“Thanks,tía.” Javier managed a smile as Maisy walked to the door.
“Oh, and if it makes you feel any better, Indigo Events just sent us a list of parties coming up that they’ll need talent for,” Maisy said as she paused in the doorway.
Javier wanted to cry. Rivera Talent was supposed to turn into one of the most highly sought after modeling agencies for high-end magazine shoots and runway shows. They were not supposed to be a mediocre talent pool for private parties and catering events.
He sank back into his chair once Maisy was gone and rubbed his hands over his face, leaving them there so he could hide behind them for a moment. What the actual fuck was going on? Things had started out with such promise. He actually had secured contracts with exactly the sort of clients he’d always dreamed of. He’d thought people were on board with his unique mission. In the last two months, the rocky road they’d been traveling had turned into an absolute freefall, and he didn’t have the first clue why.
He did what he always did in the last few weeks when things started to get him down. He pulled out his phone and tapped his way into the file he’d set up in his photo app for pictures of Desmond. Just looking at them loosened something in his shoulders and settled his soul. He had pics of Desmond watering and pruning his beloved plants, pictures of him cooking, selfies of the two of them in bed, and a few borderline NSFW pics that made his insides flutter and blood rush to all the wrong places for the middle of a work day.
Why couldn’t the rest of his life be as perfect and beautiful as his weekends?
With a deep breath, he switched from his photo app to messages and brought up his ongoing conversation with Desmond.
“God, I can’t wait to see you tonight!” he typed, then hit send.
He stretched out his arm to put his phone down and go back to work, but to his surprise, three dots appeared immediately. With a flippy thrill in his gut, he held his phone with both hands, grinning as he waited for Desmond’s reply to come through.
“Me, too. I’m actually leaving work early today, before lunch. Are you free?”
Javier sucked in a breath, flickers of relief and love and lust dancing through him like sparklers.
“Absolutely,” he typed back. “I can get out of here at noon.”
“I’ll be home by then. Come straight over,” Desmond replied.
Smiling, Javier replied with a thumbs up emoji, followed by a kissy face, an eggplant, a peach, and a splash. When Desmond liked his text with a laughing face, he finally felt as though he could concentrate on work.
All too quickly, as he finalized the paperwork for the talent that had just left, his good mood vanished. If that wasn’t bad enough, fifteen minutes later, Maisy knocked on the doorframe of his office.
“Um, you’re not going to like this,” she said.
Javier puffed out a breath and flopped in his seat. “Give it to me.”
“Kevin has just called out, and he was supposed to go to that industrial film job this afternoon.”
Javier squeezed his eyes closed. It was Valentine’s Day all over again. At least this time he wouldn’t need to strap on a pair of cupid wings.
“Alright,” he said wearily, pushing his chair back and standing. “I’ll do the job.”
“I want to say you don’t have to do this and that I could just call Stamford Industries and cancel,” Maisy said, watching as Javier grabbed his coat and satchel and headed out of his office, “but I know we can’t lose this job.”
“You can say that again,” Javier grumped as he put on his coat.
“I can try to find out if anyone else in our roster is free,” she said as he marched for the door.
Javier knew full well they didn’t have enough people left to send on a last-minute job. Just like the bloody singing telegram, it was him or nothing.
“I’ve got this,” he said, sending her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “You can wrap things up here and take a half day if you want to.”
“If I finish up with work,” she said, waving Javier out the door.
If the only thing holding Maisy to the office was work, she’d be home by ten a.m.
It was a sorry state of affairs, but there was nothing Javier could do about it. As the elevator took him down to street level, he pulled out his phone and texted Desmond.
“Change of plans. I have to go to a job in Greenwich for someone who called out. I’ll probably be home late tonight.”
The only thing that made Javier feel even a tiny bit better was the way it felt when he implied Desmond’s house was home.
