by Clare London
He lurched up in bed, his head reeling, his eyes still half glued together with sleep. What was going on? The morning light streamed in through his bedroom curtains; he’d obviously forgotten to close them last night. What time was it? And what were the chances of both his landline and his mobile phone ringing at the same time as well as someone knocking furiously on his front door?
He scrambled out of bed and quickly pulled on his sweats and a T-shirt. His head felt two sizes too big and his mouth was so dry he couldn’t even feel his tongue. How much had he drunk last night?
Last night….
No. He wasn’t going to think about it, not just yet. He stumbled along the hallway to his front door and yanked it open. Titus filled the doorframe like a human shield. “Morning, Shakespeare,” he boomed.
Aidan winced. “You’re…. Do we have a rehearsal or something?”
Titus’s eyes narrowed. “No. I decided to call in on you because of the other night when you were so bloody miserable.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Bloody was.” Titus didn’t wait for another protest or an invitation to come in, and pushed past Aidan into the flat. “I’ll make us both coffee, though it looks like you need it most. Do you know all your phones are ringing?”
“Make yourself at home.” Aidan wished he had the energy to put more sarcasm in it. Oblivious to it anyway, Titus pottered into the kitchen and started gathering the stuff to make drinks. Aidan snatched up the home phone. “Hello?” he snapped.
“Whoa! Hi, bro. Did I wake you?”
Zeb. “Sorry. No, I’m up and about.” Aidan bit back a sigh. Was Zeb calling for a full postmortem of last night? Aidan wasn’t sure how robust he felt at the moment, but it was good to hear his twin’s voice. “Hang on… my mobile’s going as well.”
He grabbed for the other phone he’d apparently just slung on the couch, and peered at the incoming number. He didn’t recognize it as anyone he knew. The phone stopped buzzing and then beeped with a text. Aidan opened it, fully expecting it’d be someone trying to sell him insurance or investigate his nonexistent car accident.
This is Dom. We have to talk. Call me back ASAP. Dammit. Typing is crap. Meant to start with please. Please call.
“Bloody hell,” Aidan said.
“Ade? What’s up? What did I say?” came Zeb’s voice in his ear.
“No. It’s not you.” Aidan dropped onto the couch and ran his hand over his face. He’d shaved closely last night for the date and his morning stubble was only a light scrape on his palm. “How are things with you?”
“More to the point, how are things with you? How did the date go with H-G?”
“Oh, marvelous.” Aidan stressed the sarcasm more this time.
This is Dom. We have to talk.
Titus strode into the living room carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. He clunked Aidan’s down on the table beside the sofa, then settled himself in the armchair opposite. He gazed at Aidan with a curious and determined look. Apparently he was staying for a while.
Aidan sighed.
On the other end of the phone, Zeb gave a snort of frustration. “Ade, were there problems? Did they guess it wasn’t me?”
“No, that all went fine. I’m all set to hand over to you.”
“You’re all set… sorry?”
Aidan glanced over at Titus, who was still shamelessly eavesdropping. “I can’t go into details right now, but I assume you’ll take the… project… from here on in. It was just the one night, after all.”
There was a suspiciously worrying silence on the line.
Titus leaned forward and tapped Aidan’s coffee mug. “I put extra sugar in,” he said in one of his outrageously loud stage whispers. “Good for shock. Hangovers. One-night stands.” He gave an equally outrageous wink.
“First of all, tell me what happened on the date,” Zeb said in Aidan’s ear.
“I can’t.” Aidan glared at Titus as if that would make the actor finish his coffee and go. Titus just smiled back. For God’s sake…. Aidan covered the phone with his hand and spoke to Titus. “This is personal. Do you mind giving me some privacy?”
“No problem,” Titus said cheerfully. “I’ll go and rustle up some brunch for us.”
“What?” Brunch? Why didn’t Titus just go home? And Aidan didn’t think his stomach would appreciate food yet, but he decided it was easier just to go with the flow. At least it would get Titus out of the room.
