The Right Words (5 page)

I
LEFT
earlier the next morning thinking I’d miss some of the traffic I’d hit the previous day. It was worse. Trevor and Brandon both tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen. It took me close to two hours to get to Michael’s and by the time I arrived I was a basket case.

“Coffee?” He opened the front door wearing a pair of hip-hugging, gray sweatpants and a white tank top. His hair was wet like he’d recently showered. He looked effortlessly sexy.

“I’m really sorry I’m late again. I’m out of practice with freeway driving, and I forgot how horrible it is through LA.”

“It sucks. Where are you from originally?” Michael swung his crutches in front of him and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

“LA,” I admitted.

Michael laughed out loud. “O-kay….”

“In my defense I grew up in the Valley, but I went to San Francisco for college and I haven’t actually lived in LA for ten years. Until now. So yeah, I’m trying to get the hang of the necessary hassle of having to drive everywhere.”

“Hmm.” He handed me a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, his dark eyes studying me carefully.

I felt intensely uncomfortable as I sipped the coffee in the quiet kitchen with my prospective client.

“So what’s on the itinerary? I usually have a contract drawn before I begin work, but I really had no idea how to verbalize my responsibilities. I’ll need a plan in place… of some sort. I don’t do well not knowing what’s expected.” I tried for casual but failed miserably. I sounded hyper and fidgety.

Michael stared at me for a long moment with a bemused expression on his handsome face before he took a seat at the table. He picked up a pen lying beside a notebook and began playing with the top.
Click. Click.
He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a loud banging at the front door. It sounded like someone was beating at the door with both fists.

“Do you want me to get that?” I offered, knowing I’d be faster than him in his current condition. Whoever was there was not stopping the obnoxious tattoo.

“Yeah. I’ll be right behind you.” His heavy brow furrowed as he shifted in his chair to reach for his crutches.

I hurried down the dark hall to open the front door. By the time my hand was on the knob I was pissed. Who the fuck was this? Whatever they were selling, I was not buying.

“Who are you?”

The man standing on the porch with a thunderous expression on his handsome face gave me a thorough once-over. Head to toe and back again. He drew his sunglasses down his straight nose theatrically, letting his bleached blond hair cover his eyes. I’d been around long enough to know I was being not only sized up but was about to be given an instant score by this arrogant queen wearing a collared shirt in a brightly colored print and crisp white jeans. I wanted to tell him he was two weeks out of style. It was time to put the whites away until after Memorial Day. However, I didn’t know him and this wasn’t my home. How did
Michael
know him?

“Who are y—”

I heard the scrape of crutches behind me, but that wasn’t what stopped
me.

“Jamie.” Michael said the name in a clipped, angry tone. I stepped aside and looked back and forth between them. Jamie? It couldn’t be. Jamie was a woman.

This Jamie was obviously not female, but he definitely looked the part of a thwarted ex. I wasn’t big on confrontations but I was definitely curious. What the fuck was going on here? What had I unwittingly walked into?

“Who’s he?” His voice dripped with distaste.

“My designer. The one you hired for me.”

Jamie gave me a look of utter disdain and pushed at my arm to get by me. “You’re fired. Thanks for coming by. I wasn’t myself. I don—”

Michael stepped in between us, setting his arm on the doorjamb, physically drawing a border. His body language was clear. I was on the inside and Jamie was locked out.

“No. Luke stays. He’s working for me now. You’re the one who’s fired. We’ve been through this, Jamie. It’s over. We’re done.”

Jamie sputtered angrily but adopted a syrupy tone when he addressed his ex. “Sweetheart, it was a misunderstanding. I expl—”

“I disagree,
sweetheart
. Not picking up the dry cleaning because you thought it was being delivered is a misunderstanding. Banging the real estate agent while I was away was not a misunderstanding, Jamie. It was just fucked.” Michael’s voice was infused with hostile sarcasm.

My eyes grew wide at the accusation. Damn. I looked over at Jamie and was shocked at the venom I saw directed at me. What the hell did I do? I was an innocent bystander!

“Send him away so I can explain—”

“He’s not going anywhere. I like him. Thank you for the referral but now it’s time for you to go. This is over, Jamie. We’re over.”

