Page 11 of Best Man
“There is something called bisexuality,” he says mildly.
“Are you bisexual?” I want to gasp because that was incredibly personal, but he just shrugs, an almost sad expression on his face.
“No, I’m gay.” He pauses and then waves a hand as if dismissing the conversation. When he speaks next his voice is very brisk and businesslike. “The house party will be a few days full of activities for the wedding party at a hotel in the Cotswolds. Then they’ll get married a month later. I’d like you to come with me to both events.”
“Do you really want to do this?” I ask softly. “That’s a hard thing to do. You were together for five years. Spending that amount of time with him and his new partner won’t be particularly nice.”
He shrugs, looking awkward. “I have to. I’m the best man.” I make a choked sound but he ignores me, still speaking like a model of a businessman. “I meant to do something about it before, but the time passed quicker than I noticed, and now the week is on me and I need to take someone with me.”
“And that’s me?” He nods. “You do know you could find someone—” I snap my fingers. “—just like that?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want any romantic complications. I’m a private person, and this is a lot of time to spend with someone. If I take you, we both know it’s just a business transaction. I’ll pay your usual fee and double it. Would you be interested?”
“But you think I’m incompetent.”
He looks startled. “I do not. Where on earth did you get that ridiculous idea?”
“The amount of times you’ve bollocked me in your office.”
He shakes his head. “You just care about people,” he says. “Too much,” he finishes darkly. “You get involved and want to help and sometimes that goes wrong. I have to tell you off, but it doesn’t mean I don’t understand.”
I stare at him. “This would have made the last three years much more understandable,” I say faintly.
There’s a flush on his cheeks, and he has the appearance of someone who’s being tortured, but he looks at me determinedly. “So, would you be interested?” He smiles slightly. “I promise not to tell you off while we’re away.”
I stare at him, thinking hard. All that time to spend with him. To be in close confines with someone I have to admit I’m attracted to and who plainly doesn’t fancy me back wouldn’t be most people’s idea of a good time. Then I shrug. I’ve always been contrary.
“I’ll do it,” I say softly and his shoulders slump slightly in relief. I hold up my hand. “But I don’t want paying.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he immediately and predictably starts, and I shush him.
I take a second to enjoy him obeying me, albeit with a dark look, and carry on talking. “I don’t want paying. I’ll do this for you on one condition.”
“What?” He sounds wary.
I smile. “You have to call me Jesse.”
He groans. “Okay,” he finally says. “It goes against the grain, but I’ll do it.” I open my mouth but he holds up a hand. “A phrase made famous by Shakespeare, meaning if you planed the wood in the wrong direction, you’d rough it up,” he says, well used to our conversational detours by now. He pauses. “Why would you not want to get paid?”
“Because I respect you and I quite like you. As a boss,” I say quickly as alarm floods his face. “I will not accept payment,” I say firmly. I don’t know where this is coming from because I always need the money, especially with my student loan running thin now, but somehow it feels right, so I carry on. “If you try to pay me, I will leave you in the Cotswolds with the wedding party from hell.”
He looks like he wants to argue, so I give him a cross look and he subsides.
“I’m not comfortable with this,” he mutters.
“Is it because you’re not in control suddenly?” I say sweetly. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” He glares at me and I grin. “And a fewdays in the Cotswolds is never a hardship,” I say lightly and smile. “Just think what fun we’re going to have.”
He looks faintly sick. “What have I done?” he mutters.
“I’m not sure,” I say comfortingly. “But it’s probably best just to relax and go with the flow.” I laugh. “Last time I said that, I ended up with a night in the cells.”
TWO
ZEB
I hear the door opening behind me as I stare down at the paperwork on my desk.
“Are you not supposed to be halfway to the Cotswolds on a dirty mini-break with the office hunk?”
