Page 74 of French Martini

I nod, folding my hands in my lap. “It’s sad to see it, you know? I wonder now if people pitied me the way I pity Gerard. Did they see me and wonder if I was clueless or just lacked a backbone? Maybe they thought I was chasing prestige and didn’t care. It’s sad,” I repeat.

“It is, but it’s not your reality anymore.”

“Oh, I know.” Reaching up, I scratch the back of Oakley’s neck, smiling as he leans into my touch. “I taunted him though. Made him think I might tell Gerard or the press.”

Oakley grins. “Devious. Would you do it?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to be responsible for breaking someone’s heart.”

“That’s fair.” He lifts my other hand and brushes his lips over the back. “What is it about him? I think his personality is abrasive at best, and he’s okay looking in an artificial way. How did he get you?”

“First of all, it was a long time ago. He didn’t look like that. He still had a boyish charm when I met him. Also, he’s brilliant. His design instinct is impeccable. He’s very romantic too when he wants to be. He targeted me because I was his primary competition. He couldn’t beat me, so he broke me instead. Ours was a whirlwind romance, but once he said ‘I do’ it was like a switch flipped. Then instead of seducing me with flowers and fancy dinners, he used our profession, and it worked. We were the most sought-after design team in Europe for almost a decade. We had a wait list years long. We were at the top of our industry, and by the time I realized what he really is, my life was so entwined with his I didn’t know how to get out.”

“How did you?”

Memories of that horrible night rush back. “I was down with a terrible cold and resting at home, so I had to miss out on an engagement. He thought it was an excellent opportunity to hook up with the son of the host. He was caught getting blown by this kid in a bathroom, and the kid’s dad lost his shit and attacked him. The kid told Alain he was eighteen—still disgusting—but he was a mature lookingsixteen-year-old. He also told his dad that Alain pressured him. No idea if that’s accurate or not.”

“Fuck, Low.”

I nod. “My phone was blowing up all night with people who were there telling me what happened. I got my sick ass out of bed, packed a bag, called a taxi, and went to a hotel where I stayed for a month while it all played out very publicly. I obviously couldn’t look the other way anymore.”

Oakley glares, shaking his head. “What a dick move.”

“He does like them young, and it backfired on him. He dealt with the fallout by paying people off and spinning it to look less than it was. While he did that, I hired the best divorce attorney in Paris. We had a prenup, but…” I pause, planting a smile on my face as two people stop to greet me. Once they’re gone, I continue, leaning in close so others can’t overhear. “In his humiliation, he wanted to take me down with him. He said he had no choice but to seek comfort with others because I was a cold fish, incapable of desire. He more than insinuated that ours was a relationship of opportunity and not love.” I chuckle darkly. “Funny that I actually thought he loved me.”

“I’m sure he did at some point. He just didn’t know how. For weak people with dark souls, holding light in your hands is hard. It’s like catching a falling star. Only the brave know to hold on with both hands.”

I turn and search his eyes. “What are you saying, Oakley?”

“You’re the light, kitten, and I’m the brave one. If you think for one second that when these events end I’m just gonna?—”

The overhead lights suddenly dim and the room fills with music and strobe lights, streaming across our faces.

Oakley lifts my hand to kiss it, and whispers, “We’ll finish this later.”

I nod, ignoring the flutter in my stomach, thankful for the distraction from processing my feelings.

None of this with Oakley was supposed to be real, but nothing in my life has ever felt more solid than his presence next to me. My friends always gave me an anchor when I needed it, and I know they’ll forever have my back, but for the first time in years, I’m wondering what it would be like to add a second port in the storm.

If Oakley is brave enough, maybe I could be too.

TWENTY-TWO

OAKLEY

I’m aboutto crawl out of my skin. Between this uncomfortable tuxedo and what I learned about how Alain treated Lowen, I’m squirming, but I do my best to sit still.

I’ve told myself I wouldn’t push Low or tell him I how I feel about him too soon, but fuck, I just want to pull him into my arms and confess that I want this to last. I want to be the guy who proves to him what love really is.

My attention shifts when there’s movement to Lowen’s left. I’m surprised to see Alain’s man sit in the empty seat and lean in to whisper something to Lowen, who for his part, smiles graciously. From all the rehearsals we’ve done, I think the show is about to start, but Gerard sits tight.

Now it’s my turn to lean in and whisper. “What’s going on with that?”

With a fake smile on his face, Lowen murmurs, “I’ll tell you later.”

I nod, holding his hand in mine. The curtains open and a woman dressed in a gorgeous red silk gown walks out, assisted by none other than Alain Durand. The crowd claps, as does Lowen, but I can feel the tension spreading through him. I know his body language pretty well by now.

We sit through a presentation on the new offices the magazine will inhabit soon and then a brief history of the awards and why they’re being held in New Onyx this year. When they announce that they will return to Paris after this event and going forward, all the tension drains from Lowen’s face.

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