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~


The boys were still angry when they arrived. They didn’t goggle over the mansion the way they would have otherwise.


“We’re here for you,” Pete said to her. “Because the three of us stick together. We don’t care about hiding from the press.”


His fierceness took her aback, along with the fact that Charlie echoed it.


“Who you sleep with is your business. That stupid model should be sent to Siberia. In her bikini.” Charlie’s arms were crossed. He was glaring somewhat illogically at Trey, who’d joined her to greet the boys in the luxurious front hall. Zane was in the library with the tall dark lawyer, working out the fine points of his statement.


“We’re very sorry,” Trey said to Charlie. “We didn’t take care of your sister like we should have.”


“You didn’t take care of her at all!”


“Charlie,” Rebecca scolded. “That’s not fair. They took . . . they took very good care of me before this happened.”


“They dazzled you with their money. We thought Zane was a nice guy, but he and his buddy here just wanted you for their plaything.”


“They didn’t,” Pete broke in unexpectedly. Charlie gaped at his brother. “They didn’t. I watched that tape and—okay, I totally didn’t need to see my sister doing that—but I could tell they cared about her. Anybody with eyes could. Sure, some people are going to be outraged, but some will just be jealous. Love is love, Charlie. It’s not always tidy.”


Rebecca didn’t know whether she or Charlie was more flummoxed. Charlie’s mouth worked a moment before he glowered at Trey again. “You love her?”


“I do,” Trey said, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips.


“And Zane?”


“I’ve seen indications he feels the same.”


Rebecca’s heart beat faster for each statement. She turned wide eyes to Trey, who smiled angelically at her. She wanted to say she loved him too, but her mouth felt stuck. God, was she as bad at this as Zane?


If she was, Trey let her off the hook as easily as he did his friend.


“Why don’t you boys pick a guest room or two?” he suggested. “Then, since I doubt any of us will sleep, maybe we can convince Rebecca to whip up a snack.”


In spite of everything, she inhaled in involuntary excitement at the thought of having free rein in that big kitchen.


Charlie didn’t miss the sound—or what it signified.


“Okay,” he said grudgingly to Trey. “Maybe you do know our sister better than you would a plaything.”


~


Evan really came through for Zane. Though it was the middle of the night, he’d driven right over . . . with his own camera equipment. He said he often taped clients to prep testimony, to coach them on how to present themselves as honest and forthright.


“Some people sound like they’re lying even when they’re not,” he explained.


Zane guessed that wasn’t his problem. Once they’d hammered out what he’d say and practiced a few times, Evan only filmed him twice before he was satisfied.


“You don’t want to be too polished,” his old friend said. “Then you’d come off as fake.”


“Why do I feel like crap?” he asked as Evan packed up his equipment. “I’m facing my demons, spilling my guts to the world. That’s supposed to make me feel better.”


“Oh, I don’t know.” Evan smiled faintly. “Maybe because you’re the sort of person who doesn’t like to be pushed into doing things.”


Zane supposed that was it. He rubbed his temple, hips propped on the desk where he’d been filmed. Evan had decided the library would make a respectable backdrop. “When will you send this out?”


“As soon as I get home. Best not to let other people control the spin on this.”


“We won’t be able to control it either.”


“No, but at least you’ll look like you’re standing up to it. I’m guessing the networks will start airing your response early tomorrow.” Evan clapped his hand on Zane’s shoulder. “You were fine. Calm. Straightforward. You’re not Paris Hilton, so I expect you’ll be excruciatingly uncomfortable for a while, but then you’ll get over it.”


“All this doesn’t shock you?” Zane couldn’t help asking.


Evan shut his black carrying case with a snap. “I’m a lawyer. It takes more than this to make me blush.” He started to go and then stopped. “It might not feel like it right now, but you’re lucky. To be loved that much by two people, whoever the hell they are, isn’t a privilege everyone can claim.”


“Send me your bill,” Zane reminded as he turned to go again.


“A huge one,” Evan laughingly promised.


The rest of the night was a weird cross between going to the mattresses in a mafia movie and meeting the in-laws. Rebecca wasn’t engaged to him or Trey, but having her brothers around made it feel that way. Once the twins relaxed, something they couldn’t seem to help doing around their sister, the chips fell off their shoulders. They were the same smart funny kids he’d enjoyed interviewing for Bad Boys—decent kids, with their heads and hearts on straight.


Along with Rebecca, they brought an amazing amount of extra life into his and Trey’s house.


Zane woke his corporate head of PR early, giving him a rundown of the situation and telling him to respond to inquiries with No Comment. He hadn’t bothered going to his private office to make the call. The five of them—him, Trey, Rebecca and her brothers—were hunkered in the library in front of the wall of screens. News of the sex tape, including portions edited and blurred to pass FCC standards, filtered onto the networks for the early morning news cycle. Crumpled and tired from being up all night, no one spoke as the coverage aired. Charlie hid his face in his arm for the explicit bits, a reaction Zane wished he could imitate.


The tape cut off before Trey took Rebecca against the bathroom wall. Either the lens hadn’t covered that angle, or the footage didn’t suit the point Missy hoped to make. Zane’s statement showed up in most cases on the heels of the tape. Seeing his face pop onto the screen was more surreal than usual. He didn’t think he looked calm. To his eyes, he appeared incredibly uptight.


“As some of you will have heard,” he said stiffly to Evan’s camera. “A tape of myself and two people I care about has been posted onto the internet. The tape was made without our knowledge and released without permission. It’s regrettable that we live in a world where people’s expectations of privacy can be violated so recklessly. Human nature being what it is, some of you will watch the footage. To those who don’t, I thank you in advance. While I’ve chosen to keep my bisexuality private until now, my personal preference isn’t something I’m ashamed of. I believe it’s given me a unique perspective on the world, one I hope makes me a fairer businessman and person. The freedom to pursue happiness, each in our own way and irrespective of others’ approval, is important to everyone. Thank you for your time and for letting me have my say.”


In the after commentary, the newscasters—for now at least—were treating him and his statement respectfully. Most felt compelled to add that it was fortunate TBBC was a private company and wouldn’t have to worry about plummeting share prices. Ditto for their brand being edgy to begin with. One waggish female commentator dubbed the incident Showergate. As mockery went, Zane decided he could live with it.


Once he’d watched a fourth station air its version of the story, Zane shut off all the TVs. He felt as tired as if he’d been up for week.


The picking apart would come later: the jokes on the late night talk shows, the conservative groups frothing at the mouth, the debates over whether bisexuality actually existed. Zane had done what he could for now. That had to be enough.


“That was all right,” Pete said judiciously, his words slurred by lack of sleep. “The bit about the pursuit of happiness was sort of patriotic.”


Rebecca got up to kiss her brother’s cheek. She came to Zane’s chair next and curled up in his lap like a cat. She was easy to put his arms around.


“I’m glad I’m someone you care about,” she murmured.


“Me too,” Trey said, sitting on his chair’s other arm.


Surrounded by the people he loved, Zane closed his eyes and let his breath gust out.


~


He let himself enjoy the respite for five minutes. Then he got up to tackle Mrs. P. Trey volunteered to speak to the house manager, but Zane preferred keeping busy right then.


“Stick with Rebecca,” he said. “Make sure the boys have anything they need.”


Standing close, Trey rubbed Zane’s wrist with his thumb. His brows went up when Zane had to fight not to pull away. “Stop thinking about your dad and his macho code. Letting Rebecca see who you are was the right choice. Having that exposed doesn’t mean you’re being punished. It’s just Missy being a nasty cunt.”

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