Truth & Tenderness (5 page)

“To… produce?”

“Yeah. You’ll have to take a promotion, though.” Bennett laughed, tipping his head back. “God, Griffin—your face.”

“Never play poker with me.”

“Actually, I should—I’d make a fortune.”

The meeting concluded with a strapping fair-haired young intern named Lars bringing Griffin a file box stacked with folders and scripts.

“Not yet converted to digital file. My apologies,” Bennett said as Lars put the box on the leather sofa in the corner.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’d rather read them this way anyway.” Griffin ran his fingers over the box like they held a treasure. Because maybe they did. Maybe he could find another gem in all the noise, something he loved and wanted to bring to the world.

Maybe he could find another piece of his career puzzle.

Bennett dismissed Lars, who did a sauntering runway model thing that Griffin noticed (he was engaged, not dead) and then noticed that Bennett did as well.

A little hum of concern niggled at Griffin’s brain, but before he could speak, the door opened again.

Daisy and Sadie entered wearing matching pink floral dresses and identical bright smiles, and Bennett’s attention became entirely focused on his “most beautiful girls.”

A second later, smothered with hugs and kisses from his best friend and his goddaughter, Griffin’s fleeting concern was lost to the best kind of distraction.

T
HEY
ATE
in a private dining room at the Bryant Park Grill, devouring lobsters and Israeli couscous and a few bottles of wine. Jim smiled at least two genuine smiles—Griffin counted—and everything felt right.

Daisy fed Sadie mashed sweet potatoes and sautéed spinach. The toddler cooperated about 50 percent of the time—the rest she devoted to playing peekaboo with her adoring godfather. Griffin let the “adult” conversation drift away, concentrating on the little girl and her charming grin as he ducked behind his raised linen napkin.

Sadie didn’t tire of the game and neither did Griffin. He’d missed her terribly. She was another on a long list of people he wanted to see more often, and not over FaceTime on his phone between meetings. Once upon a time, he’d lived three thousand miles away from everyone he loved except Daisy—a different Daisy, a brittle and self-absorbed woman who barely resembled the happy sprite with the pixie cut who was wiping down a dirty toddler without blinking.

Now—now he was tired of being away. Tired of Hollywood and living alone. Tired of things that took his attention away from his family.

Sadie was his family. Sadie was a representation of so much.

When Jim slid his hand onto Griffin’s leg and took his hand, Griffin swallowed hard and blinked.

Sadie was a symbol of what he really wanted.

“E
VAN
?”

Up to eyeballs in paper, Evan didn’t even look up when he heard his name. There wasn’t much urgency in the tone, so he let himself finish reading the last paragraph of the report before turning his attention to…

Casper Vaughn.

Evan smiled. This was the right kind of distraction. “Hey.”

Casper walked into the office and shut the door behind him, silencing the mild chatter of the squad room. Evan pushed his work to one side as Casper sat down.

“How goes the dynamic world of Midtown South?” Casper asked, a smirk teasing at his lips.

Evan gestured at the files on his desk. “I have signed my name three hundred times today and it’s not even two in the afternoon. What do you think?”

Casper covered his mouth with his hand, smothering a cough/laugh in an entirely unconvincing way.

“Tomorrow I have two luncheons to attend and a meeting about excessive horn honking in the Garment District. There are talking points. About excessive honking.”

“Riveting.” Casper looked at his watch, then at the sad rumpled bag of popcorn on Evan’s desk. “Is that lunch?”

He frowned. “What? It’s low-sodium.”

“Oh God, that’s so depressing.” Casper reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. “I’m getting us a table at Ai Fiori. Fix your tie, we’re getting actual food.”

A
I
F
IORI
buzzed with late lunchers, including Evan and Casper at a corner table. In Evan’s life, “Italian” generally meant pasta and meat sauce, maybe some garlic bread, but he found nothing even vaguely close to that on the menu. Casper ordered for them—butternut squash soup and then spaghetti with blue crabs. Evan demurred on the wine and had water instead.

Casper ordered the house red.

“We should work out a plan for your meeting with the community board,” Casper said, laying the pale pink napkin across his lap. It seemed like he coordinated with the gray-and-pink interior of the restaurant in his black pinstripe suit, pearl gray shirt, and striped tie.

Evan checked his white shirt and black suit pants for wrinkles as he mimicked the napkin move. “Or you could just go for me,” Evan said, a note of pleading in his voice.

“No. You need to make an appearance, reassure these business owners that you give a shit about their vandalized alleyways and gridlock.”

“Two things that have existed since the island was settled,” Evan grumbled, counting pieces of silverware on the table. “They have one of the lowest crime rates in the city—I feel we should have a little gratitude.”

Casper shook his head as if Evan were slightly stupid. “No one feels gratitude in this city, Evan. It’s a dangerous emotion. You feel lucky, you let down your guard, and bang—someone steals your tires while you’re waiting at a light.”

“That is a terrible analogy. I’m definitely writing my own remarks for the meeting.”

