“You managed to ensnare me to finance the lifestyle you think you’re entitled to, and God knows you have no trouble at all attracting other men. Why don’t you find someone else to bankroll your life?” Desmond didn’t actually wish that nightmare on anyone, but he was more motivated than ever to get rid of Matthew for good.
“You think it’s that easy to find…someone?” Matthew demanded. Desmond was certain he’d almost said something else along the lines of a sugar daddy.
“For you? Yes,” he answered with a nod. “Have some self-respect, man. There is no dignity in constantly hounding an ex who doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.”
He sounded like his great-uncle Roger, which made him wince, but those things needed to be said.
Matthew gulped for breath like he was running out of arguments, then leaned in close to Desmond. “I have to pay the bills somehow,” he said, a fiery sort of desperation in his eyes. “What better way to do it than to dangle two truths and a lie over your head?”
Desmond swallowed hard. “What lie?”
Matthew smirked. “Don’t you want to know about the truths first?” When Desmond only stared at him without replying, he said. “Truth. Insider trading is illegal, and so is passing along tips that enable illegal transactions.”
Desmond took a half step back, but Matthew pursued him.
“Truth. Fucking a senior partner at a competing firm is unethical,” Matthew went on. “Especially when it’s a kinky little threesome.”
Desmond suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Lie,” Matthew persisted. “It’s what you do on a daily basis when you walk into that office and go about your business with the lads in the corner offices as if you’re as pure as the driven snow and have never set a foot wrong in your life.”
“I’ve never lied to anyone,” Desmond said in an effort to stand his ground, though he didn’t know how true that was. “You’re the one who is being sued for embezzlement by Pickering Jones.”
“Yes, and I’d be grateful if you’d make that lawsuit go away, sweetheart,” Matthew said, reaching for Desmond’s face.
Desmond flinched to avoid his touch. “I knew you were unscrupulous, but I didn’t think you were mad,” he said. “And I will not be intimidated. Not anymore.”
Matthew’s smug look faltered. That and the voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Javier encouraging him pushed him forward.
“Grow up, Matthew. People break up all the time. Stop acting like a petulant adolescent. Most everyone else can handle a split without turning into a cartoon villain. Put yourself together and move on with your life. I certainly have.”
It was the only thing he had to say to the snake, so he turned and walked off.
“You can’t do this to me, Des,” Matthew called after him. “You don’t understand what’s at stake. I have bills to pay!”
Desmond ignored him, pulling out his phone to type a message to Javier. No doubt Matthew had landed himself in some sort of dangerous debt situation. The man always had been horrible with money, which was ironic, considering he workedin finance. Desmond hadn’t been lying when he’d said Matthew could find himself another rich lover to pay for everything.
“Desmond!” Matthew shouted behind him.
If Des had been a different man, he would have made a rude gesture over his shoulder without looking back at the bastard. He could imagine Javier doing something like that.
With a smile, he sent the message, “It’s taken care of. Do you want to come over for supper tonight?”
His heart lifted when three dots appeared almost at once, followed by “Of course.”
Hope. It was an emotion Desmond had almost forgotten existed. After five years of being ground down by Matthew, he actually had hope that brighter days were ahead and he might have someone to spend them with.
“Come over around half six,” he typed in reply.
Seconds later, Javier sent him a kissy face emoji.
Not five minutes ago, Desmond had accused Matthew of acting like a teenager, and here he was, glowing like he had his first crush. He laughed at himself as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. As he approached his building, he cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and stepped back into his lofty businessman persona.
That persona didn’t feel half as comfortable or satisfying as it had just one week before.
The restof the day dragged far more than Desmond would have liked. He couldn’t keep his mind on the reports he needed to read over and approve, and his attention span for yet another meeting with Marcus and a few other senior partners was pathetic. His thoughts volleyed back and forth between dread over what Matthew might do next and joy as he inventoried thecontents of his refrigerator in his mind, planning what to make for Javier for supper that evening.
“It’s not that I’m trying to impress the man or court him,” he told the row of succulents on the sill of the window behind his kitchen sink that looked into the sunroom once he was finally home. “I just like him.”
