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Mitch shakes his head, laughing sarcastically. “One mistake? You ditched me at the club last night. Have you forgotten that already?”
My mouth opens to say something then I snap it shut. God, I want to scream and rant and slap that stupid smug look off of his face. But he’s right. I did disregard his advice.
The reality of my behavior settles over me and the fight bleeds out. I pick up the chair and sink back down. “You’re right.” I catch his surprised look and laugh to myself. “What? I can admit when I’m wrong.”
Mitch Hale, stunned into silence. That’s a first.
“So, what do we do now?” I question.
“You?
?ll do whatever I say?” he asks. There’s that damn twitch in his eye again.
I nod. “As long as it’s necessary, yes.” Mitch picks up his coffee and limps over to take the seat across from me. I hold up a finger. “And as long as you keep me informed.”
“I have no problem with telling you what’s going on. You’re not a delicate flower that needs to be lied to,” Mitch states.
I choke on my breakfast. Mitch watches in amusement as I struggle to swallow. Once I’m able to breathe, I poke fun. “I thought I was a spoiled brat?”
He gives me a sexy, lopsided grin and my stomach does a backflip. “You are a spoiled brat. That doesn’t mean you’re not tough.”
“Oh, so now I’m tough?” I joke. “Your opinions of me are giving me whiplash.”
Mitch chuckles. “Maybe your behavior gives me whiplash.”
I point at his knee. “With the injured knee, you really are Johnny Utah.”
“I have no idea what that means.” He scowls, but I can tell it’s fake. We laugh together for a minute. I think I see a flicker of fondness in his eyes before it disappears. Mitch’s face suddenly becomes serious.
“This guy isn’t an amateur, Gavin. He’s dangerous and he seems to know what he’s doing.”
I put down my spoon and push the half-eaten food away. “Will you tell me what you’ve found so far?” My hands have nothing to do and my lucky stone is upstairs. I have to rub my fingers together to keep them occupied.
Mitch nods. “Keep in mind this is a very basic profile. I’m still going through the evidence. The original notes and gifts weren’t kept. That means I have to interview everyone involved to gather the threats and exact wordings, or as close as can be remembered.”
“Yeah. We didn’t think it was a big deal. Ross said they didn’t want to worry me so they didn’t even tell me about the threats until I discovered one myself. It freaked me out.”
“The one at the recording studio, right?” Mitch clarifies.
“Yeah.”
“This guy, he’s…inconsistent,” Mitch explains. “Sometimes, like yesterday, he’s very basic. A note telling you to stop being a—” Mitch clears his throat. The tips of his ears turn bright pink.
“You can say it. I’ve heard worse. And I’ve seen some of the notes.”
“Alright. He threatens you for being gay. Which, considering very few people know this,” his gaze meets mine and I shrug. “Since we’re assuming very few people know this, it’s disturbing just from that basic fact. It points to an ex-lover, most likely.”
“Except I’ve never had a boyfriend,” I admit. “The studio… forget it.” I wave him off, not wanting to discuss the studio giving me constant grief over my public image. “And lots of people suspect I’m gay. There are a ton of articles and discussions about it. All you have to do is Google ‘Gavin Walker gay’.”
Mitch blushes again. My guess is he already looked me up and discovered this.
“Well, that’s the other part. The studio, in particular, doesn’t want you to come out. Am I right?”
I nod.
“Is it possible this guy is taking care of a problem for them?”
An icy tendril grips the back of my neck. “What are you saying, Mitch? That the studio is threatening me in hopes of keeping me in the closet?” The thought is sobering, and one that’s occurred to me before.
