by Tara Lain
“Excuse me, Mr. Maitland.”
Glaciers melted down his back. Slowly he looked up at Officer Johns in his police car. Ru glanced ahead. Lots of people on Forest. None here. “Good day, Officer.” He started walking toward the shoppers ahead. The car crawled along with him.
“Please get in the car, Mr. Maitland. We have some additional questions.”
“I’ve answered all the questions I intend to, Officer Johns. You have no more business with me.”
“I’m afraid I do. If you take another step, you’re dead.”
Ru paused in midstep and looked at the police vehicle—and the police revolver pointed directly at him. In the corner of his eye, he caught movement in the backseat of the car. The door behind the driver’s seat started to open. Johns’s eyes flicked back, and Ru took off like some hellhound wanted a new dress. He zigzagged—even the best marksmen were unreliable with a handgun—then raced between two houses that had been converted into businesses.
Still holding the phone, he glanced down. Favorites. Click. He held it to his mouth. “Help. Help.”
He rounded the white-and-yellow clapboard structure. Damn. Behind the buildings was a mass of fences leading to other houses and apartments. Ru leaped for the first fence, pulled himself up, and was just throwing his legs over when the pop of a silenced shot hit the wood next to him. Jesus, the bastards were shooting in the middle of Laguna Beach. He hit the ground behind some kind of low-rise office building. Nobody working. He tried the back door. Locked.
Pop.
Shit. He leaped behind a shed. Between those buildings was another street, even less traveled than the one he’d been on. But the bastards were on foot, and he was fast. With a jump, he scaled the next fence and pulled himself over before two more bullets splintered the wood. Okay, baby, run! He dashed toward the busy street, now about five blocks away. His fingers searched the keyboard. He tried for 911.
Pop.
Shit. He swerved and leaped behind a parked car. Damn, he’d missed the numbers. Tried again. Pop pop. Run, idiot.
At full speed he heard a voice. He put the phone to his ear. “Help. I’m on Decatur. Someone’s shooting at me.”
“Cross street?”
Pop.
“Idiot, they’re shooting.”
Footsteps behind him. Somebody must be damned fast.
Swerving again, he leaped across a car hood. A hand swiped the air behind him. Fuck!
The squeal of tires screeched up the street. Hell, had Johns gone back for the car?
He wanted to look. Don’t! Run!
A huge shriek of rubber sounded like it was right behind him.
The unmistakable thud of a body hitting metal.
A scream.
Ru dove behind a car and looked back.
Sweet holy Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Some big, mean-looking thug lay sprawled on the ground with Gray crouching over him, delivering blows to his head and body. The limo blocked the street at an angle, with tire marks following it where the big vehicle had clearly flattened the bad guy. Farther down the street, Chris held Officer Johns against a fence, pressing Johns’s gun against the policeman’s heart.
Somewhere in the distance, a siren cut the air.
Still breathing hard, Ru stood and walked to Gray. He grinned. “Need some help with that, Mr. Anson?”
The gangster opened his eyes and stared up at the biggest movie star on earth holding him by the throat.
Ru shook his head. “No. I can see you don’t.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chief Kincaid shook her head. “I’m very sorry that you’ve had to spend more time at the police station than at home lately, Ru. And of course, we’ll need you and Mr. Anson to testify against these people.” She nodded at Gray.
“So the dude who attacked me was that lowlife’s brother? The one I disarmed?”
“Yes. He’s a known drug dealer out of Los Angeles who’s been trying to pick up some of the tourist drug trade using his not-very-reliable brother as a salesman. You pissed him off when you sent his brother to jail, but apparently he knew you from your AD days, so he was responsible for the misinformation we received about your involvement in the murder.”
“And Johns?”
“I gather he’s been a conduit for drugs and receiving a substantial kickback for his cooperation. We don’t get much of this kind of crime in Laguna. I’m sorry you had to be involved in it.”
