by DJ Jamison
Avery had also dragged Gil into this mess with his father.
“Let me help you,” Avery urged. “If you want a break from politics, I have business connections.”
“No offense, Avery, but I don’t want anymore Kinkaid favors to repay.”
Avery flinched back. He did feel offense, but he knew it was deserved. “I’d never ask you to repay anything.”
“You know what I mean.”
Avery sighed, running his hands through his hair. He hated this helplessness. He felt trapped and useless.
“What’s this idea you mentioned?” Gil prompted.
Avery grimaced. “It’s about those texts between us. I need to get rid of any trace of them. I need you to delete them from your cloud, and I want you to take your phone to a tech guy I know. Make sure they can’t be retrieved.”
Gil looked puzzled. “Sure, we can do that, but your dad already has the screen shots.”
“I know. It’s just a first step.” Avery shifted, feeling restless. He wanted this done, wanted all of it behind him.
“What’s the next step?” Gil asked.
“I get rid of those screenshots he has,” Avery said grimly.
“Avery, he could have backups of those in his email or saved in a folder somewhere. Alec could still have them too.”
Avery nodded. He’d considered all those possibilities. But he also knew his father. He wanted leverage on Avery, but he was also protective of his own name. He wouldn’t want that information coming out unless it served his interests. Even then, he’d prefer to keep this sort of thing under the radar. He had showed the evidence to Avery to keep him in line, and he might very well show Rory’s employers to make good on his threat, but Avery doubted he’d ever want to release it to the media.
Leaving that power in this Alec guy’s hands wouldn’t be his father’s modus operandi.
“If I can get to my father’s phone and email, I can get a little tech support in removing all signs of those screenshots. There’s still the risk of them existing somewhere else, but my father is arrogant. I don’t think he’ll take any extraordinary measures to protect them. I don’t think it’ll even enter his mind that anyone could ever get to him or his personal devices. But sleeping under his roof has to be good for something …”
“Avery, I don’t know. What if he catches you?”
“What if he does?” Avery said. “He can’t use it against Rory because if he did, he’d lose any leverage over me. I’ve got nothing to lose.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Avery chewed his lip, anxiety churning his gut more than he’d admit. He knew things could go wrong. But Avery would sleep better knowing his father didn’t have the means to hurt Rory right at his fingertips.
25
The night of the gala, Rory’s stomach was in knots with the low-key worry that Senator Kinkaid would somehow sabotage the event, despite Avery’s return home. That fear was the only thing that had kept Rory from calling Avery or trying to see him these past few weeks. He’d like to think that Avery was just paranoid about his father spying on him, but considering how Senator Kinkaid got the texts between Avery and Gil, it was all too likely.
Rory had tried calling Avery at the bank once—from his own office phone—but after getting put on hold indefinitely, he suspected Drake Kinkaid had put out some sort of building-wide memo to prevent him from getting through.
It was infuriating, being cut off from all contact. And seeing only what Avery was saying to news reporters was messing with his head. Rory was prepared to risk everything for Avery, but what if the reason Avery insisted on leaving wasn’t to protect Rory? What if he’d missed his old life? He’d traded in a mansion and expensive cars for a tiny, one-bedroom house. He’d had to give up any hope of a relationship with his father, and Rory knew—had seen with his own eyes—how desperately Avery had wanted things to work out with his dad. Because he loved him.
But he loved Rory too. He did. Rory had to believe that or he’d lose his mind.
Bliss Island looked beautiful at night, with lantern light posts all along the main road illuminating the path toward the house. The three-tier fountain out front was lit up, blue lights shining up through the sprays of water. Rory knew that for weddings, Caleb often lit up strings of fairy lights, but tonight, the resort displayed a more understated elegance, with beautiful, glass orbs hanging at intervals from the porch ceiling, lit from within with fairy lights to create golden balls of light.
The event was inside the ballroom, and it looked just as extravagant as the political gala Rory had attended a few months ago. It made him cringe a little, seeing the kind of wealth most of his clients at Equal Justice League would never know. But he knew it was a necessary evil. If he wanted people with wealth to help support the agency, he had to wine them and dine them. Kinkaid Foundation board chairwoman Belinda Carter had been quite clear on that point each time Rory expressed concern about the expense.
Each round table was draped in a black tablecloth, with gold place settings. The chairs were also covered in black, with gold sashes tried around them. And in the center of each table, a golden scale of justice rested on a bed of white rose petals.
“You ready for this?” Caleb asked, appearing as if by magic while Rory took in the room. A black curtain had been suspended on the back wall, creating a backdrop where Rory would give his speech about Equal Justice League and its importance to people who didn’t have the resources to represent their interest.
Rory had been known to get on a soapbox about the broken justice system and the imbalance of privilege in America, but he wouldn’t do that tonight. Tonight, he’d appeal the donors’ empathy with human interest, rather than politics. At its core, the Equal Justice League was about helping people in need, plain and simple.
The wife trying to escape a powerful, controlling husband. The single mother fighting to keep custody of her children. The queer couple who were trying to navigate the difficult, expensive path toward adoption. Discrimination in the workplace battles. The fight for equality, the fight to give everyone an equal voice.
