Ogdell was snorting more coke. His face was ruddy and his eyes watery. He beamed at Karlsson, nodding and waving his flute for more champagne.
“You going?” Harris asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, glancing at my watch. “Yeah, it’s late.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
“I insist.”
Meg raised her eyebrows and we slipped away together. The public levels of the club were heaving, hot and far too loud. My pulse thundered in my throat and the sweat stood out on my forehead. It was a relief to get out into the cool night air.
“I’ll call a car,” Meg said, taking a pointed step out of earshot.
“It was nice meeting you, Alec,” Harris said, holding out his hand. His wavy hair was just the perfect amount of disheveled. He’d undone a button on his shirt, revealing a smooth sweep of brown collarbone.
I shook his hand, fighting to loosen my tongue. “You, too.”
“I may be going out on a limb here, but how long are you in town for?”
I took a second to steady my voice. “Until Monday.”
“Uh-huh. So…you wanna meet up tomorrow?”
I rubbed my mouth, staring at the pavement beneath my dress shoes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what they told you about me—”
“Just that you were cute.” His smile tilted up on one side, dimpling his cheek.
“I don’t date.”
“No?” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you do?”
“Car’ll be here in five,” Meg said, rejoining us with a questioning glance “You joining us, Brody?”
“I better get back to the party,” he said, his smile still in place. “But maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” He was holding out a card. I stared at it for a long moment then took it.
“Goodnight.” Meg shook his hand. He put his hands in his pockets, nodded at me then sauntered back inside.
“It was worth you coming after all.”
“I’m not calling him.”
“No?”
“No.”
“And why not?”
“I have to go on Monday.”
“So?”
I rubbed my temples. My head was starting to pound. I kept my mouth shut.
“Go on, Alec. Tell me why you won’t see him.”
“I don’t trust him…them. Any of them.”
“Oh my God,” she said. “Seriously?”
“That man Ogdell is a property developer.”
“One interested in hiring my firm.”
“So, what? Them knowing I was gay and just happening to invite along a good-looking surfer-type who, wow, is also gay? That was all, what? Coincidence?”
She shook her head. “Alex, Brody Harris works for Jon. He manages his West Coast office in the states.”
“That doesn’t change my point.”
She stared at me a moment longer then looked away. “Living up in Dracula’s castle for so long has made you paranoid.”
“I wasn’t paranoid about Bastle and Hisks—or that Visions Inc. before that? They all try the friendly routes first—the invites, the gifts, the exclusive offers. Then they move in with the less-friendly ones.”
“This is nothing to do with you, Alec…or Glenroe. I was invited tonight. I took you along as a favor.”
“I thought I was the one doing you the favor.”
Her face was full of equal parts hurt and anger. “David wasn’t the only reason you stopped doing drugs. Remember?”
I closed my eyes, guilt sour on my tongue. “I’m sorry.”
The car drew up. Meg got in without speaking. She spent the drive back messaging on her phone and not meeting my eye. I turned Harris’ card over in my hands and didn’t speak either.
Chapter Two
By breakfast, Meg appeared to have forgiven me, more or less. She warmed croissants, made a pot of very good coffee and chattered about her plans for her new department.
“You really should call him.”
I blinked, realizing I’d been staring at Brody Harris’ card on the counter. I finished my coffee, relieved to feel it start poking holes in my hangover. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Come on, Alec,” she said, gently. “So what if he works for a property developer? No one’s saying you need to marry the guy. Just have lunch. What’s the worst that could happen? You told him yourself you’re heading home tomorrow.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “What about you?”
“I’m sure I can manage without you for a few hours.”
I turned the card over in my hands a few times before catching the knowing spark in Meg’s eyes, so I retreated to my bedroom to make the call. Two hours later I sat shifting in the seat at a table near the window of a Mediterranean restaurant, still not entirely sure what I was doing. I talked myself into and back out of leaving three times before Harris showed up. He smiled at me across the busy room whilst hanging his coat. I caught myself watching the way he moved, all strength and controlled confidence. He was in tight black jeans and a blue shirt that brought out his eyes. He sat and smiled at me in a way that made my skin ripple.
“You came. I owe myself a drink.”
“Meg virtually kicked me out the door.”
He smiled wider. “Well, I guess I owe her a drink then. You can drink it for her.” He caught the attention of the waitress and ordered tapas and a bottle of rioja. Harris poured whilst he continued to watch me closely. “It’s not too early for you?”
I took a mouthful instead of answering. It was rich and fruity and went some way to easing the lingering fog of the night before, though not my strung-up nerves.
“You don’t talk much, huh?”
I swallowed. “I’ve not got much to talk about.”
“Sure,” he said, “an estate in the Cairngorm mountains, a famous father, a title, land, educated at Cambridge. Nothing of interest there.”
The knot had re-formed in my belly. “Have you been googling me?”
His eyes glittered. “Mainly image searches.” The blood rushed to my face and farther down my body. I coughed, internally cursing my dry spell, and he grinned. “But your Wikipedia article is informative.”
“I have a Wikipedia article?”
“Sure,” he said with an easy shrug. “But don’t let it go to your head. Jon has one too.”
“What about you?”
He laughed. “I’m not important enough.”
“I mean…” I fumbled, glancing around the crowded room. “Tell me about you.”
The food arrived whilst he was giving me another of his loaded looks. I busied myself with olives and battered squid rings, waiting for him to speak. He didn’t until I met his eyes. Then he leaned forward, poured more wine and began to talk about Santa Monica, his work renovating hotels, his cars, his boat. None of it was anything that I would normally find remotely interesting, but his voice was smooth, his manner easy, his face open and so ready to smile that I both stared and listened intently.
It was what David had been like, at the beginning.