“Michael, please. Please don’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. Now go.” Michael’s authoritative, low tone had the desired effect. Jamie’s shoulders fell in defeat. He sighed deeply and brushed imaginary tears from the corner of his eye. When he faced us, he was a picture of repentant misery. Michael, however, remained unmoved.

“I can’t believe I trusted you.” Jamie shook his head sadly.

“What?” I was obviously the one being addressed, but why?

Michael laid a hand on my shoulder and pointed to the street. “Good-
bye.”

The standoff was a strange one for me. I’d been drawn into something I didn’t understand. It would have been easier to brush off the weirdness if it weren’t for the blatant bitterness directed at me. I felt like I was cast in a key role of a love triangle without the benefit of a script.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Jamie turned on his heels and made his way down the path leading to the driveway. I looked up at Michael, waiting for a clue or an explanation. He was stubbornly silent and still. When he heard the sound of a retreating car, he turned gracefully on his crutches and went back into the house. I waited a moment before I followed him. This was not what I signed up for. At all. If I were smart, I’d leave too. I’d find another job. Maybe it wouldn’t pay as well, but I needed sanity in my life. I already had way too much crazy.

Michael stopped abruptly when he noticed I wasn’t following. He quirked his head to the side and leaned heavily on the crutches.

“Come with me. Please.”

I bit my bottom lip. Warning signs should have been flashing. I should get the hell out. Instead I straightened away from the wall and gestured for him to lead the way. He passed the kitchen and turned to the living room, pushing open one of the sliding doors leading to the outside terrace. The day was clear and the view was exquisite. A perfect counterbalance to the mayhem and confusion we’d left on the front porch.

Michael didn’t sit right away. He stood near the short stone ledge and looked out to sea. I watched him carefully. My fingers brushed against the car keys in my pocket. A gentle reminder I could go at any time. I was curious about too many things, though. I pulled one of the chairs out to sit. It made an ugly screeching noise against the cement, but it caught Michael’s attention. He hobbled forward and took the seat next to me.

“Want to prop your leg up?”

“Yeah. Do you mind bringing another chair around?”

I did as he asked before reclaiming my seat. Seagulls playfully swooped down to feed on the shore below and waves crashed on the beach, but Michael remained silent. When I couldn’t take the prolonged quiet any longer, I faced him expectantly. There was no way he could think I’d work for him without knowing what the heck was going on with his vengeful ex. Who happened to be a man. I couldn’t believe Brandon was right. I
had
been guilty of stereotyping.

“So Jamie’s a guy.” It was the best lead-in I could manage. And it certainly had been a shock to me. I’d always assumed I was communicating with a woman.

Michael flashed me a chagrined half smile. He swiped an agitated hand through his longish hair and turned toward me. “Yeah. Luke….”

“I don’t underst—”

“I know. I… Jamie….” He licked his lips thoughtfully and set a pair of sunglasses tucked into his pocket on his nose. I did the same as I waited patiently for him to continue.

“I need to tell you a couple things. If you still want the job, it’s yours. If you decide not to take it, that’s fine. Either way I have to ask that you keep this conversation confidential. Strictly confidential.”

“Of course. I promise. I won’t say a word.”

“I trust you. I don’t know why, but I do.” He took a deep breath and looked back out to the endless blue ocean.

More silence.

“I’m gay.”

Obviously I’d figured out he was gay or at least bi when Jamie showed up. Was I shocked, gobsmacked, utterly astonished? Yep. However, admitting my absolute surprise probably wouldn’t make him feel like sharing any personal information, so I went for a neutral approach. Not quite “aren’t we all?” but something I hoped would invite further conversation.

“O-kay. That’s cool. Me too.”

He smiled again but it looked more like a grimace. “I’m not out.”

“At all?”

“Some people know. A few friends, a couple work associates, but on a larger scale… no. My family doesn’t know. My team doesn’t know, which means publicly I’m in the closet.”

“Oh.”

“I made a really big fucking mistake when I got involved with Jamie last year. Huge. I’m not sure how this is going to go down, but I’m in a difficult place.”

