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The phone started buzzing again. This time, he couldn’t ignore it. He pulled it out of his pocket to check the caller ID and…
Ewan? Why would Ewan be calling right now? Didn’t he know Nate was busy?
A shot of cold dread lodged in Channon’s gut, and he pushed himself up from his seat, quietly slipping out of the hall and into the corridor outside. He made apologetic eye contact with the staff at the door and picked up the call.
“Ewan?” he said.
“Channon?” Ewan sounded upset. “Why the fuck do you have Nate’s phone?”
“He’s giving his speech right now,” Channon said, walking away from the doors to a large window overlooking an ornamental lawn. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Fuck!” There was a sound like something thumping into something soft, like Ewan had just thrown himself onto a couch. Where was he right now? Nate’s office? That would make sense.
Channon tried to sound calm and confident, the way he figured Jack or Nate would. “What happened? You can tell me.”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. It’s just…just an email.”
“What, like, from the IRS?”
Ewan made an exasperated sound. “Christ, no! From my ex.”
It took a moment for Channon to make sense of this. “Your evil ex?”
“He weren’t evil,” Ewan said miserably.
Channon privately thought that he really was but didn’t say it because Ewan never liked to be told that. “What did he want?”
“Just to catch up,” Ewan said, and Channon could hear the strain in his voice. Whatever the evil ex had actually said, it was hurting Ewan. Channon clenched a fist, his impotence in this moment painfully obvious.
What could he do? Ewan needed Nate, and Nate was going to be on that stage for another forty-five minutes. Channon took a deep breath. “What did he really say?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter,” Ewan said acidly. “God, I don’t…I’m gonna just…”
“Don’t hang up!” Channon gripped the frame of the window, trying to think. “Please don’t hang up.”
“I’m not a fragile fucking flower,” Ewan snarled. He sounded off kilter, falling out of orbit. Angry, miserable, frightened. Channon remembered what Ewan had been like that time he’d bumped into one of the evil ex’s friends, how distressed he’d been then. Channon had had to call Nate for help.
But Nate was on stage, and after his speech he had a panel, and Channon needed to come up with something quick before Ewan hung up on him.
“Okay, just hear me out.” Channon licked his lips. “Can you go see Jack?”
There was a deathly silence on the phone. “What,” Ewan said flatly.
“I’m serious, just…go talk to Jack. You don’t have to tell him what happened, but just tell him…tell him you need to…I don’t know.” Channon took a deep breath. “He’ll help. He always helps me.”
“You’re his fucking sex toy,” Ewan said with so much venom that Channon recoiled. “Of course he helps you.”
Channon took a moment to respond. “I’m gonna give you a second to walk that back,” he said firmly.
Ewan made an anguished sound. “Sorry. You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“I mean, it’s true,” Channon said as casually as he could. “But, like, say it nicely.”
This seemed to break the tension. Ewan laughed, a strangled sound. “Aye.” Channon heard him breathing, shallow and ragged. “I can’t just waltz on up to the top floor and knock on your old man’s door like I’ve got any right. What if he’s busy?”
Channon relaxed. Ewan was coming around, he could feel it. “Just ask Cynthia if you can see him.”
“Who?”