“It sounds to me like I brought it with me.”
“Ah yes, our gangbanger designer. I’m sure you’ll just make Laguna that much more famous.” She stood. “We’ll have a lot more questions, but for now, you’re free to go.”
Ru looked at Gray. “Do you still have a limo?”
He smiled. “It’s a little the worse for wear, but it will travel.”
“Can I hitch a ride?”
“Forever.”
Ru cocked his head. What does he mean by that?
Kincaid said, “I’m afraid half the reporters in the country are outside our station right now. The chamber of commerce should send you a personal note of thanks, Mr. Anson.”
He wrinkled his beautiful nose. “Maybe not my favorite kind of publicity.”
They walked into the station lobby. Here he was again. Officer Cantrell gazed at Gray with stars in her eyes.
Gray turned to Ru. “You called me for help.”
“Yes.”
“Why not Bernardo?”
Ru frowned. “I looked down at my favorites. I only had time to call one.” He shrugged.
“Bernardo’s the tough guy.”
“I think I got the tough guy.” He half smiled. “Besides, I figured if I was going to die, I’d go out thinking of you.”
“How would you like to do that for real?”
“What?”
“Come on.” Gray took Ru’s hand and led him toward the door.
“Wait. The press.” Ru tried to disengage his hand.
Gray held on and pushed the door open.
“Gray!”
“Gray! Did you save Ru’s life?”
“Gray, you’re a hero!”
He held up a hand. Instant quiet. Shit, I’d like to learn that talent.
Gray smiled the smile that made mountains quiver, and flashes went off all over the parking lot. “Hi again. We seem to be spending a lot of time together.” Everyone laughed. His hand tightened on Ru’s. “Let’s see. Did I save Ru’s life?”
Ru leaned forward and said, “Yes!”
“Well, if I did, it’s only because he’s saved my life on more than one occasion. You also asked if I’m a hero. Definitely not. I may have the nerve to leap out of burning buildings and drive fast motorcycles, but I haven’t had the guts to tell you and my fans that I’m gay.”
The place went silent. Ru stared at Gray like he’d released the Kraken. He didn’t just say that.
The parking lot turned into bedlam as reporters shoved mics into Gray’s face and made frantic calls back to their mother ships.
Gray held up his hand again. This time it only kind of worked. “I’ve told you that Ru Maitland is my partner, but I never described what kind. Ru is my business partner and, I hope, my life partner. If he’ll have me, that is.”
People were screaming. “What will this do to your career?”
“What about your fans?”
One of the female reporters yelled, “Hey, Ru, he saved your life. You gotta say yes.”
Ru gazed up into Gray’s perfect face.
Gray smiled. “I figured after all the crap I’ve put him through over the last few weeks, I had to at least take down a bad guy to show him I meant business.”
Ru raised his chin. “And do you mean business?”
“With all my heart.”
“Holy shit, darling.”
Gray picked Ru up and gave him a smile. He yelled, “Here’s your photo op, guys. Then we’re out of here, so make it good.”
Ru grabbed Gray’s head and kissed
him. He did make it good.
Ru stood backstage and adjusted the ruffled hem of the wedding gown. Molly looked amazing.
An arm circled his shoulders, and Ru stood and looked down at Shaz, who had several clients at Fashion Week—and had come back to oversee the finishing touches on Ru’s show. “They’re eating it up, love. We’re going to be taking orders for days. Naturally, all of my clients will be wearing Ru Maitland this season.”
Ru grinned. “The fire marshal had to warn the organizers not to let people stand in the aisles.” He laughed. “Of course, half of the attendees came to see Gray.”
“Oh, I don’t know. The Gangster Designer’s a pretty big draw on his own.”
Ru made a face. “I’m hoping that’s going to die down. I’m sure the ADs don’t like being associated with a gay designer.”
“Even one who gets to spend his life with Gray Anson?”
Ru flashed what had to be a sappy smile. “There is that.”
