Page 6 of The Mission

They shuffled forward.

Hope there’s plenty of snow? Do you board or ski? Are you gay?

Conrad’s group were noisy, discussing some ad Ernesto was doing for Armani, and the film he was going to be in, and who was starring in the film, and Conrad winced. Mark at his arrogant worst.

“Are you with them?”

“Trying to pretend I’m not,” Conrad muttered.

The guy chuckled. “I assume you’re going skiing?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yep. Which resort?”

“Kitzbühel.”

“Me too.”

Conrad smiled. First genuine smile for quite a while. Mark had suggested Verbier but when it came time to book, he’d changed it to Kitzbühel. No one minded because no one ever disagreed with Mark. He’d conned them all into believing that he knew best.

Maybe Conrad would bump into this guy on the slopes. Though even as he thought it, he knew the chances of spotting anyone he knew in such a huge ski area were zero, especially when almost everyone would be wearing goggles and helmets. He could have been skiing next to Chris Salvatore and he wouldn’t have known. Unless he’d broken out into song. Maybe not even then.

“Conrad! Get a move on and we can all sit together,” David called, suddenly acknowledging Conrad was part of the group.

You are the last person I’d want to sit with. You arrogant, whiny arsehole.David worked in HR and was one of the least empathetic people Conrad had ever met, apart from Mark. Conrad remembered emailing David to say he was too sick to come into work, but he was well enough to work from home and David had emailed back three pages of information that still left Conrad unsure whether he should be working or not. Nowhere had it said—Get better soon.

Conrad was sort of hoping the guy behind him might end up sitting next to him. Hope quickly morphed intomaybe we can ski together, and après-ski together, then do all sorts of other stuff together, including live happily ever after together. Hilarious.Because even after everything that had happened, Conrad remained a self-deluded idiot. But not into Mark.Thank God for that.

“Nice to meet you, Conrad. I’m Arlo.” He held out his hand and Conrad shook it.

He wished there was some secret handshake—like the Masons were supposed to have—that told you whether or not someone was gay and if they were interested. That would make life so much easier. To Conrad’s shame, he had a virtually non-existent gaydar. Probably because he’d once made an assumption, been spectacularly wrong and felt so mortified after word had spread around the school, that he’d sworn he’d never assume again. Though he had been fourteen at the time. Was that any excuse? School had been hell after that. He was teased so badly. And he still wasn’t sure he’d been wrong about Gareth Jones.

There was no electrical charge from Arlo’s fingers to his—damn those deceitful romance novels—though Conrad didn’t want to let his hand go. Maybe therewassome magnetism, though he did manage to release Arlo’s fingers before anything was said.

“You don’t want to sit with your friends?” Arlo asked.

Oh look.They’d moved en masse to a check-in desk and Conrad hadn’t followed.Well done, legs!

“Bad enough that I have to spend a week in the same chalet,” Conrad said.Do not open your mouth and let the whole sordid mess flood out.“I’d have cancelled if I could, but it meant losing too much money.”Not another fucking word. Say something happy!“Maybe I’ll get lucky and meet someone to ski with.”

Conrad could feel his face heating and turned away. Luckily, another check-in came free so he shot Arlo a smile—a genuine one—and rolled his case over.

Get lucky? Ha!Knowing Conrad’s luck, he’d end up sitting behind Big Arsehole and Little Arsehole. Difficult enough that Conrad saw Mark several times a week, though he didn’t speak to him unless he couldn’t help it. Conrad liked his job and didn’t see why he should leave it, though he’d been tempted. Clean slate, fresh start. That he was still working there maybe meant therewasa bit of masochist in him.

Conrad took the seat he was given, said a mental ‘see you later’ to his case and headed for security, remembering too late that he’d meant to ask to sit by a window. Still, it would be dark when they arrived so not much to see below.

No one had waited for him. He’d walked past Arlo who was laughing with the guy behind the desk and Conrad felt a pang of lust. He used to laugh like that.And I will again!

He knew the others planned to get several drinks in before the flight and Conrad didn’t want to get drunk, so he sat reading his Jussi Adler-Olsen thriller in the departure lounge until the gate number was displayed. When it was, he made his way there, and dropped down at the back of the seating area. He wasn’t doing a good job of looking as though he wasn’t bothered by what had happened. But then, why should he? He could just do his own thing and ignore them. Everyone would be happier then.

There was no sign of any of the group which was a little worrying, but Conrad definitely had the right gate. The seats began to fill up in front of him and Conrad concentrated on his book.

“Where did you disappear to?” David gave him a nudge as he sat down next to him, managing to press his knee against Conrad’s at the same time. Not accidentally.

Conrad wasnotinterested in David, but the guy was either thick as a brick or deluded. Probably both.Hello kettle!“Had some calls to make.”

“All work and no play makes Conrad a dull boy,” Mark called.

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