Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2) (24 page)

“Mr. Ryan will be taking questions for ten minutes following the film and then we’ll break briefly. Please enjoy.”

There was another round of applause, and then the lights went dark and the screen on the stage lit up. A blurry red circle appeared, taking up almost the entire expanse, and then slowly the camera pulled back. As the object came into focus, it became obvious that it wasn’t actually an object at all. It was a young girl, with flaming red hair that covered her crouched form like a shroud as she gazed down at a group of boys roughhousing on a beach from her perch high above. Her expression was wistful, and when one of the boys looked up, she jerked back, out of view. Again and again, the same action shown throughout the years, the girl growing into a young woman, the boy into a young man, but no words exchanged, no interaction other than the brief acknowledgment of the other.

But there was a tenderness there, and it was that same young boy who grew into a man that turned the tide after several years, finally approaching her from behind.
 

The story wasn’t overcomplicated. It was a simple love, theirs, as undeniable and natural as an ocean breeze, but it was what he’d achieved visually that was the focus. You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen for a moment. He pulled you in with close-ups, panned out to visually stunning landscapes, the colors and textures so rich and vibrant it was like you were there. The soundtrack rose and fell, perfectly matching the emotion of the actors. I almost didn’t recognize Ace as her overprotective father, his performance so gentle, such a light touch, but one that tugged the heartstrings. The film was everything that encompassed Nate—a beautiful, artistic soul with love at its core.

When the screen went black and the lights came back up, the audience was up on their feet, a roar of applause echoing around the room, and as I stood up, tears stung my eyes. I was overwhelmed by what I’d just seen, my heart full, and just proud. So unbelievably, terribly proud. My eyes sought out Nate, and when they landed on his from where he now stood behind the podium, my heart thundered in my chest. I’d felt his gaze on me during the film, but I hadn’t dared turn his way, hadn’t wanted to see a look on his face like the one I saw now.
 

“Thank you,” he said, when his eyes moved over the crowd. He swallowed hard and then tried for a smile, but there was no light behind his eyes. “I appreciate you all coming out tonight, and I’m honored to stand before you to present my final work here at USC. It’s been an extraordinary experience, and I’m excited to move on to the next step in this journey. I’ll take any questions you may have now.”

Several hands went up, and Monica handed a microphone to an audience member.
 

“Congratulations on a beautiful piece of work. I was wondering what the inspiration for your project was?”

Nate was silent for a long moment, his eyes downcast. Then he stroked his jaw and said, “Love.”

The woman waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she asked, “Could you expand on that a bit?”

“I suppose the inspiration came from a personal experience. When two people can come together it’s always a sort of miracle, whether they’re from different backgrounds, have different beliefs, and with all the challenges they face both individually and together. Love doesn’t discriminate, it just…happens. I wanted to showcase that, without distractions, without unnecessary conflict.” His eyes went to mine before quickly moving away. “Just something pure and untainted. Strong.”

Pure. Untainted. Strong.
I stopped breathing.

An older gentleman stood up, taking the microphone. “The film was both stirring emotionally and stunning visually. What message were you hoping the audience would come away with?”

“Well, if I’ve done my job right, you leave feeling…” He paused and wiped the sweat from his brow. I was close enough to see the slight shaking of his hand, which he then ran through his hair. “…hopeful.”

When the man nodded and passed the microphone to the next person, Nate shook his head.
 

“I’m sorry, that’s all the questions I’ll be answering this evening,” he said, before unclipping his microphone and setting it on the podium. His legs took long strides up the aisle, and as he left the auditorium, I jumped up after him.
 

It didn’t matter that I was there with Ace. It didn’t matter that I would probably break my ankles running in heels. And it didn’t matter who saw me do it. His words had been a stake in the heart, and there was no way to stanch the bleeding, not without him.
 

He was halfway across the foyer when I called out for him, but he didn’t turn around. His hands were at his throat, undoing his tie and then ripping it off as he stalked for the front door.
 

“Nate… Nate, stop, please.”

