, Gideon. I’m trying to protect you. Just let this go.”
“I know you and the board are part of a scheme where you help children cheat their way into schools they don’t deserve and use scholarships they didn’t earn.”
“Let it go, Gideon. This is much bigger than just Roosevelt.”
“I know. I did a bit of digging on Douglas Shea when he falsified evidence to get Cal’s acceptance rescinded. It seems Mr. Shea makes quite a bit of money for doing very little. It also seems that Roosevelt pays a lot of money to Tri-State college prep. Far more money than we bring in through tuition. Almost like parents might be funneling their money to Tri-State via Roosevelt to hide their bribes. That seems like something the IRS might want to look into.”
She examined her nails. “You’re truly not going to let this go, are you?”
“Why not just ask me to be a part of it?”
“How do you mean?” she asked, frowning.
“With this whole scheme. I’m a tenured professor with a highly sought after private college. Why not invite me into the fold? I could have helped you.”
She shook her head as if dismissing the notion, finally looking at him. “Grant said you couldn’t ever know.”