“Yeah, I’ll come in, alright,” Javier said, marching into the house, then waiting as Desmond shut the door and locked it. When Desmond turned to him, he snapped, “What the hell happened back there?”
Shame and longing warred in Desmond’s already queasy gut. He met Javier’s eyes and his jaw went slack. He wanted to tell the man everything, even the things trapped deep inside his heart, but he had no idea where to start or how to get out any of the things he’d spent so long tamping down inside himself because they weren’t palatable to the likes of Matthew or the people he worked with. He didn’t know what to say.
So he settled for, “Would you like some tea?” as he strode past Javier to the kitchen.
“Yes, I would like some tea,” Javier half-shouted, as if Desmond had offended him. “Of course I would like tea. I would also like you to explain why you didn’t feel the need to come get me before leaving the hotel.”
Desmond’s insides withered before he made it to the kettle. He used the seconds it took him to fill it in the sink and set it to boil to gather himself in an attempt to figure out what the hell he was going to say.
“I didn’t think you would want to be with me after what I did,” he said, forcing himself to turn, lean back against the counter, and, with a huge amount of effort, meet Javier’s eyes.
Javier stared at him like he’d grown another head. “Why would you ever think I wouldn’t want to be with you because you ran out on some dumb award?”
Desmond winced. Not just because of Javier’s angry tone—his not-quite boyfriend had never been angry with him before—but because he was right. He had run out. He’d run away from his problems like a coward and a fool.
“You don’t know what happened,” he said, trying to be as calm and reasonable as possible when he felt anything but. “I didn’t deserve that award. I couldn’t accept it. I shouldn’t have any sort of place in that world or with those people.”
“Because you passed insider trading tips to your competitor who you were having a threesome with along with your rat’s-arse boyfriend?” Javier asked.
Desmond’s eyes went wide. “How do you know about that?” he asked, leaning heavily against the counter in fear that his knees would give out.
“Matthew told me while you were waiting to receive the award,” Javier revealed, crossing his arms. “He bragged about it like it was some sort of coup he’d pulled off.”
“Then you understand why I couldn’t accept the award, why I’m a fraud.”
The kettle clicked off, and Desmond whipped around to make tea and hide.
“I don’t understand at all,” Javier said, shifting toward the counter so he could see Desmond, at least in profile. “I knowthat insider trading is against the law, but that’s about it. I don’t understand how what you did was wrong if it was that Angus guy who did the actual trades.”
“It’s also illegal to pass insider information along willingly,” Desmond said, moving to the refrigerator to fetch the milk and to keep hiding.
“Did you pass it along willingly?” Javier asked. “Or did those twerps wring the information out of you?”
Desmond glanced guiltily at Javier as he set the milk on the counter. Javier was still furious, and it killed him.
“What does it matter?” he said, wilting as he leaned against the counter. “I did something horrifically unethical, something that would likely have ended with me sacked if it had come to light at the time. You have said yourself on numerous occasions that you value ethics above all else. You built your business around creating an ethical environment within the fashion world. I don’t know how you can look me in the eyes knowing that I’m an immoral coward.”
Javier gaped at him. “You think I would dump your arse for something you did over a year ago, before you even met me?”
A whole different kind of sheepishness filled Desmond. He was an utter mess, a complete joke. Of course Javier would be insulted by his reaction to his disgrace.
“Desmond.” Javier grabbed his upper arms and turned him to face him. “I don’t care what you did before we met. I said it before about Angus and I mean it for your business, too. We all make mistakes.”
“I am the antithesis of everything you stand for,” Desmond said, meeting Javier’s eyes, even though it was painful.
“Honey, my agency is dying. All those grand ideals of mine mean nothing. I was all heart and no head, and you as much as anyone know that’s no way to run a business.”
“But at least you tried,” Desmond argued. “And I admire you for that.”
“Will you admire me once I’m nothing but an unemployed ex-model with a failed business under his belt and no idea what to do with his life?” Javier asked. Desmond was about to say yes, but Javier went on with, “Obviously not, since you left me holding the bag at that hotel.”
Guilt and grief smashed whatever hope Desmond was holding onto. He really should have gone back for Javier before leaving. Even if that meant calling him and telling him to meet him behind the bins in back of the hotel. He’d let his fear and issues of inadequacy he’d probably been carrying around since childhood turn him into a coward.
“I’m sorry,” Desmond said, looking down. “I should have considered you. I’m not used to thinking of anyone else when I make decisions about my life.”
“Yeah, well, neither am I,” Javier said, stepping back.
They just stood there for a moment, neither of them looking at the other. Desmond would have felt panicked about the way everything seemed to be falling apart, but he hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t used to situations like the one he was in now. He was exhausted, under too much strain, and not thinking straight. His pride was shattered, but not so much that he could throw himself at Javier’s feet and grovel for forgiveness. He couldn’t do anything at all, which was an entirely new situation to find himself in.