As soon as Titus had left, whistling something Aidan thought was from Oklahoma!, Aidan turned back to the conversation he’d been dreading. “Zeb?” he hissed into the phone. “Tell me everything’s fine and my part’s over. Tell me you’ll contact him this morning.”
“Contact who?”
“For God’s sake! Dominic—H-G that is—is trying to get in touch with me. You. Whatever.” How did Dominic have Aidan’s number? They hadn’t exchanged contact details during the date. “You need to sort things out with his PA. Tanya, her name is.”
“I know.” Zeb’s voice was unusually submissive.
“How come someone’s calling my phone anyway?”
“I told them I had trouble with mine, so yours was an emergency number.”
“You haven’t got any trouble with your phone. Have you?”
“Well, no.” Zeb sounded evasive. “But I can’t take calls at the moment. They probably tried me but couldn’t get an answer on my number, so they called yours.”
Can’t take calls?
“Why can’t they just call Lukas at the agency? He arranged all this for you, didn’t he? He can sort it out.”
Lukas Stefanowicz was Zeb’s agent and mentor to both of them. He’d been a significant influence in their lives since their parents died. Fifteen years older than the twins, he was a friend of their mother’s and running a talent agency at the time. When Zeb dropped out of college to model, Aidan had asked Lukas to act for Zeb: to manage his blooming career and give him some stability. They both trusted Lukas implicitly.
“They wouldn’t have got through to Lukas either. And they wouldn’t have got any sense from that idiot twink who runs his desk when he’s away.”
“When he’s…? I didn’t know he was away.”
“Well, that’s the thing, Ade.” Now the evasiveness sounded even more strained. “That’s what it’s all about. I didn’t think you needed all the details. You worry too much as it is. Everything was going to be sorted out quickly and quietly, and things would be back to normal before anyone knew.”
“What what is all about? This is making my head hurt, Zeb. Bad enough I messed it all up last night.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. You’re a bright kid. I should know, right?”
Aidan smiled despite his confusion. His twin’s teasing was a familiar comfort. “It was going okay, but then we were ambushed by photographers and I panicked. I fled from the club like a scared rabbit, and I pushed Dominic off like Cinderella seeing midnight approaching at full speed.”
“You pushed him off?” Zeb sounded startled. “You mean he was all over you in the first place? And you let him?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
Zeb gave an unusually brittle laugh. “It’s okay, bro. It was all part of the scene. Like I said originally, you didn’t have to put out, but it’s fine if you want to pretend to have fun—”
“Stop it!” Aidan was surprised at the force of his protest. “Don’t try and make it sound like I—like I was playing a game.”
“You weren’t?”
Dominic’s mouth on mine, his hot breath on my neck, his strong hands stroking my thighs—“You know what I mean. The whole evening was a favor to you.”
Zeb’s voice grew softer. “What really happened between you and H-G?”
“Nothing. Why are you harassing me about it?” The misery made Aidan snappier than usual. “I just followed the script. You and Lukas set all this up, remember? I was to go out on a date, be seen with him, be all cozy with him.”
“No
t like that, exactly.”
“What, then?” Why was Zeb acting in this weird way? Apparently Zeb went out on arranged dates all the time, just for the publicity. He had no scruples where this was concerned. It was Aidan who acted like the blushing virgin, scurrying back under his stone when the spotlight caught him. “Oh forget it. It doesn’t matter. I couldn’t go through with it any longer, anyway. I’m bloody useless.”
“Ade.” Zeb’s voice was warm now with love and concern. “Of course you’re not. I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”
“Yes, it bloody well is.”
“Okay.” Zeb laughed, but it seemed halfhearted. “Was he a bully?”
“Dominic?” Aidan remembered the twinkle in Dominic’s eyes and hands that were confident rather than pushy. “Nothing like that. I accused him of trying to seduce me, I think.”
“In the middle of a club? Not that I haven’t tried it myself a few times.”
Aidan had to smile. Zeb’s frankness was refreshing and could almost always cheer him up. “I just embarrassed myself.”
Zeb’s breath hitched. “Wait just a moment. Did you want him to seduce you, Ade?”
