“Oh, sorry yes, everything is fine. I… there’s… a delivery is all.”
Her stuttered response set alarm bells ringing, but before I got a chance to enquire further she’d already started to discuss the email I’d sent. “I’ve set up the meeting that you requested with the board. However, that means I’ll need to rearrange several other meetings in order to make it happen. I’ve had to cancel the few days holiday in New York you were planning on taking. I looked at every possible option to try and keep it, but there was just no space to reschedule it. You’ll need to go through your calendar yourself as you’re better placed to see who you want to bump in order to take a few days off.”
I chose to ignore her motherly concern as she continued to detail the rearrangements of my planned schedule. “It’s not the end of the world if I can’t take a few days off—”
“Now wait a minute, mister. It’s been well over a year since you last took any time off. I only cancelled the trip because I know how much the hotel means to you. If you don’t rearrange some of your plans, then I will.”
Her tone became sterner as she continued to speak. Only the many years of knowing her kept me from biting her head off for being so pushy. Instead, I waited until she’d lost her head of steam before responding. “I can’t promise anything but I’ll take a look at it.” It was the best I could offer. She remained silent, knowing that I’d keep my word.
“Fine. Now, how was Madrid? And remind me again why you’ve decided that you need to attend a charity event in Edinburgh ahead of your return tomorrow? I’m sure we’ve already declined an invitation to the fashion show and sent a large donation to the children’s charity?” May sounded perplexed and I was glad that I wasn’t sitting in front of her as my face heated at the thought of the real reason I was attending the charity event.
Once the London fashion show had ended and I’d untangled myself from people who’d wanted to talk about it, I’d gone in search of the model, but he’d already disappeared. I’d even gone to the after-show party, something I’d never done before, only to find out that he hadn’t attended. At the time, I’d refused to acknowledge how disappointed I’d been not to see him so I could figure out who he really was—the flamboyant model who’d swayed seductively down a catwalk showing off his body to all and sundry, or the geeky student who wore scruffy clothes and nerdy glasses.
After two weeks of him popping randomly into my thoughts, I’d finally acknowledged that I was more than a little interested in the guy. It was extremely disconcerting to find myself attracted to the same sex when I never had been before.
Life had taught me that there was no point in hiding from reality. The attraction would still be there when I took my head out of the sand. So I’d finally admitted it to myself and begun a search to find out more about the man. The only thing was, it was a little harder than I’d anticipated. With Sigrid away on holiday with Alice, I hadn’t been able to ask her who the guy was. It was only when I’d contacted Holly, Sigrid’s assistant, to ask her which modelling agencies they’d used for the show that I’d hit pay dirt.
Charles McGregor was twenty-two and had been born in Glasgow Infirmary on July seventeenth. He was also employed part-time by the modelling agency I owned.
“Are you seriously ignoring me right now?” May enquired in a miffed voice that pulled me from my thoughts.
“Sorry, I was distracted”—my gaze moved to the window and the traffic—“by an annoyingly long queue of traffic.” It was all I could offer and I prayed that she wouldn’t call me out on it when I sounded more than a little flustered.
“Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy your traffic while I work my magic on the pile of work you sent me from Madrid. Enjoy the show.”
There was a mischievous note to her voice that made me wonder if she’d figured out why I was going. Shaking off the worrisome thought, I said my goodbyes and pocketed my phone. I stared out the window, but my mind was already on tonight and seeing Charles again. I’d always been straightforward with people I was attracted to. I was too old to play games.
My fingers dug into my shirt collar tugging it away from my neck in an effort to suck in some air as my chest heaved. The very idea of acting the same way I would with a woman quickly got me flustered. Shitting hell!
How did a man approach another man to see if they were interested?
I growled out loud and slumped back against the seat, staring into space. How the fuck did one find this stuff out? Resting my head on the leather, I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. Did I know any gay men?
I swallowed a sigh as I recalled all the people I knew and started to guess at their sexual orientation. It wasn’t something I’d ever given much thought to. After ten minutes, it had started to make my head pound, so I gave up.
I’d built a fucking empire on top of the one already entrusted to me by Alexander. Surely, I could figure out if a guy was gay and interested in me?
Four hours later, sat at the overpriced meal and waiting for the fashion show to start, I was regretting my decision to attend. No matter how much I needed to find out if what I felt for Charlie was some sort of fluke, it wasn’t worth the nonsense I was having to endure from the pompous prick sat on my left at the table.
Richard, or Dickie to his friends, hadn’t been able to wait to talk about business once he’d seen the card by my plate detailing who I was. He’d instantly thought that I’d be interested in investing in a cockamamie pyramid scheme that shouted “invest at your peril.” I’d stupidly humoured him at the beginning.
Now, after several cocktails, he wasn’t clueing in to the fact that I wasn’t interested in throwing my money down the drain. “Listen, Richard. I have no interest in adding to my portfolio of businesses at the moment due to the amount of work it takes for me to keep on top of them—”
“That’s the beauty of it, you won’t need to because I’ll be doing that.” He smiled as if he’d found the answer to the universal question of how the Earth was round but one had ever fallen off it, rather than rudely interrupting me.
I held up my hand and, thankfully, he stopped talking. “No thank you,” I ground out. “I have enough on my plate but thank you for the offer,” I added, not sounding at all thankful, but it was the best I could give him.
His unfocused gaze remained on me as his eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re turning me down?” he blustered, his face going red.
“Yes.” Seeing no point in carrying on the conversation, I focused on the dessert plate in front of me.
A gong sounded and I glanced up, grateful that it seemed as if the fashion show was about to start.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you all for taking the time to come and support our charity for homeless teenagers. The money raised tonight will all go to helping the youth of Scotland.”
The speaker continued and Richard huffed twice during her speech, forcing me to turn and give him a hard stare. It took several seconds before he stopped and glowered at me in return.
Once the speeches were finished, I excused myself from the table. My hands balled in the pockets of my trousers as I headed to the bathroom, needing a couple of minutes to stop myself from throttling the fool.