New Lease of Life (13 page)

“Stop trying to prove a point. You don’t normally speak like that.”

Colby shrugged. “I try my hardest to keep it at bay, but sometimes it leeches through. You, on the other hand…. Say ‘bloody.’”

“Bloody.”

“Bloodhay,” Colby mimicked.

First date, do you think… always gay. Strike two more handsome lads off the list.
The dissection of his love life from the next table
distracted Pip so much that he missed most of what Colby said next.

“… accent turns me on. Just one more thing to add to the list.” Colby fiddled with his straw, drips escaping from the bottom to form a small puddle on the table. “So, you’re a recluse, and you don’t watch movies. What do you do all day?”

Obviously a rhetorical question because Pip didn’t get a chance to respond that he
did
watch movies. They were generally black-and-white, edgy noirs and screwball comedies where sex had a self-destructive bent or romance involved some form of big cat.

“I think we should rectify your hideous lack of popular movie culture. In fact, I’ll make that my mission as your friend.”

“I thought your mission was to make me smile more?” Pip asked without thought because his traitorous brain screamed “Movie night!” complete with popcorn and snuggling on the sofa. He’d never had that type of evening. It wasn’t the sort of date regularly undertaken with fuck buddies, and film evenings with his friends before “the incident” had often involved something Scandinavian, normally with subtitles.

“I’m doing quite well with that, I think,” Colby said, dropping his gaze to Pip’s mouth. Colby’s expression softened, his teasing grin morphing into something smaller and more intimate. “Education benefits everyone. Your smiles only benefit me. Unless you’re smiling at random strangers. Which I don’t mind but, just not like that, eh?”

Like what? Although now that Colby had pointed it out, Pip could feel the stretch of muscles in his cheeks and jaw. They stared at each other for a few long moments, Pip not willing to break eye contact. The women at the next table aww’ed loudly, intruding once again. Didn’t they realize Pip was having a moment here?

“So you liked the smoothie?” Colby asked with a twinkle in his eye. “That’s three of your five a day. Or it will be when you finish it.”

“I—” Pip mumbled and tugged the straw from his lips. He glanced at the glass, now half empty. “Damn, this was yours. I’m awful sorry.”

“Finish it. I’ll get another to go. I shouldn’t leave the shop shut for too long.”

The young woman who had served Colby at the counter made her way through the tables toward them. Surely she didn’t plan to clear the table already? Pip tightened his grip on the base of the glass and dragged it closer to him.

“Mr. Carrington?” she asked tentatively, as if uncertain of herself.

Colby glanced up at her with a smile. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but you left your debit card at the counter. It got caught up in the napkins.”

“Thanks. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t screwed on. Could I get another juice? Same as before. Two portions of orange, pomegranate, beetroot, wheat germ, and raspberries. To take away. My friend’s finished mine.”

Deep in thought, Pip frowned, barely noticing the list of fruits in the smoothie while his mind tried to drag the deep recesses of his memory. Carrington?

“Hey.” Colby’s gentle voice interrupted his thoughts. “I was only kidding about the smoothie. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Carrington?” Pip asked. “Colby Carrington?”

“Yeah. Embarrassing, isn’t it? I reckon Mum only married my stepdad for the name.”

That got Pip’s attention, dragging him out of his memories. His eyes widened.

“You should see your face.” Colby laughed. “I’m kidding. They’re still together. Twenty-odd years. But I still think the name drew her in. Her favorite show back in the day,
Dynasty
was.” Colby shook his head. “It was bad enough for me, but my poor sister became Crystal Carrington overnight. No wonder she changed her name to Cris by Deed Poll as soon as she was old enough. I stuck with mine, but if I had a pound for all the times I’d been asked if I was hyphenated, I’d be a millionaire.”

“You are.”

“Hyphenated? Nah. Why would I ask you to call me by my surname? That’s just weird.”

Pip lowered his voice. “You
are
a millionaire. Colby Carrington. Of Kickstart Life fame.”

“Oh!” Colby blushed, looking away, over toward the juice bar cooler cabinet. He mumbled, “I wasn’t famous.”

“Your product was. You would have been, too, if the production company had let me use you in the ad campaign like I wanted to. You never even came to any of the marketing sessions.”