Molly swept past them onto the runway, and the level of applause shook the roof.
Shaz hugged him tight. “Congratulations, my friend.”
“Thank you, dear.” He wiped a hand over his eyes.
“Ah, don’t smear your eyeliner.” Shaz held Ru’s face and wiped under his eyes with a finger. “Okay, go get ’em.”
The line of models stomped onto the runway for the finale, with Molly at the end. Ru took her arm and walked out to the applause of the huge crowd. Cameras flashed and people cheered. Ru waved at the crowd, but his eyes searched the seats for that one perfect smile. There. Ru smiled back. People around Gray followed Ru’s gaze and clapped even harder. Gray didn’t stand or wave or make himself obvious in any way. All he did was smile and pour love through his eyes.
For over an hour, Ru drank champagne with the VIPs—and at a gathering like this, everyone was a VIP, so it was a bunch of people. Gray hadn’t come. He said he didn’t want to “divide the focus,” and he had to take his folks back to the hotel to rest before dinner. Odd. Billy wasn’t there either.
Shaz came up hauling a great-looking middle-aged woman, dressed to kill. “Ru, dear, this is the editor of Fashion Today.”
Ru’s heart leaped. “I’m so delighted to meet you, Mrs. Carstairs. Thank you for coming to my show.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it, Ru. If I had, I would have missed one of the highlights of the season. Brilliant collection. Of course, we’ll be saying that in the pages of Fashion Today.”
“I’m honored.” He could pass out, he was so honored.
“Can’t we lure you and Shaz to New York?”
“We’ve talked about opening an office here, but our heart and home rests in Laguna.”
“Closer to Hollywood, I guess.” She winked. “We’ll look forward to your next collection—and to buying from this one.”
“Thank you so much.”
Mrs. Carstairs swept away, and Ru grabbed Shaz’s arm. “Hold me up, dear. Fashion Today!”
“Just the beginning.”
“Where’s Billy?”
Shaz shrugged. “He said we were too busy, and he’d get in the way. He’s meeting us for dinner.”
Ru pressed a hand to his stomach. “I hope that’s soon. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
It took another half hour, but finally Ru and Shaz climbed into a limo Gray had hired for the week. Chris grinned. “Ready, gentlemen?”
Ru laughed. “More than. I’m starving.”
Chris ferried them through the New York traffic to a small bistro on the east side. Ru didn’t get to New York much. “Is their food good?”
Shaz patted his arm. “I’ve heard great things.”
As they pulled up, a line of reporters pressed toward the limo. “They know he’s here. Poor Gray.”
Chris got out and held the door for them. As Ru exited, a lady reporter stepped forward with a cameraman behind her.
“Congratulations on the great success of your collection, Ru.”
“Uh, thank you.” Funny, he’d never met this reporter, but she talked like she knew him.
Shaz got out beside him.
She beamed at him. “Congratulations, Shaz.”
“None of my doing, darling. This is all about Ru Maitland Designs. I just dress my clients in his brilliance.”
“What do you and Gray have planned now, Ru? I understand that while his latest film was a huge success, box office did decline in certain regions of the country and the world when compared to his last picture. Do you attribute that to his coming out and revealing your relationship?”
Ru sighed. “Gray’s one of the most talented actors working today—as he proved in his recent performance of Hamlet. He’s earned the right to do anything he wants to do, and I’ll be happy to do whatever it is with him.” He grinned. “But anybody, gay or straight, who denies themselves the chance to see that ass on the big screen should apply for a mental health examination.”
Shaz laughed, grabbed his arm, and pulled him into the restaurant, with Chris running interference from the rear.
They walked into a small reception area. A pretty hostess smiled. “Welcome, Mr. Maitland.” Interesting she knew his name.
Shaz walked ahead of him and pushed back the divider that separated the reception from the restaurant. Ru stepped through, and every person at the long tables started to clap.
