“It’s a public park,” Javier answered. He wore a smile, but it definitely wasn’t fun or flirty.
“We have a permit,” the photographer said, eyeing Javier warily.
“Glad to hear it,” Javier said with a nod, then focused in on the model again. “I’m glad to see you’re keeping yourself busy, Gordon,” he said.
Again, Desmond had the uneasy feeling that, as friendly as the words sounded, there was something sharper behind them.
“Look, I’m sorry about leaving,” the model, Gordon, said, stepping away from the edge of the lake. He sent a short glance to the photographer, who nodded and turned to consult with his assistant about something. “Rivera Talent wasn’t a good fit for me.”
“Oh, I’m not mad,” Javier said.
Even Desmond could see he was absolutely mad, and he was quickly grasping why.
“I’m still at the beginning of my career,” Gordon said, sending Desmond an uncomfortable look once he realized he and Javier were together. He leaned closer to Javier and said, “I can’t afford to go down with the ship, you know?”
Javier visibly bristled.
A lump formed in Desmond’s stomach. They hadn’t talked about it for ages, but he recalled Javier saying something about his agency struggling. That was the key thing he had wanted to leave behind when they spent weekends together.
“You’re still with him?” Gordon asked, yanking Desmond from his thoughts.
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Des said.
The model looked at him like he was thick. “Gordon Rickets,” he said, resting his weight on one hip. “You don’t remember?”
With a gust of breath, Desmond suddenly remembered. “You’re Matthew’s friend.”
Javier glanced between the two of them, his face redder than it’d been just a few seconds before. “The two of you know each other?” As soon as he asked the question, he connected the dots. “Matthew hired Gordon for the singing telegram,” he groaned, “and I ended up doing the job when you left.” He addressed the last part to Gordon.
“And I’m sorry about that,” Gordon said, looking more nervous by the second. “If I had known you would go through with it instead of just canceling, I would have…I don’t know what I would have done. And you’re still seeing him.”
There was so much more to Gordon’s words than met the eye. As soon as Desmond realized who he was and where he’d met the man before, at a party where he and Matthew had fought and where Matthew had left with Gordon instead of him, a sense of dread gripped Des’s gut.
“I am still seeing him,” Javier said, standing taller and taking a half step toward Desmond. “What’s it to you?”
Gordon glanced between the two of them again. His eyes darted back and forth, like he was weighing up whether he should drop a truth bomb or just let things go. Finally, he sighed, rubbed a hand over his temple, messing up his make-up a little, and said, “Matthew’s not happy the two of you are together at all. He…he might be behind the rumors that are circulating.”
Javier snapped straight so fast Desmond thought his back would break. “Matthew Evers is the one spreading shit about me?”
The niggle of doom Desmond had carried in his gut since waking up exploded into full-blown panic. “What has Matthew done?” he asked.
It was because he’d cut him off and blocked him. There was no possible way that whatever trouble Javier was having was anything else. No wonder the bastard had been so quiet for so long.
“I don’t really know anything about it,” Gordon said, holding up his hands, “but what I do know is that Matthew is out for revenge. He has a lot of contacts in a lot of places.”
That was one half of the situation, Des was sure, but there was so much more.
He looked at Javier for an explanation.
Javier continued to stare at Gordon, but it was clear he wasn’t really seeing him. The wheels in his head were turning, and Desmond didn’t like that stricken look that came with whatever he was thinking. Javier was always so cool and collected. He was strong and graceful. Seeing the carpet pulled out from under him was more of a blow than Desmond was expecting.
Javier had slowly but definitely become his rock over the last few months, and it was disconcerting to see his rock crumble a little.
“Um, I hate to interrupt, but we only have so much time here,” the cameraman said, stepping back over to their group.
“Yes, alright,” Javier answered vaguely, taking a step back.
“I’m sorry,” Gordon said, moving closer to the cameraman, probably so he could be clear of whatever explosion was definitely building in Javier.