“The production company didn’t want me involved. I’m surprised they even submitted my photo to you. Apparently I wasn’t ripped enough to be a fitness instructor and was too plain-looking to sell copies.”

“Bollocks! You’re rugged and handsome.”

Colby’s gaze shot back over to Pip, and a shy smile formed on his lips, far more tentative than any Pip had seen from him so far. “Really? You think?”

“Hell, yes. I’ve already told you I would have fought your corner. But the production company put the kibosh on using you so quickly I wondered why they included the photograph at all.”

Colby stood as the server hurried over with his smoothie. He handed her a fiver and waved away the change. “Let’s walk and talk. I need to get back to the shop.”

Colby held the door open for Pip, waiting until they had started walking away from the juice bar before continuing with the conversation. “My photo? By mistake, probably. Maybe the client who recommended them to me insisted. I always did get the impression he fancied me. Either that or he had a very weak bladder because he was constantly running to the toilet during our sessions. Or as fast as you could move around a raging hard-on.”

“Awkward.”

“You don’t know the half of it. I had to stop being his trainer after I found out he’d been taking Viagra before I arrived. Just in case one day I succumbed to his advances and he got lucky. His words, not mine. I liked the old guy, but he was going to end up having a heart attack, so I put a stop to it.”

“Old?”

“In his late sixties. I’d been warned by several other clients before I took him on, but I didn’t believe them. He played such a ladies’ man on telly that I would never have believed he was really a raging queen behind closed doors.”

“Weren’t you tempted?”

“He was nearly old enough to be my grandfather. And I was a fitness instructor, not a gigolo.”

Uncharacteristic anger tightened Colby’s features and chopped at his words. Pip had obviously touched a nerve. How many times had Colby had to spurn unwanted advances from clients who thought Colby’s body was theirs for the taking? Or deflected jokes and assumptions of the same whenever anybody asked what he did for a living?

Pip felt the urge to apologize, not just for his question but for all the people who had attempted to take advantage during those years. He didn’t get the chance.

“I’ve never slept with a client.”

Lie.
Pip didn’t know how he could tell, but there was just something about the cast of Colby’s gaze, the slump of his shoulders, and the sudden drag of his steps.

Concentrating on navigating an uneven stretch of paving with the help of his walking stick, Pip didn’t realize Colby had stopped until he noticed the silence. He turned back to locate his friend—acquaintance—no,
friend
.

Standing stock-still, Colby stared openmouthed after him.

“What?” Pip snapped as the turn jarred his ankle, and the familiar anger returned. It faded as quickly as it had flared with one look at Colby’s expression. “Oh, did I say that out loud? Sorry, but you did lie just then, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Colby let the word out on a long breath and jogged over. “I did. Lie. And sleep with a client. Just the one. He was a film star that I’d had a crush on since I was a teenager, but he wasn’t that much older than me. I was only his trainer while he was over here filming at Pinewood. I was young, fresh out of uni, and just starting out in the celebrity world, and I guess I was thrilled at the attention from such a stunning man.”

Colby jammed his free hand in his pocket, and tightened his grip on the takeaway cup until Pip worried it would split and spill the contents on the ground.

“I didn’t realize just how far in the closet he was. He’d even go as far as to blank me if there was anyone else in the house. Yet, he only ever trained for half an hour of his two hour sessions when we were alone.”

“He’d found other ways of working up a sweat that he enjoyed more?”

“Yeah.” Colby kicked at a loose stone and sent it skittering along the pavement.

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Well he had; nobody should be in a relationship where they were treated like they didn’t exist, however fleeting the connection. He couldn’t imagine Colby ever treating anyone in such a manner. A red-hot lick of anger washed over Pip, unfamiliar in the lack of self-loathing shoring it up. Pip gripped the handle of his stick, bleaching his knuckles white at the thought of someone treating Colby so badly that Pip could still feel the repercussions years later. “I’m sorry, because I didn’t mean to force you into a confession. It’s just… I’ve never heard you lie before, and it was so obvious my brain just called you on it. What happened? If you don’t mind talking about it?”

