Page 115 of The Photograph

“Did you really just say you love me?” He bites his lip, eyes all watery, then gazes around Sweetgreen. “This is going to be my favorite place forever.”

And it makes me laugh, but I flap my hand at him. Distraction is vital or I will soak their lovely wooden tables with a river of tears.

“We haven’t talked about your work problem,” I sniff out.

He grins and squints at his cup of coffee, his smile getting wider and wider, the creases in his cheeks deepening, his eyes shining behind his glasses.

“Somehow it doesn’t seem so important anymore.”

“What are you going to do?”

“No idea, but the first thing I need to do is find a lawyer.”

I nod. “My sister’s a lawyer. Not in employment law but I’m sure she would know someone. We’ve got company lawyers, too. Let’s go back to the office and talk to Jo.”

As we stand, he pulls me into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers into my neck.

“For what?”

“Everything. Helping me come out, being you, wanting this …” His voice cracks.

My hand grips his waist. “You too.” I pull back. “You’re an amazing guy, Alex.”

I snag his hand as we leave, and he wraps his fingers through mine. The sunny day doesn’t seem so incongruous now.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling how incredible it is to walk around holding hands, having not felt I could do it for the longest time,” he says as we stroll up the street toward the office.

And he gives my hand a little squeeze, so I tighten my fingers around his, warmth seeping from the surface of my skin down into my body and my bones.

When we arrive back, there’s no sign of Rodrigo and everything appears calm. But Jo is grinning at me, so I weave through the desks toward her, watching her eyes widen as she spots Alex hovering behind me.

“Is this your friend Alex?” she says.

“Boyfriend,” I say, with a grin as her eyebrows rise. “Alex, meet Jo and James.”

Alex catches my eye, and a small smile twitches his mouth. I pull up a chair for him and scoot mine around to their side of the desk.

“Alex has a bit of a problem.” I take them through the situation with his work. “Do you think our lawyers might be able to help?”

Jo nods. “Definitely, Des. They’ll be all over something like this. They’re the ones Janus uses, so, as you can imagine, they’re Rottweilers. Let me contact them.”

In five minutes, we are on a conference call in the meeting room.

The lawyers want all sorts of information from Alex, and, as he talks to them, I start to understand the extent of the problem. Of course, he doesn’t have anything the lawyers need—it’s all locked up on computers and phones.

“I might have a signed copy of my employment contract,” he says, staring at me and making a face. “But I haven’t got the document I wrote.”

“Can you recall …?” he starts, just as I say:

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“I’ve got it.”

“You’ve got what?”

“The report,” I say, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “You emailed it to me for a read-through, remember?”

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