Ru gasped as Shaz shoved him forward, directly into Gray’s waiting arms. “Happy first collection. Surprise.” Gray kissed Ru gently.
Wow. Well, just fucking wow. Ru glanced around at the group. Not huge. Just people he mostly would have picked filled the long tables arranged in a big rectangle. Many of the cast of Hamlet were there—Beverly, Tilda, and Phillip. Artie had his arm around a woman Ru didn’t know. Merle sat across from Bernardo and—holy Jesus—Penelope, who was tucked in beside Benson and Chris. Gray’s parents smiled at Ru from one side of the table, and Billy occupied the other side, where Shaz scooted in and joined him.
Only two seats sat empty, and Gray led Ru to one of them. Gray sat, but Ru stared at the group of people who had changed his life. He shook his head. “I don’t know how I got here. I was just a gay kid who liked to sew, trying to survive on the streets of LA. But my mom—” He smiled. “—she didn’t have much to give me, but she let me count her thread and never called me a sissy for doing it. Bernardo put his life on the line to get me away from the gang and into school.” Ru grabbed his glass and raised it to his friend.
Bernardo nodded. “You let me see that it was okay to expect more. That maybe I had some potential greater than violence. Thank you, corazón.”
Ru turned his gaze to Shaz. “The first moment I saw you, larger than any life I’d ever encountered before, I knew I wanted to be your friend. When you chose me to be your design partner that day in class, I could have died on the spot and been happy. You’ve let me share your wonderful adventures and showed me in your love for Billy what was possible. Thank you, my dear friend.”
Shaz wiped his eyes and snuggled into Billy’s arms.
Ru looked down at Gray, sitting beside him. “And now there’s you. I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you walk onto the screen. I know that sounds childish, but it’s still true. If I’d never met you, I would have gone through life knowing that some piece of my heart was missing. You’re my hero.”
Gray grabbed him, pulled him down, and kissed him. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Now let’s eat before we’re all crying too hard to chew.”
Food started arriving—soup, salads, a choice of entrées—and the person who seemed to be directing the event was Penelope. Ru watched her with his mouth open, then glanced at Gray. He chuckled. “She said she wanted to help, and Penelope doesn’t help halfway.”
As she flitted by, giving orders to the waiters, Penelope stopped. “I can’t regret not having something that was never mine.” She smiled. “Besides, I’d be crazy to hate the hottest new designer in New York.” She winked and ran off to yell
at the chef.
Somewhere between the entrée and the totally decadent dessert, Artie leaned forward and looked at Gray. “You once said you’d consider doing a film with me.”
Gray shook his head. “No, I said I’d love to do any movie you ever wanted to do.”
“How about a film version of Hamlet? Don’t you think what a couple thousand people got to see on the stage should be shared with the world?”
Gray’s famous smile lit the room. “Man, what an idea. With the original cast, right? Beverly, Phillip, Tilda, and, of course, the finest Horatio of them all.”
Merle let out a whoop.
Artie nodded. “Getting funding won’t be easy. Even with Gray Anson in the lead, Shakespeare isn’t a big moneymaker.”
“But with Ru’s costumes—” He laughed. “—and my money, I don’t think we’ll have much trouble getting it made.”
Benson cleared his throat. “We’ll have to work on scheduling, since you’ve been offered two new films and a Broadway play.”
Gray laughed. “You’re kidding. I thought my box office was down.”
“It is, which means producers who’ve wanted to use you for smaller films think they might be able to get you now.”
Pamela laughed. “That’s perfect. I’m happy to see Gray do something that isn’t exclusively about blowing shit up.”
Merle grinned. “So we all get to work together again.”
Ru just hugged Gray’s arm.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ru unlocked the suite and bumped the door with his hip to get inside. “Oh my God, what a day!” He threw his arms in the air as he crossed the living room toward the windows. “What a year! What a life!” He laughed and turned.