He jerked around so fast, I almost lost my balance. He pointed at me, his jaw clamped tight, and the muscles in his neck corded. “Don’t.” Then Nate’s eyes shot over my shoulder as Ace came up behind me.
 

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between us.
 

“Not a thing,” Nate answered, the skin around his eyes bunching as his pained stare seared my skin. “Not a damn fucking thing.”

Then he pushed out of the door, leaving it to slam shut behind him, and when I wobbled on my feet, Ace gripped my arms to steady me.
 

“What the hell was that?” Ace’s tone had gone from concerned to authoritative, and when I began to sob, he quickly ushered us out to the car. He let me cry without any more questions, and not even rubbing my arms stopped the shivering, nor did it soothe as my mind went wild with random thoughts. Would I ever see Nate again? Would I get a chance to apologize? Had his parents been there? But of course they had. I hadn’t met them yet, but they knew who I was, and now they’d been privy to the embarrassment and hurt I’d caused their son.
Great. Just…

Ace’s voice was low when he finally spoke. “You’re involved with him.” Not a question.

I nodded.
 

“And he didn’t know about me.” Another non-question.

My eyes lifted to his, and he sighed, rubbing his hands on his slacks.
 

“Why do I feel like somehow this is my fault?” he said quietly.

“No. It’s mine.” I turned to face him and then asked, “How did… I mean, how did you—”

“Become involved?” He rubbed his hand over his buzzcut. “I’d stopped by his class one day a few weeks ago while visiting with my old professors. You and I had talked about starting small, and getting back to the root of things. They told me about this student of theirs, one with an incredible gift for storytelling, and that he still needed someone to fill a pivotal role in his project. I took a look at some of his other work and approached him about helping out. I just thought…” He sighed again. “I just thought it would’ve been cool if someone had done that for me when I was in school. We all start somewhere, and hell, the kid’s talented, so you never know where he’ll end up or how high he’ll go. And, you know, I thought he looked familiar, but I didn’t piece it together until now. But he was in Las Vegas that night I met you, wasn’t he? The guy that was staring at you?”

“Yes.”

“So he knew who I was. To you, I mean.”

“He knew I’d met with you that night, but he didn’t know why. He assumed we were friends.”

“You care to explain the rest?”

Not really.
I wanted to melt into the seat, but I owed him an explanation.
 

“I met Nate shortly before meeting you. Kept running into him, and he was so persistent…” I said. “And then, somehow, that story about you in the paper happened, and…I was sort of thrown out without a net, without any idea what I was supposed to do or if it was my fault, and when I saw you that day at your house, you were so miserable and lost…I just reacted. I didn’t think about the consequences.”
 

“So by helping me, it’s fucked whatever you have going on with this guy.”

“No, that was my choice.”

“Yours? Or Roger’s? Martina’s idea, maybe? What about your boss, Val? Did you really have a choice, or were you forced into it, Shayne?”

“I still would’ve helped you.”

He sat there quietly, a storm brewing behind his dark eyes. There was a grim twist to his mouth, and when he spoke again, his voice was rough as sandpaper. “Do you love him?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Fuck, Shayne,” he said under his breath. “Just fuck.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

New Dawn Breaking

I’D BYPASSED THE first three stages of grief and gone straight to the fourth stage—depression. Or maybe I was still a mix of all of them—the denial that the relationship with Nate was over, anger at myself over the whole damn thing, bargaining…okay, well, I hadn’t bothered with the bargaining stage. There was no way I’d ask him to take me back after the embarrassment and hurt I’d caused, even if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to. I’d hit the fourth stage of grief and accepted my depression.
 

It was two days after what I was referring to as the Oh Shit Event, and thank God it was a Sunday and I didn’t have to leave the house for work until tomorrow. I’d finally showered last night after the girls had come by and pushed me into the bathroom. Standing under the hot spray and letting it wash away my tears until the water turned cold hadn’t eased the tight fist clenched around my heart and stomach, but at least I was cried out for the moment.
 

Had I really been so stupid? It had been like tempting fate the whole time, just waiting for the ball to drop. I’d thought I’d been doing a good thing helping Ace, but to the detriment of not only myself, but my relationship with Nate.
 

