by CJ Turner
“So you called Thelia?” Theo had changed his number so that Armand wouldn’t call him. So he wouldn’t have the hope of Armand calling him. Now, he had to change it again.
“She’s the only one who’d speak with me,” said Armand unabashedly.
Theo closed his eyes and drew in a breath.
“The Greene Plaza,” said Theo.
“No, please, Theo. I can’t be alone.”
Theo wanted to give him the retort that Armand didn’t think about that when he left, but he gazed at the man’s tortured face, full of the pain of that night, and he couldn’t turn him away.
“It’s only for a few days. I need to get back to Waterside.”
“That would be tremendous. Thank you, Theo.”
Sure. He thinks he has a few days to work on me again.
Theo led Armand to the Porsche but wouldn’t take Armand’s hand when Armand offered it. But that didn’t deter Armand’s campaign.
“You got a Porsche?” cooed Armand.
“No. It’s my father’s. I borrowed it for the evening.”
“Oh. I have a prescription,” said Armand.
Of course, you do.
Theo found an all-night pharmacy, and while they waited, Theo called ahead to his building and arranged with the doorman to turn on the air-conditioning to his apartment. When the pharmacist tech announced the price, Armand stood inspecting magazines, pretending not to notice, so Theo dug out his credit card.
You should get one of those smartwatches that takes your money with a swipe. It would make it so much easier for your friends to take advantage of you.
Only Armand was not a friend. Not anymore.
Theo couldn’t remember a week where he laid out so much money in a brief span. He could hear his father’s exhortation to avoid spending the family fortune. Not that the Collins’ wealth was in danger of depletion from one oxycodone prescription. Or even one large flower order for his best friend.
When they reached his Fifth Avenue apartment, Armand walked through like a cat reacquainting its surroundings after a visit to the vet.
It was a large open floor plan apartment with cathedral ceilings and two bedrooms at the right-hand end. Theo walked into the kitchen and checked the freezer and found nothing edible.
“Do you want takeout?” said Theo.
“You removed my painting,” Armand complained.
Theo pulled a Shafer Vineyards Merlot from the rack in the kitchen and poured two glasses.
“I donated it to a museum. They were thrilled to get an original Favron. Here you go.” He set Armand’s glass on the kitchen island with a click on the white marble.
Armand tried to affect a casual saunter as he made his way to the kitchen island, but Theo noticed he limped. Theo glanced away as Armand sat on a high stool, looking more defeated than before.
“What will I do?” said Armand. Theo caught the note of despair in Armand’s voice and resisted the urge to wrap his arms around him.
“You’ll get a new place to live. Paint. Go on.”
“I’m not sure that I have the strength to do that.”
And I’m not sure I can see you through this. Armand’s life had been a series of bad choices and worse men. This wasn’t a new story, and Theo doubted Armand would spin a new one.
Theo sipped from his glass and wished he had food to go with the wine.
“I’m ordering out. Pizza good?”
Armand waved away the suggestion. “I’m not hungry.”
“Fine. I am.”
Armand turned the wine bottle’s label toward him and huffed.
“A California wine,” he complained.
“Last I looked, California was a hot bed of winemaking,” said Theo. “Some wineries had the nerve to win awards.”
Armand pushed the glass away, and for once Theo ignored the provocation.
Theo placed a pizza order online and then ordered a few other meals to keep in the fridge. He wasn’t sure what would happen but staying in the apartment with Armand would be a disaster.
Nor, he decided, could Armand expect Theo’s long-term financial support. It wasn’t the money, but as long as Armand could count on Theo, then he’d never leave Theo alone.
Next of kin, indeed.
Armand declared he needed a bath and slid off the stool.
“Take the guest bedroom,” said Theo. Armand stopped in midstep as if Theo had struck him, and then walked into Theo’s room anyway. Theo cursed under his breath.
Fine, I’ll take the guest bedroom.
After eating, a wave of exhaustion hit Theo. There was no way he could drive back to the Hamptons now. After stripping to his boxers, he slid under the slightly stale sheets of the bed of the guest room. He was too tired to change them, and they were clean. He dozed off only to wake with a start to find Armand getting under the sheets.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Must you ask? I told you I don’t want to be alone.”
Theo sat and swung his legs over the bed, aggravated at Armand waking him with this stunt.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“This is your home.”
“But it isn’t yours. Be gone in three days.”
“Please, Theo. Don’t leave. We can work this out.” Armand’s voice was rough with pain, but Theo now knew in his bones that he wasn’t responsible for it.
Theo pulled on his pants, slipped his arm into his shirt and toed his shoes on.
“I remember those words spoken in this apartment before. Only it wasn’t you that spoke them.”
“Theo, I’m sorry.”
“Good. Three days, Armand.”
“Fine, I’ll sleep in the other bed.”
“What bed?”
“Okay, I’ll sleep in this one. Just don’t leave, please. The doctor said someone should wake me every few hours, just in case.”
Theo hung his head. He couldn’t act as heartlessly as he wanted, or as cold as Armand deserved.
“Fine.”
Chapter Seven
Lennox
“Oh, flowers,” said Mrs. Pearson with a smile.
