Page 42 of Boy Issues

His hand shook and he drained the glass. He should’ve told Silver about Charlotte and his father’s demands. It wasn’t that he hadn’t told Silver most of the issues with his family. He’d only left out the specific details of this particular wrench in any long-term relationship they might pursue.

Donovan winced. He knew damn well that nothing was a ‘maybe’ with Silver. Everything was for real. Silver didn’t play games. However, Donovan wasn’t certain he knew how not to play games.

“Dammit,” he whispered, checking his watch again.

He had one more minute before his next check-in with Silver. He’d been given one task, one low key thing to do for his Papi, and he was on the verge of fucking it up. All he had to do was check in with him three times a day when they weren’t together. Silver had explained to him how such a simple thing could bring them closer. They would have consistent verbal connection, Donovan would be adjusting to the dynamic of obedience, and Silver would know that he could trust his boy.

“There you are!” A breathless Charlotte rushed up to him, giving him a quick peck on each cheek. “I am so sorry. I’ve been trying to get caught up on some work all weekend in the office, and a client called just as I was leaving. That few lost minutes was all it took for me to get caught in the Century City traffic, right as the movie crowd was pouring in and out of the theater.” She tittered. “You know how it is.”

Donovan barely latched on to her words, the panic of being late for his call to Silver scrambling his brains. Charlotte regarded him with worry.

“Are you all right, Donovan? You look as if you have a fever. You’re flushed and sweaty.”

“I-I…” He let out a nervous laugh. “You know, now that you mention it, I’m not feeling very well. I hate to do this to you Charlotte, but I think I should head home, take a Tylenol or something and get some rest.”

Charlotte patted his arm, genuine worry marring her brow. “Oh dear, yes. I think that’s for the best. And don’t apologize. You can’t help how you feel.”

Donovan exhaled, his stomach unknotting a fraction. Maybe Silver would forgive him if he explained. He could talk to him all night now that he didn’t have to stay at the event. They’d done that already one night, had stayed on the phone until after three in the morning. The only reason he’d gotten off the line at all was that his Papi had told him he needed his sleep.

Why the fuck aren’t I over there now?

“Thank you, Charlotte. You’re a doll.” He decided he’d better cover all his bases. “But I’d really love to get together soon. Anywhere you want to go. Should I look into tickets for what’s playing at the Shubert?”

She smiled, then sighed, clutching her beaded evening bag in front of her. “Donovan… You really don’t need to do this.”

“Excuse me?”

She glanced around then leaned in closer, bringing her voice to a whisper. “Everyone knows you’re gay.”

“I… But…” He shook his head, wondering if he’d heard her right. “I don’t understand. When you say everyone…?”

Charlotte arched her eyebrows. “Donovan, please. You don’t think you’ve been obvious?”

He bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She patted his arm again. “I’m not trying to insult you. But over the years, it’s felt as if you’ve gone out of your way through your actions to announce that you’re gay, without actually doing it.”

Donovan ran through the files in his mind, trying to figure out what she was getting at. He’d never once brought a man to an event—that was a given. He hadn’t flirted—well, openly flirted… He frowned. Okay, there was the one time when he’d been blowing one of the caterers at the wedding of a family friend, and someone had caught them in the bushes over by the club fountain. But it had been dark…

Then there was the other time when he’d been bent over the desk in the study of the firm’s attorney when he and the family had stayed at his country house in Palm Springs for the weekend. The housekeeper had walked in on him and the attorney’s valet, but Donovan had been certain that the five hundred bucks he’d given her would keep her quiet.

Then there was the time…

“Fuck me…” He rubbed his forehead, the champagne headache coming on with a vengeance.

“It’s not necessary.” Charlotte touched his arm again, but this time, left her hand there. “Look, I can be your beard, if you’d like. All I ask is that I’m allowed to have discreet affairs on the side. But I’ll show up at all the family functions, hold grand dinner parties, and anything else you need me to do. We can even adopt a child, if you’d like. I don’t mind telling everyone I can’t conceive. I’ll come up with a heartbreaking story guaranteed to make your father a believer.”

She moved closer to him, then looped her arm through his. “All I ask for in return is to be awarded all the same perks I’d be awarded as a true wife.” She laughed. “Without a prenup, of course.”

“This is insane.”

His entire reality had flipped upside down. Here he’d been assuming all these years that he’d been careful, that he’d kept the ruse going. Oh sure, there were bound to be a few people who had their suspicions, but now that he was viewing things through her lens, holy shit. She was right.

Everyone knew.

The club, their family, the friends of their family, the employees of the firm—everyone. Did his father know everyone knew? If he did, then what was the point of this whole charade?

He gazed down at Charlotte, the smile plastered on her face reminiscent of the proverbial cat who’d swallowed the canary.

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