Had he and Drew broken up? Was that what the painful goodbye they’d said the other night was all about? It sort of felt like it. But not entirely. They’d kissed before he left, which had to be a good sign. But the very fact that Drew would think he would or could throw him under the bus hurt.
Drew’s suspicions might have been a complete deal-breaker, if Lee hadn’t let himself be swayed by the suggestion that Drew was just using him for his own gains as well. No matter what his mum said, and maybe it was paradoxical, but the vehemence of Drew’s reaction to the idea that Lee might have sold him out was enough to clear up his own suspicions about whether Drew was just as shallow and image obsessed as Jessica. If he really didn’t want him, he wouldn’t have been so sideswiped by the idea that Lee would write a book about him.
None of those things helped at all to focus Lee as he sat down at his computer, intending to assess the damage to his career. The picture wasn’t pretty at all. Some contingent of Drew’s fans, or maybe Jessica’s fans, who knew, had gone on all the sales and review sites to give his books an avalanche of one-star reviews. None of the reviews themselves had anything to do with the stories or his ability, but that didn’t save them from the overall star-ratings going straight into the toilet.
At the same time, sales continued to be better than they’d ever been for him. People might be saying they hated him, but they were buying the books.
Not that it made him feel better at all.
Nothing would make him feel better until he could well and truly sort things with Drew.
He looked at his phone for what felt like the millionth time in an hour, hoping to see a new text from Drew. He’d sent a few in the last couple days, asking if Drew was okay and if there was anything he could do. Drew had replied with one or two words at a time, saying he was fine, but giving hardly any other information.
It wasn’t a complete break or a total blackout between them, but it was so far from what Lee wanted that he hardly knew what to do about anything.
He’d finally given up on checking book reviews and moved on to gingerly picking through the messy landscape of his social media when his phone rang. Desperate for any conversation with Drew at all, he snatched at it.
It wasn’t Drew calling him, though. It was Javier Rivera.
“Hi, Lee,” Javier began in a sympathetic voice when Lee answered the call. “Have I caught you at a good time?”
Lee blew out a breath. “I’m not sure there’s such a thing as a good time anymore,” he said, sinking into his computer chair and pushing a hand through his hair, which knocked his glasses askew.
“Yeah, I was afraid of that,” Javier said. “How are you holding up?”
“Oh, you know,” Lee gave his very British answer. He blinked and sat straighter as a few things came together in his mind. “I should be asking you the same question,” he said. “Rent-A-Boyfriend has gotten as much media attention in this whole debacle as either Drew or I have.”
“Hmm, about that,” Javier said. “You wouldn’t mind coming down to the office, would you? Desmond and I want to see how you are, but we feel like this calls for a face-to-face meeting instead of an impersonal phone call.”
Lee swallowed. It was that bad, was it? “Sure,” he said. “When do you want me to swing by?”
“As soon as you can, really,” Javier said. “We’ll make time for you.”
That sound ominous, for some reason. Lee had visions of their entire business sinking under because of the scandal.
“I’ll get down there as soon as I can,” he said. “Right now, in fact. I need something to get me out of the house and out of my head before I crack.”
“Then, yeah, come over right away,” Javier said, still sounding sympathetic, at least.
They said their goodbyes and ended the call. Lee hurried to take a shower, which he’d been lazy about doing when it felt like his entire world might be falling apart, and to put on clean clothes.
He hadn’t left his apartment for days, not since dragging himself home after his confrontation with Drew. He’d been too afraid that paparazzi and angry fans would be lining the square outside his home. Fortunately, no one was there, and he was able to make his way to the Tube without anyone jumping out of the bushes with a knife and misplaced threats against him for ruining Drew’s life or his image.
He didn’t know what he expected to see at Rent-A-Boyfriend’s office, but it certainly wasn’t the small crowd of men sitting in the waiting room, filling out old-fashioned paper applications. There were almost a dozen of them, and more men were waiting just outside the office, where additional seating had been set up.
“Mr. Cresswell,” Michael greeted him with a bright smile. “It’s so good to see you. Javier and Desmond are expecting you. I’ll just let them know you’re here.”
Lee didn’t have to say a word. Michael jumped right up and headed down the small corridor to the office at the back. As he popped his head in, Lee glanced around. A few of the menglanced up from their applications to look at him, some even smiling.
It was completely surreal.
“Lee, hello,” Javier said, stepping out into the hall as Michael headed back to the front desk. He gestured and said, “Come on in. Let’s talk.”
Lee didn’t know whether to feel impending doom or giddiness as he walked back to the office, then joined Javier and Desmond in the comfortably appointed space. Aside from a pair of desks at one end, the room also held a comfortable seating area with a sofa and two chairs, almost like a therapist’s office.
Both Javier and Desmond were on their feet, but after a few handshakes in greeting, Desmond gestured for Lee to have a seat on the sofa. “We’ve been worried about you,” he said, fixing Lee with a look of friendly concern. “The way the news has blown up can’t be comfortable for you.”
Lee hesitated before saying anything. Despite appearances, this wasn’t a therapist’s office, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to discuss his well of jumbled feelings with two men he hardly knew. He settled on saying, “It’s been a lot.”