“Don’t be stupid.” But Aidan recalled too vividly the excitement that had flowed through him as he perched almost on Dominic’s lap, with the lights dim and alcohol warm in his belly, kissing as if there was nothing more glorious to do until the lights went out on the planet itself. “But at least it’s all over now.”
“Well… back to that.” Zeb instantly sobered, Aidan could hear it in his voice. “The thing is, bro, I need you to keep on with the act.”
Chapter Fourteen
“WHAT?” Aidan didn’t know if the lurch in his chest was due to horror or—surely not—a weird kind of joy.
“Please. You have to. For just a bit longer.”
“Zeb, there’s no point discussing this anyway. Dominic Hartington-George won’t want to work with me again.”
“Um, but he does. His PA’s already been in contact with the agency. The idiot twink managed to take a coherent message from them. They want to make more plans, arrange another date with me. Well, with you.”
“No way!” What was going on? Aidan wondered if this was what real panic attacks felt like: as if he’d been launched out into space without enough air. “You have to take over now.”
“Can’t.”
“Can’t?” Even to him, it sounded like a squawk.
“I would if I could, Ade, honest. But I can’t get back there at the moment.”
“Back where?”
“Home. To your place. To Lukas’s studio. Any of the above. You have to cover for me.”
Aidan bit his lip. But I can’t! He let the silence run for several beats too long for any person’s comfort.
“Ade? Listen.” Zeb sounded very tense.
“I am listening.” But I’m not agreeing. How many times over the years had he agreed to anything Zeb asked, with or without explanation? Yet today, Aidan refused to buckle under. “Where are you, then?”
Another silence.
“What’s up, Zeb? You said there was something going on, that you hadn’t given me all the details. Are you in trouble?”
This time Zeb’s sigh was pained. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah. I mean, no, I’m not. Pointless trying to fool you, isn’t it?”
Aidan smiled a little sadly, even though Zeb couldn’t see him. “You’re the one who said I was a bright kid.” He wished suddenly—fiercely—that Zeb were there with him. They never had any trouble communicating when they were in sight of each other. And then realization hit him. “You’re away, you said. And so is Lukas? Tell me everything, Zeb.”
A sudden clatter in the kitchen and the smell of cooking bacon reminded Aidan that Titus was still in the flat. And the text message from Dominic was still on the screen, still unanswered. All of that had to be sorted out somehow, but for the moment, the priority was Zeb. And Lukas Stefanowicz too.
Lukas had been such a good friend and support to the twins. He was still a fit man in his early forties, but he’d suffered a mild stroke a few years ago and been told to take things easier at work. At the time, Zeb and Aidan had exchanged cynical looks; Lukas was wedded to his agency, thrived on stress, and was a notorious control freak. But the twins had later agreed that Zeb would keep an eye on Lukas’s well-being, whether Lukas liked it or not, and that Aidan would also help out if necessary.
“Is he okay? Oh Zeb, has he—?”
“God, no! He’s okay—he’s fine. Well, stressed as always, but that’s his default, as we both know.”
“Have you had a row? I know you don’t always get on at work.”
“No, no trouble there either. And he’s not unreasonable, Ade. He just pushes me to make sure I do my best.”
“Right.” Aidan didn’t remember Zeb’s stories in quite the same way, as Zeb had often called late at night ranting about the long hours and physical effort involved in working with Lukas and his crippling deadlines.
“The fact is he had a mild angina attack last month. He’s currently booked into a Swiss clinic for a couple of days’ rest and to get it all checked out.”
“He never said!”
“He didn’t want anyone to know, Ade. He still doesn’t.”
Aidan could see why. Lukas was a prominent, dynamic name on the fashion scene, and Aidan knew what a cutthroat business fashion could be. Lukas wouldn’t want his clients to know he was anything less than fully in control of the agency and its schedule. “But what’s that got to do with you?” Realization hit again. “Bloody hell!” He must be more tired than he imagined not to connect with Zeb quicker than this.
“Ade? Don’t rush to conclusions now—”
“You’re with him, aren’t you? In Switzerland.”