Rory hoped he had a compassionate crowd tonight.
“It looks…intimidating,” Rory told Caleb with a wry smile.
Caleb grinned. “It looks like you won’t have to go panhandling tonight.”
Rory chuckled, remembering the last gala where he had felt a bit like a beggar. Tonight, he’d have a captive audience. Speaking of which, he needed to mingle.
“Good point,” Rory said. “I guess I should go behave like a host.”
“Yes, you should,” Caleb said. “The mic is set up at the back of the room. Just flip the switch on the side, and you’ll be good to go. We’ve already done sound tests. Dinner will be served exactly at eight, with dessert and coffee right afterward. I put your special guests at a table near where you’ll be speaking…”
Caleb gave him the rundown of the entire evening, start to finish, meticulously organized. Rory knew most of this already, but it was good to know they were on the same page. This was really happening.
Rory had designated a table for Equal Justice that included himself, the regional director of the agency’s Northeast chapters, Carol—also known as his boss—and her husband, and five of the Equal Justice clients he wanted here tonight. Some of them would give their personal stories, but he’d made it clear that they should only do that if they felt comfortable with it.
But the person Rory wanted to see—the one he wasn’t sure would show up—was Avery.
They’d worked together to make this event happen, and Avery was designated to be the foundation’s representative at the event, but after everything that happened ….
Rory’s thoughts spun out as the man in question stepped through the door. Avery’s hair glinted under the overhead lights. His face was smooth shaven. His eyes, when he met Rory’s gaze, were intensely blue. With a shock, Rory realized that Avery wore a touch of eyeliner. His lips sh
one, as well, with a light coating of gloss.
Avery going out in public like that was no small feat. He hadn’t entirely crammed himself into his father’s tidy box, had he? All of Rory’s doubts melted away as he gave Avery a thorough once-over, drinking in all the details.
Avery wore a black, custom-made tux patterned with delicate gold flowers and a gold vest and bowtie. It was perfectly fitting for the color scheme of their event and yet made Avery stand out from every other man in the room. There was nothing overtly feminine about it, but then Rory was beginning to realize that Avery’s desire wasn’t to look feminine—though he loved and appreciated Avery in lingerie—but to embrace the colors and fabrics that brought him to life.
The gold contrasted with his complexion, giving him a lovely glow. The man looked like a fashion model, or perhaps a Hollywood leading man about to accept his Oscar. Fuck knew Avery had done his share of acting, staying in the closet all those years and masking his true desires.
Rory realized, shamefully, that he’d expected Avery to retreat into the man he’d been before: closeted, molding himself to his father’s expectations. But he’d been wrong. Avery was strong. He wasn’t collapsing under his father’s influence; he was standing tall despite it.
Heart pounding, Rory’s feet carried him toward Avery before he could stop himself. Men in black tuxes and women in evening gowns representing all the colors of the rainbow flowed through the doors. The bar was open, waiters carried glasses of champagne among the throngs, and the schmoozing was in full swing. Rory would have to step up to that microphone soon, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the man who’d swept into his life and recaptured his heart.
“Avery, hello.”
Avery’s eyes lit with humor. “Hello,” he said solemnly.
“You look…” There was a flash of uncertainty in Avery’s eyes that made Rory hastily add, “Breathtaking.”
“Wow.” Avery laughed, ducking his head a little. “That’s quite a compliment.”
Suddenly the awkwardness of their separation gave way to urgency. “I didn’t know if you’d be here. Didn’t know when I’d see you again.”
“He’s not happy that I’m here, but I’d already committed on behalf of the Kinkaid Foundation.” Lowering his voice, Avery added, “We have to be careful.”
“Meet me later,” Rory said impulsively. He couldn’t let Avery go without touching him. The craving swept through him, and he had to clench his hands to resist the urge to reach out for him right there.
“Rory…”
“Please,” he murmured.
Avery glanced around the room, shooting a practiced smile and tipping his head to someone across the room. “Okay, but there’s a lot of people here close with my father. We have to be careful.”
Rory nodded. “One hour. Go through the front living area and there’s a back hallway that leads to Caleb and Julien’s suite.”
“I’ll be there.” Avery extended his hand for a formal handshake, and Rory forced himself not to cling to him. Taking a shaky breath, he drew back, but not before Avery murmured, “You look breathtaking too, you know. But you don’t need a tux for that.”
Avery took a shaky breath as Rory walked away, then headed toward the back of the room, where a small platform stage stood with a microphone stand in the center of it. It would be his job to go up there on behalf of the Kinkaid Foundation and introduce Rory. In front of all these people. While wearing makeup. What was I thinking?
His father hadn’t been thrilled that Avery was planning to keep this commitment. He suggested that someone else from the Kinkaid Foundation could make an appearance, but Avery had insisted. It was his name listed on the invitations. He’d put too damn much work into the event to skip it now. And he didn’t tell his father this—though he no doubt suspected the truth—but Avery desperately needed to see Rory.