Their soup arrived. Evan poked around the puree while he and Casper made small talk about the precinct and the quiet few months they’d had since Evan took over. Things stayed simple until their entrées arrived and Evan paused the conversation to answer a text from Matt.

“He’s in Baltimore until tomorrow,” Evan said as he put his phone facedown on the table. “Business trip. I swear, I see him as much as the TSA at LaGuardia.” The words were light, but Evan didn’t mask the reality—he missed Matt, missed coming home to him. The business doing so well meant good things for his boyfriend, but it meant upheaval to their neatly organized schedule of the past few years.

Sometimes Evan let the thought creep into his mind.
It was better when he was home all the time.

Casper seemed overwhelmingly involved with his plate for a moment, then looked up, serious in a way Evan wasn’t used to seeing him.

Evan sat back a little in his chair, surprised. “What?”

“Just—nothing.” Casper dug into his meal, carefully navigating the messy food and his immaculate suit.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Evan didn’t pick up his fork; he just watched Casper until the other man put his own down.

“I’m sorry. It just struck me as something I might have said about me and Tony.”

“That’s….” Evan started to say something, then couldn’t decide how to finish the statement.
I’m sorry? That’s a shame? Have you heard from him?

Are you implying something?

Casper took advantage of Evan’s silence, kicking back a large portion of his ruby red wine before pinning Evan to his seat with a sharp stare. “I didn’t notice, you know? You have busy lives, you have careers that demand your attention on weekends. You travel because it’s expected of you, and without kids at home, they’re not going to ask, ‘Hey, do you need to stay home this weekend because your relationship is falling apart?’”

Evan nodded, a tiny spark of relief in his chest. They had kids, he thought. Matt was utterly devoted to….

“And we swore to each other that wouldn’t be us. We actually sat down and worked out a schedule, a plan for our lives, and we swore it wouldn’t end like this.”

Casper’s voice cracked a little at the end, and Evan leaned forward, suddenly at a loss for what to do. Touch his hand? Offer a kind word?

“Casper, I’m so sorry,” Evan murmured. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. Maybe—maybe you guys just need a little time to….”

“He’s got a new boyfriend,” Casper blurted. A few diners looked in their direction, something Casper clearly noticed.

Evan tried not to blush. “Oh, I’m….”

“Sorry. I know.” Casper wiped at his eyes, turned away from the rest of the dining room. “Everyone’s sorry.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else,” Evan said awkwardly, cringing inside. What if someone had said that to him when he and Matt had broken up?
No use crying over a lost love! Here, have a new one!
He knew, maybe more than anyone, it wasn’t that easy, even if you accepted you had more than one love of your life.

“I don’t think I want to go through that again.” Casper laughed, bitter and damp. He reached for his wine and finished the glass, already signaling the waiter as he swallowed it down.

E
VAN
AND
Casper parted on the street, work forgotten as Evan encouraged Casper to go home early, get some rest. Their meal had been punctuated by Casper’s quiet rants about his and Tony’s careers tearing them apart, the lack of sex and intimacy, then the lack of conversation, until they were barely roommates. Oh, and wine. Casper drank a fair amount of wine.

Evan paid the bill with his American Express, cringing at the total. Then he put Casper in a cab.

Walking back to the precinct, Evan made a very conscious decision as he dodged the crowds of tourists.

The phone rang for long seconds; Evan knew Matt was probably in a meeting, probably had his phone on silent. So he wasn’t surprised when his boyfriend didn’t pick up.

At the tone, Evan ducked to one side against a building to block out the noise.

“Hi, it’s me. I hope your meeting is going well. And your hotel is comfortable. And the plane takes off on time tomorrow, because I miss you.” Evan cleared his throat, imagining Matt getting this message as he lay on the bed, tie askew and shirt unbuttoned. “In fact, call me tonight, okay? After ten?” He threw a bit of seduction—at least he hoped that was what it was—in his tone. “And make sure Jim’s in his own room by then.” He hung up, running a hand over his hair as he stuck the phone in his pocket.

He and Matt—they were going to make sure they were all right.

E
VAN
’
S
PHONE
buzzed an hour later as he sat at his desk, reviewing loitering complaints from a building a few blocks away.

What the hell was that? Did you invite me to call for phone sex!?

Maybe.

Oh hell yes. Ten o’clock. Make sure you’re naked.

I said yes to the phone thing, not the sexting thing.

You should get out that box Griff sent you for your promotion.

STOP.

The big blue one is about my size.

You. Wish.

Maybe YOU wish.

I have a meeting now.

What are you wearing?

Evan?

Baby?

A
T
HALF
past midnight, Jim trekked from his garage office back into the house. Four hours ago he’d sworn to Griffin he just needed to settle a few files and then he’d be back. They’d watch a movie, go to bed early. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

It really was work at first.

Jim redid the camera layout for a new client’s summer home. He fixed a stubborn issue with an obstructed doorway at another’s office. Feeling frisky, Jim even completed the invoicing for another month.

Haight Security Unlimited kept increasing their monthly earnings at a steady clip.

And he swore—to himself—that it would be five minutes, maybe ten. Just to check his alerts for Tripp Ingersoll.