Zeb sighed again, but it was a sappy sound rather than one of frustration.
As if he’s blushing?
Aidan could barely remember how a blush looked on Zeb’s high, sharp cheekbones, and he hadn’t seen him embarrassed since their schooldays. “How long have you two had something going on?” Aidan felt a little hurt that Zeb hadn’t confided in him before now.
“It’s not going on at all.” Zeb sounded miserable. “Well, not like I want. I realized months ago how I felt. There was one night when we were late in the office together, and Jesus, he looked so good with his necktie loosened, leaning over my shoulder to look at some designer or other’s next season collection and smelling of that Italian cologne and good, old-fashioned sweat, and—oh fuck. Wish I could talk properly to you, bro. Wish we were there together, right?”
“Right,” Aidan said softly.
“I tried to broach the subject—to make him see we’d be good together. But Lukas always goes on about being in place of a parent for us, when the last fucking way I think of him is like a dad. We had parents, didn’t we, Ade? Real ones. That’s enough for me. Lukas has come to mean… well, much more than a substitute.”
“Oh, Zeb.” The pain in his twin’s voice was as clear to Aidan as if Zeb really was sitting next to him.
“Fuck. Sorry, bro. Anyway, I had to forget it all when he had the attack. He booked the clinic on his own, like he was trying to keep it from me, dammit, and when I found out, I had to bully him to take me with him, and…. Well, that’s how it all went. We were hoping to be back within a few days, and then I’d talk everything through with you.” Zeb cleared his throat. “He needs me with him, Ade, whether he’ll admit it or not.”
“Of course. But why did you ever accept the job with Dominic in the first place? Lukas could have put someone else on it.”
“I wish. But they asked for me specifically. If I’d refused to do it, they’d have contacted the agency to renegotiate and found Lukas unavailable. He’s never unavailable, is he? All hell would break loose if the press got hold of that nugget. So if I kept the date, or you did, we had a few days’ breathing space to get this trip over with, without anyone s
uspecting where Lukas is or why.”
It sounded convoluted to Aidan’s mind, but he supposed Lukas knew what he was doing. But what turmoil in Zeb’s life! Aidan wondered how serious Zeb was about Lukas. He’d never heard such emotion in his twin’s voice before, not about a man. And how did Lukas feel about Zeb? He’d always been a trusted friend to them both and was happily involved in their lives, especially Zeb’s. Aidan had always been content to stay in the background, recognizing the special relationship Lukas and Zeb had. But was that enough to build a romance?
“Ade? I’m sorry.” Zeb’s voice was truly anguished. “I’m sure it’ll just be one more date. Then I’ll be back.”
“It’s okay. Don’t rush, for Lukas’s sake. It’s just….” Aidan couldn’t seem to articulate the churning feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of continuing the pretense. Was it the lying that disturbed him? The feeling that he was cheating Dominic and his team, offering the man false company and something much less than he wanted? But on the other hand stood his loyalty to Zeb. “I’ll handle it. I’ll make it work.”
He closed the call after a promise from Zeb to let him know how Lukas’s checkup was going, then took a long, deep breath.
They want to make more plans, arrange another date with me.
Why the hell would they? The weird thing was that he felt excited rather than horrified. Why did he feel a thrill of anticipation at the thought of seeing Dominic again, even after their last disastrous meeting? Why had Aidan’s tangled, champagne-addled dreams been full of a beefy, bearded man with a firm but comforting grip and lips that tasted of red wine and lust?
Good God. I really do need to get out more.
But every time that thought occurred to him, Aidan had visions of striding across the hills with Dominic beside him, both of them pink-cheeked and breathing deeply—and laughing.
He picked up his phone and before he could lose his nerve, called up the number from Dominic’s text. It went straight to generic voice mail.
“You have sparkly gel stuff in your hair, kid.” Titus boomed in his ear, startling him out of his hazy, rather sensual thoughts. “Have you been out at some kind of a disco?” He thumped a dish of fragrantly steaming bacon and eggs in front of Aidan, with a side plate of hot buttered toast.