Of course, he’d waited to apply the makeup until he was on the water taxi headed for Bliss Island. As scary as it was, it was also his small rebellion. He couldn’t walk out on his father, not yet, but he could stop wearing the mask his father wanted him in. Tonight, when seeing Rory again, he needed to be himself. He needed to show Rory that he wasn’t defeated.
His father might have him on a tight leash—monitoring his phone and email, even at work, and tracking his movements with GPS—but he couldn’t control Avery’s heart anymore. Avery no longer cared what his father thought of him. There was only one man who mattered to him. Well, two. Himself, and the man who’d helped him come to appreciate all the versions of himself, who’d loved him even when he’d struggled to love himself.
Rory. Just thinking his name made Avery’s stomach flutter and his heart clench. Would Rory forgive him for this separation and welcome him home one day? He hoped so. Because he couldn’t imagine his world without Rory. These few weeks had been purgatory; he didn’t even really feel like he was living. It made it both easier and harder to remain isolated by his father. There really wasn’t anyone he wanted to see besides the one man he couldn’t.
He couldn’t risk seeking out Rory and being caught. The stakes were too high, and his father’s temper too hot. But tonight, he couldn’t possibly resist. Not with Rory here, in the flesh, his eyes searing into Avery. But he’d have to be careful. His father had friends here, and no doubt he’d be asking for reports on Avery’s actions.
Caleb waved Avery toward the stage. It was time to get started.
Squaring his shoulders, Avery stepped forward and took the microphone.
“Good evening,” he said, after flicking the switch to turn it on. “I’m Avery Kinkaid, here as a representative of the Kinkaid Foundation. The Kinkaid Foundation is really my mother’s legacy, and we haven’t always lived up to her name, but I think if she were still here, she would be really proud to support a cause as worthy as the Equal Justice League.” His eyes flicked to Rory. “And I think she would have really liked Rory Fisher, one of the most inspirational men I’ve ever met. Rory is a guy who’s not afraid to step up and fight for what’s right, even when it isn’t easy. That’s an example I think we could all follow.” Avery had to pause and clear his tightening throat. He feared his love for Rory would transmit to the room in loud waves if he didn’t wrap it up. He flashed a practiced smile. “But Rory always says it better than I do, so let’s welcome him to the stage to tell us more about this fantastic organization we’re supporting tonight.”
As Rory came onto the small platform stage raised just a few inches from the floor, Avery shook his hand again, squeezing it once, before heading for a table.
“Thank you. I think Avery said it pretty well myself. My work here might be done. After all, I’m inspirational.” Rory tossed his head, gaining a few laughs, before resuming his speech. “As Avery told you, I’m Rory Fisher, director of the Equal Justice League…”
Avery took a seat, trembling. During his speech, he’d blocked out the fact that he was wearing lip gloss and eyeliner, that he was dressed in a somewhat flamboyant tux, at least by the measure of most of the men here. He’d been too focused on what he needed to say. Now that he was back at the table, though, a sense of surreal euphoria hit him.
He'd done it. He’d been himself in public—not just an openly gay man, but a gay man who wore lip gloss, who maybe looked a little too pretty to be the embodiment of the so-called masculine ideal, who didn’t fit the perfect political picture his father had created. Hell, he hadn’t just gone out in public. He’d stepped up onto a stage, spoken to a full room. There were likely to be photos circulating on social media after this event.
His heart raced as Rory spoke. He tried to focus on his words, but mostly he just sat, stunned at his own audacity, while he watched Rory’s pretty lips move. Rory looked vibrant up on the stage, alive with the passion of his convictions. This is why Avery went back to his father. This is why he couldn’t ask Rory to give up his job. It wasn’t just a paycheck to Rory, it was his way of making the world a better place.
The world needed
guys like Rory. Needed his passion and enthusiasm and dedication. Avery’s personal needs had to come second.
At least for now.
Despite his father’s hold on him, Avery knew he’d done the right thing for Rory, and he’d managed not to lose himself in the gamble. He felt pretty fucking powerful just then, knowing his father would soon be seeing photos of Avery. His father’s reaction no longer worried him. He welcomed it.
It was time Drake met his real son.
And his real son sparkled when the mood struck him.
And right now, Avery was feeling pretty fucking sparkly.
Rory felt a little guilty for slipping away at his own fundraiser, especially with such great engagement, but there was no way he was going to miss his chance to get Avery alone. He hadn’t been sure how well the fundraiser would do with a crowd full of the type of people who were so often on the opposing side of the court cases Equal Justice League aided, but they’d been amazingly receptive.
Carol was in her element, networking at a level Rory could never compete with—and wouldn’t want to. He hadn’t gotten into this work to schmooze and raise funds, but to help the people who needed it. People like his client who spoke tonight, Carry Washington, who’d lost custody of her daughter to an abusive man because he was wealthy and powerful, until Equal Justice League stepped in with a high-powered lawyer who could even the playing field.
Carol hadn’t been happy with Rory this week—not with the news he’d given her—but she was delighted with the checks that would be cut tonight. He’d set the Equal Justice League up for success, and perhaps launched a new fundraising path for them to follow in the future. He felt pretty damn good about that, but it had come at too high a price.
