“No,” I say firmly. “You didn’t destroy anything. You transformed it into something better. Trust me.”
His eyes meet mine, searching for certainty.
“I have plans, Victor. Contacts. Especially in the LGBTQ community.” I feel energy building as I speak—this is my domain, where networks and influence matter more than muscle. “For every butthurt bigot that pulls out, there’ll be four LGBTQ-supportive ones ready to run to the aid. Trust me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because the community rallies. When someone’s brave enough to stand up, people notice. And the LGBTQ sports community has been waiting for someone exactly like you—someone undeniably masculine, undeniably accomplished, undeniably a fighter.”
I see a flicker of hope in his eyes, the first since the photos leaked.
“Eclipse Records sponsors three major music festivals. I know ten fitness brands actively looking for LGBTQ representation. Julian’s family alone controls three investment groups that would back an inclusive gym over Dawson’s bigotry any day.”
Victor pulls me closer and kisses me, not desperate like before, but with something new. Trust.
“Work your magic then,” he says against my lips.
The moment Victor closes the door behind him, I dial Julian.
He picks up on the third ring. He’s at his apartment in the city; I can hear Elliot in the background, talking to someone on the kitchen end about the supplier they’ve been considering for the new club.
“Theo. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon after the hunt.”
I clear my throat. “We have a problem. I assume you’ve seen.”
“I’ve seen. Tell me what you need.”
“Frost Investments. Bridge financing for Victor’s gym. The bank is going to defer his expansion line, and the sponsors are bleeding faster than he knows. I need a number on the table by the end of today.”
The pause is exactly as long as I expected.
“Theo.”
“I know.”
“My father will ask me three questions. I need to know how to answer them,” he says, voice devoid of all emotion.
“Ask.”
The conversation goes quiet. I picture Elliot stepping outside to give Julian the room.
Julian’s voice settles into the register he uses when he’s negotiating, which is also the register he used to use with me at three in the morning, ten years ago, in a different kind of conversation. “First. How exposed is the gym? Not the rumor exposure. The number.”
“Thirty percent drop in revenue minimum, that’s what Ray ran. I haven’t seen the spreadsheet, but I trust Ray.”
“Second. Your relationship to him.”
I close my eyes. Open them. “Over a year. We’ve been in love since before he could say it.”
“Third. What are you willing to lose, Theo? Tell me the real answer, not the easy version.”
There’s a chair I sit down on at this point in the conversation. I don’t remember crossing the room to it.
“Eclipse,” I say. “The brand, the buildings, the subscriber list. All of it, if it comes to that. I’ll put it up as collateral.”
“All of it?” he confirms.
“All of it, Julian.”