“Nah. Ancient history. His publicist caught me coming out of the shower one day after a….” Colby paused and glanced away. “A session. He didn’t believe my lies any more than you just did. I don’t have the face for it, apparently. I got paid handsomely for my silence. Made me feel skeevy.” Colby sucked aggressively on his straw, as if the cleansing juice could wash away the stain of his past. “I avoided closeted boys and sexually aggressive clients like the plague after that.”

“Yet you continued to train with the old queen?”

Colby’s features softened. “He wasn’t overly grabby, certainly wasn’t aggressive with it. Almost apologetic, really. He liked to stroke my bicep if I stood close enough. Occasionally, he opened the door in nothing but a loosely tied dressing gown. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I felt sorry for him more than anything. Nobody special turned up for his funeral. Just some has-been actors he’d worked with back in his heyday who saw an opportunity to get back on the telly, if only in thirty-second sound bites. Sad.”

“And the celebrity crush?”

“Never seen him since. I don’t keep up with the celebrity gossip these days, but as far as I know, he’s on his third marriage—to a woman—and he’s got a thickening waist, more alimony payments than you and I could imagine, and a waning career. I doubt he’ll ever be happy way back there behind the winter coats, old shoes, and Christmas wrapping paper.”

Before Pip could comment about the health advantages of being out and proud, Colby glanced across the road.

“Looks like one of my regulars at the bus stop. I wonder if she’s waiting for me to come back.” Colby smiled, looking much more like his old self. “Let’s open up.”

Following Colby’s gaze, Pip noticed a tall woman leaning against the wall behind the bus stop. Her slim body and close-cropped hair gave her an androgynous look that was only heightened by the man’s suit that she wore with considerable ease. Had she been several inches shorter, she would have been the perfect candidate for Pip’s discarded treasures, but even from this distance, Pip could see she would tower over him. A frilly blouse—or it could have been a seventies tux shirt—burst in ruffles of creamy white fabric from the V of the buttoned up and overly large waistcoat, softening the harsh lines of the suit and her angular body.

“Come on. Get inside.” Colby ushered Pip through the door.

“Shouldn’t I go?” Pip hadn’t intended that to be a question.

“Not unless you have somewhere you’d rather be.” Colby tugged the makeshift sign—advising customers the shop would be shut for fifteen minutes—from the door and screwed it up into a ball. Then he flipped over the closed sign and held the door open as the woman headed toward the shop with confident strides.

“Afternoon.”

Colby greeted her with his trademark smile, and Pip felt a twinge of jealously that he had to share Colby’s sunshine with anyone else who walked through those doors. Hell, probably with everybody that Colby ever came into contact with.

“I’ll give you a moment to browse, Anita. I have a small problem to deal with.”

Pip startled when Colby swung around, his eyebrows drawn into a thick line that accentuated his frown.

“You. Sit.” Colby pointed at Pip and then indicated an overly stuffed, comfy-looking chair behind the counter.

Folding his arms across his chest, Colby made his biceps appear even more formidable than usual. Pip was certain the move was supposed to be intimidating or, at the very least, disapproving, but it was hard to feel reprimanded when one’s first reaction was to worry whether drool dripped from your chin and ponder the best way to “accidentally” face-plant against the large bulging muscles. Maybe lick it if he could get close enough to one. As if realizing it was being scrutinized, the muscle in Colby’s arm jumped.

The twitch of Colby’s lips and spark of amusement in his gaze negated the stern expression and barked orders. The fine lines around his eyes deepened, and a dimple appeared in his left cheek.

Did Colby have a matching dimple on his other cheek? And Pip didn’t mean the one on his face. Colby’s words to the customer finally filtered through Pip’s contemplation of the man in question’s arse.

“
Small
problem?” Pip protested, annoyed with the way his voice hitched in tone. “Did you mean me?”

“So easy,” Colby said with a grin. “But seriously, take a pew. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you jarred your ankle when I stopped suddenly. Is it painful?”

“It’s fine.”

Colby glared. As much as eyes that shot laser beams made of rainbows could glare. “Now who’s lying. Take a weight off while I see to Anita.”

Pip did as he was told, marveling how easily he followed Colby’s suggestions. Eat me. Drink me. Try my juice. Sit. Suck. Bend over.