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Marc hesitated for a moment. Then, thank God, he accepted Riley’s wishes. “I had a new client last night, hot Nordic blond type, tall, lean, powerful.”
“Top or bottom?”
“Anything.”
“Mmmm, sounds promising. One-time thing, or a repeat customer?”
“He’s local from what I gathered, so hopefully there will be a repeat.”
“Good for you.” After moving back to Atlanta from California, Marc had resumed working at the high-end escort service where they’d both been employed.
“I’m looking for another job, though.”
“You are?” Riley was surprised. Marc had never been ashamed of what he did, and he was damn good at it and made excellent money.
“Yeah. Don’t worry. I haven’t suddenly gone all moralistic or anything. But I need a change because, last night excepted, most of the time the job’s boring. If it’s boring me, then there’s a good chance I’m boring clients, and that is not okay. I have a reputation to keep up.”
Riley smiled even though Marc couldn’t see him. “No, you wouldn’t dare mess up such an amazing reputation.”
“Don’t mock me. You know I’m damn good.”
“You are.” Riley had first-hand knowledge. He and Marc had been fuck buddies for a while before they realized they were better off as simply friends. Marc was as good as his reputation said.
Marc had been Thorne’s Friday night treat for months before he moved away and Riley took over for him. Riley didn’t like to think too much about that. “What kind of job are you looking for?”
“That’s the problem. I’ve got half an MFA which leaves me qualified for fuck all. And nothing pays as well as Sheila’s service.”
Riley knew that well enough. “You want me to ask Thorne?”
“Nah, I doubt he’d know of anything lowly enough for me since I couldn’t stand working in a stuffy office, assisting some prick who thought I was nothing but a coffee boy. If I’m going to be some exec’s whore, I’d rather do it the honest way.”
Riley couldn’t disagree. Thorne valued his assistant like she was a goddess, but not all businessmen or women did.
“Let me see if he knows about anything that isn’t office work, maybe through his work with the art museum.”
“All right, but no rush, I’m fine where I am for now. I’m just hoping something turns up. Or maybe I’ll find a sugar daddy.”
Did he really have to make that jab? “Marc, that—”
Marc sucked in a breath like he realized what he’d said. “Fuck. I didn’t mean… I just wasn’t thinking about what I said. I know that you’re not taking Thorne’s money. You flat refused to let him pay your way, not that I would care if you did, but honestly that wasn’t about you.”
“Would you really be okay doing that?”
“Living off a rich man, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“I think I would. If some rich guy wants to keep me in style and all I have to do is warm his bed and let delivery men into his apartment or run an occasional errand, then fuck yes. I might even be able to actually do some designing. Then I could think of him as my patron.”
Marc loved fashion and had wanted to be a designer since he was in his teens. “Thorne wants to be my patron. He’s offered to give me—or loan me indefinitely interest free—the money for me and Susan to start our own bakery.”
“But you’re not going to let him.”
“I can’t.”
“Are you sure?” Marc sound slightly disgusted with Riley. “You’d take it from someone else; why not Thorne?”
“I’d take it from a bank but not someone else.”
“What about a relative of Susan’s?”
“She doesn’t have any rich relatives.”
Marc sighed. “What if she did?”
Marc wasn’t going to let him get away with anything. “Fine. Maybe. It would depend on the circumstances and how many strings were attached.”
“Then why not take it from Thorne? Are strings attached?”
“He says no, but I would feel like we were back where we started with me fucking him for money.”
“Riley, he loves you. He’s not asking you to pay him back with sex.”
“I know. I didn’t say he would, but that I would feel like it. And him loving me is part of the problem.”
“How the hell is having a man like that love you a problem?”
Riley heard the bitterness in Marc’s voice. He was actually far more romantic than Riley had ever been. “It’s only a problem for this kind of thing. Could you really let a man keep you if you loved him, really loved him?”
“I…” Marc paused for several seconds. “I don’t know. It’s easy to say yes, but I don’t know that I’ve ever really been in love. Infatuated, yeah. But in love? Maybe not.”
Riley hated the sadness in Marc’s voice. “I’m sorry. I sound like such a shit.”
“No, you don’t. I get it, but I still think a business loan is a whole lot different than being a kept man.”