Lennox chuckled. “It is an irony but seemed appropriate.”
“It’s a lovely arrangement. You have an eye for composition.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time online researching how to make flower arrangements. It’s more complicated than it seems. How are you feeling?”
It had been three days since Lennox received the call from the hospital, and he had been frantic with worry. No one would tell him about her condition, and the hospital only allowed family in the ICU. Finally, the hospital stepped her down to a regular room, and Lennox could visit. But Mrs. Pearson ignored his question.
“It’s early for you?” she asked instead.
“Had to get here before I opened the store. I’m trying to keep things just as you run them.”
She pointed to the window ledge, and Lennox placed the vase there.
“I appreciate that, but it’s a terrible amount of work for you.”
“Not a problem.” Lennox appreciated staying busy. Without the work, he’d obsess about Theo’s lack of communication. It had only been three days, but each new sunrise without that call made it less likely.
“Elias will get in on Saturday or Sunday on the first flight he can get.”
Lennox held back his inner commentary about Elias not showing up faster because had it been his grandmother, he would have swum the Atlantic Ocean to get to her.
“That will be good. I should be able to come home Sunday. How’s the Grant order coming?”
“It’s fine,” lied Lennox. He didn’t want to worry her. When he investigated “heart attack” on the internet, the possible three-month recovery period shocked him.
Elias better get his ass home fast.
Lennox could handle the floral shop for the short-term, but the business needed a more practiced hand for the long haul. Elias spent summers working in his grandmother’s shop and cou
ld run it better than him. Lennox required more time than a week to get to speed on arranging flowers. Even now, he picked at the arrangement in the vase he put together.
“I’m sorry to have left you with that order. You can call and cancel. I’m sure Thelia, Livvy’s mother, would understand.”
“No,” said Lennox. He spoke too loudly and regretted it. He turned to Mrs. Pearson. “I have it handled. I’ve ordered the flowers and other supplies for the design, and they’ll be here today.
“My dear boy, how did you order things?”
Lennox turned back to the arrangement and fiddled it some more.
“Don’t you worry about that.”
“Lennox,” she said in a warning tone.
“Hey,” he said brightly. “You used my full name.”
“Don’t change the subject. You used the money I’ve paid you, didn’t you?”
Lennox didn’t answer and continued to move flowers in the vase.
“That’s your money.”
“You’ve been more than generous with me. I know my apartment could rent for far more than my help in the shop.”
“You’re paying the rent with your work now.” She sighed. “Okay, whatever you sell for cash in the shop between now and my return, you take. I can’t have you fainting from hunger.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve lost ten pounds since you arrived in Waterside. No. I insist.”
Lennox sighed. He had lost weight, but the fact wasn’t because he couldn’t buy food. He had no desire to eat, not since he met Theo Collins. Thinking about the man with the honey highlights in his hair drove Lennox to distraction, and more than one “private” shower.
“It’s not ten pounds, but thanks. But I’m only taking lunch money.”
“You are a stubborn man, Lennox Sewell.”
“Gotta go. Call if you need anything.”
With a wave to Mrs. Pearson, he left the hospital quickly and jogged in the July heat to the shop. He swung onto Main Street and ran past Theo’s shop, but it was dark and empty, just as it had been for the past three days. He wondered if something had happened to him. But, he reasoned, in a small town like Waterside, everyone knew each other’s business. If something dramatic happened to Theo Collins, the entire village would gossip about it. Hell, it would end up front-page news on the eight-page Waterside Weekly, mailed every Tuesday to each house whether you asked for it or not.
Lennox arrived at the back door of Pearson’s floral shop to find several stacked boxes and said a prayer of thanks. He had spent the first day agonizing over what he could present that was original and classy that would serve a nighttime engagement party. He spent hours pouring over social media posts and found the current theme had been flowers submerged in tube vases. But mulling it over, he decided it was an overused motif, and Livvy wanted “original.” Finally, by luck, he found a clear wide triangular vase on his internet searches, and it was a shape he thought he could work with. It hit an elegant note, not as stark as the tube vases, or as traditional as the usual container found in flower shops. He ordered twenty-six, and two smaller ones of the same shape and tiny battery-operated fairy lights. He figured that greens at the bottom and the lights mixed in with baby’s breath would create a dramatic middle. The top he planned to fill in with white and green hydrangeas to fill the space quickly and add light pink peonies mixed throughout for contrast.
But the pride he felt for his design came laced with a case of nerves. What if Livvy’s socialite friends thought it horrible? He couldn’t think of an easier way to sink the fortunes of Pearson’s Floral.
After taking Bonkers for a quick walk, he opened the shop and set to work. Lennox’s phone rang when he had sunk his arms elbow-deep in water to soak the floral foam for the one test arrangement he’d try.
Swearing, Lennox wiped his hands before reaching for the phone, but it stopped ringing. His heart stuttered when he saw it was Theo. He quickly keyed the number.
But instead of Theo’s caramel voice, an older, rougher man answered.
‘Hello?”
“Hello, um, may I speak with Theo?”
“Who is this?” demanded the man.
“Excuse me? May I speak with Theo? He’d know who this is because he just called me.”
