Page 47 of Painted

“And I’m just George,” George added, greeting Early similarly.

“George here tells us that your family had an amazing victory over Willoughby Entertainment,” one of the gentlemen at the table said. “A real David and Goliath moment.”

“It was hair-raising,” Rhys said as he guided Early into a seat, then pushed it in for them.

Early was so overwhelmed by the majesty of the room, the ease of the conversation, and the feeling that they had somehow found themself in the perfect place for them that they could barely catch their breath, let alone participate in the conversation around the table. They ordered from a gilt menu when a server came around, then sipped amazingly good wine, though not too much, since the last thing they wanted was to be tipsy for the magical night, and just watched as the evening unfolded.

It wasn’t very date-like to sit at a table with a bunch of older gentlemen, discussing corporate greed and the triumph of the little man, though the Hawthorne family were hardly little men in Early’s eyes, but it was also somehow perfect. For maybe the first time in their entire life, Early felt like they were somewhere they actually belonged, somewhere that it didn’t matter which pronouns they used or how they dressed or grew their hair. They were simply accepted, just as they were.

“Care to dance?” Rhys asked after dessert was served, as the orchestra switched from playing classical music to tunes of the mid-twentieth century that had been composed specifically for people to dance to.

“I don’t really know how,” Early admitted sheepishly.

“Go on,” George elbowed them. “It appears as though you have an eager teacher.” He winked at Rhys.

Early blushed so hard they thought they must look like one of the beets that had been in the amazing salad they’d eaten earlier. They let Rhys help them stand, then escort them to the dance floor, which was quickly filling up with couples of every description.

“How are you managing?” Rhys asked as he slipped his arms around Early in a dance hold. “I debated whether to bring you here because the club can be a little overwhelming.”

“I’m glad you did,” Early replied, their hand trembling a little as it rested on Rhys’s broad shoulder. “I mean, it is completely overwhelming, but it’s also sort of perfect.”

Rhys laughed. “That’s The Brotherhood for you.”

Early smiled. It felt so easy to do. It felt easy to be happy and to just let themself enjoy what was right in front of them without worrying what people thought or if they would attack them in some way.

And it didn’t hurt that Rhys was an excellent dancer. When the orchestra switched from playing a slow song to a faster one,he coached Early through a few simple steps of what must have been swing dancing. Early was terrible at it, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not even the couples on the dance floor who were obviously expert dancers—and they were pretty certain they saw at least one cast member from that super popular ballroom dancing competition show blending in with the others—looked at them with anything other than friendly encouragement.

They were just getting the hang of some of the steps and Rhys had just spun them into a tight embrace as one of the songs ended. Instead of jumping right into the next one, Rhys continued to hold them there. His expression shifted slowly from happiness to something troubled.

Early swallowed hard, wondering if they’d just been buttered up so Rhys could bring the ax down on them when they weren’t expecting it.

“Let’s go find someplace quiet so we can talk,” Rhys said, seeming to confirm those suspicions.

The minute or so it took for Rhys to take their hand and lead them away from the other dancers, through the ballroom, and out to the hall was a terrifying contrast to the joy Early had felt so far that night. They were breathing hard, even though they’d stopped dancing, when Rhys led them into what looked like a private parlor with several sets of loveseats around the room. Rhys chose one under a window that looked out into a back garden that was lit up like a holiday and sat with Early there.

“First off, stop looking like that,” Rhys said with a teasing look. “I’m not going to say anything bad or tell you off or break up with you.”

Early caught their breath. Not breaking up with someone implied they were together in the first place.

“Okay,” they said, trying to force themself to stop shaking.

Rhys took both of their hands and held them still. “I’m sorry, Early,” he said, gazing directly at them. “I wanted to say thatagain, with no distractions. I’m sorry that I treated you unfairly. And I mean that in every way possible. I’m sorry that I’ve spent all this time telling myself that we couldn’t be together because of our age difference and experience difference and whatever other excuse I was telling myself. I wasn’t giving you enough credit by putting those blocks up. I think I was just scared of losing something good because I’d just lost one of the best things in my life.”

“Raina,” Early said, understanding a lot more now. Their heart was racing, but in a good way.

“I can’t pretend like I actually know what I’m doing,” Rhys went on with a light laugh. “I’ve never really known what I’m doing, even though it looks that way.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Early admitted. “I definitely didn’t know what I was doing that night I got it in my head to seduce you.”

He was trying to be funny about that night, but Rhys’s face went serious.

“That was a huge mistake.”

The bottom felt like it would fall out of Early’s gut.

“Not being with you,” Rhys rushed to add, which made Early’s insides flutter. Rhys reached out to rest one hand on the side of Early’s face. “I don’t regret sleeping with you, but I do regret how it happened. We should have had a lot more communication before and during.”

Early glanced down, but Rhys’s hand stopped them from lowering their head. “I was an idiot to flaunt myself like that.”

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