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CHAPTER1
Dorian had lost track of which press junket this was; the host was the usual false jerk who wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire if he didn’t happen to be a movie star. It was one of the bigger entertainment shows, the third of six he had scheduled today—notGood Morning America, as that had been yesterday. There were only so many times he could roll out the same spiel and still sound sincere.
He hadn’t been sleeping well, the plan he’d been forming was now invading his dreams and he needed to act on it before he went mad. Every passing day began to feel wasted and he couldn’t do it any longer. It seemed so long since Robin had walked out of his life and he knew he owed it to himself to stop hiding. Dorian knew he was ready, he just needed to take the first step.
Gail Andrews, his glamorous co-star, batted her eyelashes as she tried to play-up any sexual chemistry between them. As beautiful as she was, Gail was never going to float his boat.
He couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t continue to pretend he was something he wasn’t.
“So, Dorian,” began the obnoxiously perky TV host, “a little bird told me there maybe love in the air between you and Gail.”
Dorian knew he was going to get in so much shit for this but it had been coming for months. He’d told Zak he wouldn’t hold off for much longer while his manager had given him every excuse to stay hidden, and Dorian wasn’t buying it. How he’d got through the last lot of filming he’d never know. All he could think about was that he wanted someone to come home to, someone he could take out for dinner, and fuck what the rest of the world thought. A proper boyfriend, not a quick anonymous shag, or someone behind closed doors, he wanted a decent bloke who would be as happy with a fish finger sandwich as a Michelin-starred meal. The whole being out and proud thing had been a bit of a sticking point. Or it had been for him… but not any longer.
“Afraid not, Phil.” He winked at Gail. “Maybe if she were a Gary there’d be more chance for real-life romance.”
Phil’s eyes widened. “Sorry? I must have misheard you. Dorian, are you saying that you prefer men?”
“Yeah, I’ve never really been one for the ladies.”
“But… but… you’ve been linked to some of the biggest names in Hollywood, you were engaged to Skye Jerry.”
Dorian could see the realisation on Phil’s face that he had the scoop of the century. “She was a good friend doing me a favour.”
“This interview is over.” Zak stormed forwards, his expression like thunder. “Dorian, time to go.”
He’d warned his manager multiple times over the last year that he wanted to come out. Before then they’d had several heated exchanges back when Robin was still in the picture and getting restless. Dorian had told Zak he wasn’t going to wait much longer, and when he’d woken this morning, he’d been filled with a growing determination that today was the day. Robin had told him enough times he only had himself to blame for living a lie. His ex had dealt him some serious tough love, to the point of being a prick in some of the conversations they’d shared since they’d split, but the fucking bastard was right.
“Yeah, it is.” Dorian stood. “But I’m going nowhere with you.”
Dorian smiled apologetically at Gail, who didn’t deserve to get caught in the crossfire, and pulled at his microphone, not caring if he damaged it. He stormed off the sound stage in the opposite direction to where his security were waiting, disappearing into a corridor, spotting a fire escape and hurtling through it. He’d been in plenty of action movies to know how to avoid anyone trying to follow him, he ignored the calls for him to come back and sprinted away.
Dorian squinted as he emerged into the bright daylight and dropped his pace to a brisk walk, not wanting to be seen running. The back streets were a warren of alleys and he kept going until he couldn’t hear anyone calling his name. Heading for the main road, he ignored the buzzing phone in his pocket. Dorian had no intention of answering. He fished it out and turned it off, suspecting that one of his handlers would figure out how to use its find-my-phone function to locate him sooner or later.
He ducked into the first coffee shop he came to, and into the bathroom to remove the makeup he’d had on for the interview. LA was full of stars, he needed to pass as a normal bloke, which was easy enough once he’d removed the slap and messed up his hair. The barista gave him a strange look when he reappeared, not uncommon when people thought they knew him but couldn’t place him. He bought a coffee and muffin, leaving a ten-dollar tip.
Once outside, he gave the coffee and muffin to a homeless guy and then spotted a Target. First up was a pre-paid sim card, and then a hotel where he could lie low. Chateau Marmont was his first thought, but then it would probably be every fucker in his entourage’s thought too, although they were discreet when money was no object. Money had never been the issue, he could disappear and never be seen again and he wouldn’t run out of cash.
An hour later, he was shown into a suite in one of LA’s most exclusive hotels and he stared around wondering what to do next. He couldn’t stay here for too long, maybe a few days, perhaps a week, but he’d need a better long-term option. He turned on his phone, and was subjected to dozens of notifications. He ignored them all and disabled the tracking function and put in the new sim card. First, he’d need to speak to Jenny, his PA, and get her to send a few things while he holed up here. Then he’d call a few people he trusted and decide what to do. He thought he had a plan of sorts, but he’d not fleshed anything out beyond announcing he was gay. Zak and Marisa would be having kittens.
He called Jenny.
“Hello?”
He was half surprised she’d answered as she wouldn’t have recognised the number. “It’s me. Don’t say it. Are you on your own?”
“Hey, Steve, how’s Mom doing? Hang on, let me move somewhere away from the gang. I’m sure they don’t want to hear about oozing abscesses.”
He’d hired her because she was smart and ruthlessly organised, and was nothing like Robin in appearance. He waited, assuming she was moving to somewhere she could talk.
“Hey. Are you all right?”
“I need you to get me a few things together, clothes, toiletries… usual stuff for a couple of weeks. My travel documents, and the emergency grab folder.”
“Right. Give me a few hours, I need to ditch the gruesome twosome.”
“Talk to Mic, set up a decoy or something.” His main driver had got him out of all sorts of tight spots, Mic would know what to do. “Get him to deliver a load of random stuff to somewhere else but you come here to Chateau Marmont. I’m under the name Redbourn.”
“Got it.” She made a humming noise. “Anything else?”