“How so?”

“You just met him. He’s the epitome of a crazy ex. He’s unpredictable, and even though I’m the one who literally got screwed over, he’s the one with the power to make my life very unpleasant.”

“You think he’ll out you?”

“Yes, I do. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually… yes, I think he’ll do exactly that.”

“Mind if I ask what happened? I know it’s not my business. It’s… this is weird for me. I thought Jamie was a woman. I thought you were engaged actually.”

“I remember you saying that.” He snorted lightly. “That would be a sure way to give my mother a heart attack.”

“Well, I thought you were straight. Of course, you could be engaged to another man too, but my head didn’t go there. I just… assumed.” I shrugged, not really knowing what else to say.

“Most people do. And it’s easiest to let them believe what they want.”

“True, but you perpetuate it by dating models too.” I raised my eyebrows when he gave me a blank stare.

“How would you know—”

“Oh please.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes for good measure. “I googled you. A girl’s got to do her research. Um, I mean a guy does… and I was curious to put a face to a name. For you and Jamie. I found oodles of photos of you… in uniform and in tuxedo with a different pretty blonde on your arm at every soiree. No wonder I figured you were straight! Who wouldn’t?”

“I play straight well, Luke. Fuck, I should have been an actor. No one generally catches on unless I give them a reason.”

“Oh, you mean unless you offer a direct invitation for sex?” My tone had more bite to it than normal.

I knew I was being a little reckless, but I had a problem with closet cases. Perhaps it was unfair. After all, I understood everyone had their own story and many weren’t fortunate to be born into a family or an area where it was safe to be yourself. I was one of the lucky ones. My mother was a little eccentric but she adored me unconditionally. However, a mother’s love isn’t enough to erase hate and ugliness. I’d been the victim of more than one school bully as a kid. Physically I’d been no match for anyone intent on making my life miserable. The worst part was being so damned surprised by their malice and hatred. I wasn’t given the opportunity to be witty or charming or even irritating before I was marked as unworthy. Until I met Brandon, my school days were frightful and challenging. I spent most of my time hiding in the library and losing myself in stories of faraway lands. It took me whole weekends to regroup and get ready for the agony of a Monday. Life got better as I got older. However, I still suffered feelings of inadequacy I attributed to earlier days. Perhaps that was normal for any grown adult, but the problem was I could never truly forget feeling lost, alone, and believing people who said I was a loser.

I sat staring at my new employer with my arms crossed and my lips pursed in challenge as though daring him to come up with a good reason he should get to hide while I had no chance.

“You look like you wanna kick my ass.” His generous mouth curved at one side, and though I couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark glasses, he was clearly amused.

“As if.” It was the best I could do. “As if” or “whatever.” A slightly more pleasant way to say “fuck off.”

Michael’s half-smile slowly morphed into a wide, radiant grin. I swallowed hard. God, he was beautiful.
Do not crush on your boss, Luke. Do not!

“Look, you assumed I was straight and you hadn’t met me….”

“True. But—”

“Let me finish. Hundreds, hell maybe thousands of people, think the same thing. I’m not a superstar in the United States because most people don’t follow my sport, but soccer is a big fucking deal to the rest of the world, Luke. I’ve played in front of packed stadiums, had my name cheered… and jeered by masses of people who don’t know the first thing about me. But the one thing they assume is I’m straight.”

“That is total and complete bullshit.” Oh well, employment was overrated. I couldn’t let this slide, however.

I stood abruptly and waltzed to the far end of the terrace and back again. Michael’s eyebrows were practically at his hairline. He didn’t look pissed, though. More like caught off-guard. I stood off to his left, mindful it might come off as crass to literally stand over him to give him a piece of my mind. I tried to keep my finger in check and not point at him while I lectured, but I was too wound up.

“They aren’t thinking about who you’re sleeping with. They’re watching you play!”

“Exactly. That’s the way I want it.”

“Are you for one second suggesting you are the only gay athlete… in the whole damn world? Need I remind you of some very courageous ones who have recently come out very publicly? I don’t know the first thing about any sport, but I did catch those headlines. Did they escape your notice? How can anyone be so—”