My
Nate. The most amazing human on the planet, who didn’t deserve what he’d seen two nights ago. Just his name had me wanting to shrivel up and die, and that was before I let myself remember the way he’d looked at me with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen.

Did he hate me? Rue the day I was born? I could deal with that more than I could deal with the hurt. It was too much to hope that he’d gone through the stages of grief and come out fine on the other side. I hated the expression FML, but it was true at the moment—fuck my life.

Because there I was, yet again. The destined-to-be-single matchmaker. I kept doing it to myself, always with good intentions but shitty follow-through.

My cell phone’s blaring ringtone pushed me out of my thoughts, and I fumbled for it on the nightstand, knocking over my alarm clock in the process.
 

Not Nate. Not one of the girls. Not Val,
thank God.
It was Ace, and shit if I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him. But I answered anyway, my voice coming out like rough gravel. “Ace, now’s not a good time—”

“Turn on channel four,” Martina said before the line went dead.

What? And why is Martina calling on Ace’s phone?

I hit redial, but when no one answered, curiosity hit. Dragging myself off the bed, I shuffled into the living room, picked the discarded bikini top off the remote, and flicked on the TV.
Dirty-ass roommates
, I thought, kicking their flip-flops under the coffee table.
 

When I stopped on channel four, the camera zoomed in on Ace as he walked up to a podium on a small stage, buttoning a sharp blue suit that showcased how large his frame really was. Unlike the last time I’d seen him, his expression was calm and resolute, and he nodded at the crowd of what looked like press before he spoke, his voice strong and clear.

“Thank you all for coming given the late notice. There have been quite a few stories going around in the press lately, and although I don’t usually address issues concerning my personal life, and don’t plan to do so again in the future, I would like to clarify something with you all today.

“It was never my intent to have this conversation, not today or any day. My private life is just that—private. But in the process of protecting my privacy, others were harmed to the detriment of their own lives. So this is me clearing the air.” He paused and looked down at the podium, as if gathering his thoughts. Then his head lifted, his expression determined, eyes blazing.

“The truth is…a story came out about me a few months ago, and while most of what you read in the press is usually false, this one happened to stumble upon the truth. I did indeed meet with a matchmaking company, and it was for two reasons. The first being I was looking for someone for myself, and it’s been difficult in my position to do so, regardless of what you’ve seen of me in magazines. The second was to find someone who would serve as a significant other to the public. Meaning someone who would act as my girlfriend for you all and anywhere there might be paparazzi lurking. Now, you may be asking why I’d need a separate public and private partner. And the reason for that is because I’ve been living a lie.”

Murmurs from the crowd rose, and Ace lifted his hand to silence them.
 

“I’m well aware of what my coming out to you all today might mean.” The murmurs grew to a roar, and Ace had to put up his hand again. “Yes, you heard that right. Telling you I’m a gay man might mean I lose the career I’ve worked so hard for. But as much as I hope that’s not the case, I can no longer live with myself if I can’t be open about who I am. There are many out there who struggle in the same way I do. With what their friends might think, with what their family tells them is wrong in God’s eyes or in theirs.
 

“But I’m here to tell you there’s nothing wrong with us. I’m not any less of a human being, of an actor, of a brother, son, lover, or friend, and neither are you. If who I choose to love weighs on your decision to see my films, if it somehow diminishes me in your eyes, then that’s your decision, and there’s not one thing I can do about it. I hope that’s not the case, though. That I even have to make an announcement in this day and age is unfortunate, but the reality is, I’ve lied for too long, and I’ve involved others now. There’s one person in particular who has gone above and beyond for me, and it cost her the person she loves. That’s my fault. And right now, I’d like to personally offer them both an apology.” Ace looked directly into the camera, his eyes penetrating straight through as if he were across from me and there was no one else in the room. “Shayne, I’m so sorry, and I’ll do anything I can to make things right for you both. You came to my aid when I was at my lowest point, and because you’re a selfless, generous human being and I was desperate, I let you. But that stops now. I owe you so much, so if and when you decide to start your own company, I’d like to not only invest, but I’d be honored to be your first client.”