The man gave a cruel laugh.
“I knew the bitch had a piece on the side. He’s been acting strange. Theo’s not available, Lennox, is it? That’s what the screen says.”
Lennox stepped backward into the center worktable as the unknown man’s words hit him in the gut. Of course, Theo had a lover. Why wouldn’t he? Theo was just another rich guy that used people.
At least it was only one kiss, he told himself. Nothing fatal, just a disappointment.
Armand, who is that?” said Theo in the background.
Armand. Not, ‘you bastard, why did you answer my phone?’
Bonkers chose that second to dash into the workroom and barked.
“Quiet, Bonkers,” Lennox scolded. Then he turned his attention to the man who had answered Theo’s phone.
“You have this wrong. I thought Mr. Collins had called asking about an order he placed. Obviously not. I’m sorry I troubled you.”
“Nothing, mon chérie. Some delivery person.”
Lennox died inside at that mon chérie, which confirmed his worst fears.
Lennox clicked off the call and put his phone on the workroom table because his hands shook too much to slip it into his pocket. Bonkers looked up at him, cocked his head, and whined.
“Quiet you. Your taste in men is worse than mine.”
“Woof!” answered Bonkers as to scold Lennox. He turned and trotted back to his bed and settled in with a huff.
“You do that,” said Lennox with a growl. “Traitor!”
Bonkers gave a loud doggie snuffle as if to tell Lennox to keep his pique to himself.
“Fine!” Lennox turned and shoved the workroom table hard, and to his surprise, the heavy wood table scraped against the floor and flew several inches. Lennox watched in horror as his phone slipped and crashed face down on the red tile floor.
He retrieved the device from the floor with a sense of dread and found the glass front shattered. He groaned and wondered what it would cost to get that fixed. He couldn’t afford a new phone.
The phone rang, and the name came up as Theo. He cursed. Even now that he knew the truth about Theo Collins, he wanted to answer it. But the shattered screen made that impossible without shredding his fingers.
“Fabulous,” he said. “A metaphor for my life.”
Chapter Eight
Theo
Theo snatched the phone from Armand’s hand, and his blood ran cold when he saw the last call.
“What did you say to him?” demanded Theo. He hated losing his temper, but the last three days with Armand had been nerve-racking.
“Me? Nothing?”
Theo thumbed through his contact list and groaned.
“You called him,” said Theo. His voice came out husky from the shock of discovering his ex-lover dialing numbers on his phone.
“And is this the reason that you’ve been frosty to me, mon chérie? A fresh nugget to replace an aging fag?”
Theo covered his face with his hand. He did not want to have this argument. It was fruitless and would end up with cruel words. Armand did not need that, but neither did Theo.
For the past few days, Theo grew horrified at the extent of Armand’s injuries. It surprised him that the hospital released Armand, but Armand had no money and no health insurance. And considering the man’s pride, he wouldn’t accept State help. Theo had shivered at what would have happened to the man if Theo had not arrived and taken him in.
It didn’t help that Armand had burned his bridges in New York. His last lover, that abusive bastard, had worked Armand over good and Armand had cut ties with his few remaining friends. It was such a classic case that Theo searched for a recovery center specializing in domestic abuse. There were several i
n the New York City area but they were overfilled. Even the promise of a generous donation didn’t seem to move the needle. But he did receive a call this morning that a slot had opened up.
Not that he could convince Armand it was the best option. He adamantly refused to enter treatment. And now the man pried into Theo’s business.
Theo called Lennox, but there was no answer. He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. If Armand pulled his usual crap, then Lennox had every right not to pick up the phone.
“Okay,” said Theo. “Pack your things.”
“But, mon chérie—”
“Don’t mon chérie me. We’ve had the same discussion for the past three days. I’m sorry you went through hell, but you must take responsibility for your choices. I’m leaving my apartment today, and you will not be staying.”
“I’m sorry, mon chérie, if I interfered—”
“Save your apologies. You either go to the center, or you go to the street. Your choice.”
“You can afford to put me in an apartment. Make it possible for me to paint again. And when I do and sell some paintings, I can repay you.”
“That’s a lovely plan, but my well isn’t endless. I’m trying to get a business off the ground. And you have a track record of not following through. How do I know if you won’t fall in with the same scum and call me again to rescue you? Or worse yet, end up dead. I can’t do it, Armand. I’ll make sure you’re safe this time, but it’s up to you from here on out.
Theo’s phone rang, and against the odds, he hoped it was Lennox. Instead, it was his father. Theo blew out a breath while he walked to his study.
“Hello, Dad.”
“What is this contribution for $150,000 to Domestic Abuse Recovery? I’m all for philanthropy, but you’ve hit your limit on your trust fund this year.”
Theo rubbed the back of his neck.
“I know, Dad. But it’s important. It’s for Armand.”
His father huffed in disapproval. “That’s why you rushed to the city.”
“Dad, I’d appreciate it if you would approve the donation. I’m trying to convince him to go there now.”
“Son, I love you, but you’ve been making too many questionable choices this year. That business of yours, and now this man. I don’t want to see you back with him, or any like him. He’s trouble.”
