Rutledge (Mayfair Model Series Book 3) Read online

  “What? It’s fun and relieves stress. Like you say, I am a workaholic, as if I have time for anything else even if I wanted. Plus, how’s Evan doing?”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  I knew perfectly well that Evan had departed the scene. I cowered when it looked like she was coming over to slap me. “Look, okay fine. I need to go to the hotel and get my charger, so we’ll make it a fun trip to the city tomorrow. Me, not working. Deal?”

  “Yes, and while we’re there, you’ll come with me to get my new tattoo,” she said and walked towards her bedroom.

  “Argh,” I yelled at her back. Then I turned on the music I’d be using for my solo performance in our next show. It was a ten-night run in the West End. Closing my eyes, I envisioned my movements, where I would position myself on the stage and how many beats I’d need for the more intricate steps.

  7

  RUTLEDGE

  I woke in a strange room. It took me a moment of looking around to realize I was back at Marshall and Stuart’s. Rolling over towards the nightstand, I picked up my phone and saw it was three a.m., so I decided to phone my best friend, Colby, back home.

  “Dude, get in touch with your dad. Do you know how often he’s asked me if I’d heard from you? Now I can’t lie because I have heard from you.”

  “Nice to talk to you too,” I said and laughed.

  “Wait. What’s wrong?” he asked, as if he had a sixth sense.

  “Um, what?” I didn’t want to worry him, especially since I was across the ocean. “It’s all good.” Even I could hear the telltale wobble in my voice.

  Beeping went off in my ear, and when I pulled it away from me, I could see Colby’s request for FaceTime. I hit Accept. “Hey.”

  His face greeted me on the screen. As soon as I saw his quirky grin and sincere expression, I knew I couldn’t keep it from him.

  “Uh, I was walking home the other night and some guys jumped me and started kicking me—”

  He cut me off. “Oh shit. Come home now. Maybe your dad was right, hating that you left.”

  “Okay, dude, take a chill pill. My dad is never right—about me anyway, as you know. And I’m okay. A passerby found me and helped me. Then he got me cleaned up and safe. It was pretty horrible, although I really don’t remember all that much.” I let out a loud sigh. “Honestly, I’d prefer not to talk about it. So, how’re things with you?”

  Seemingly able to read my mind, he asked, “Is that why you’re awake at three a.m. then?”

  “I’m staying with friends, and it’s just a strange environment. Maybe that’s what woke me up, but mainly it’s because I keep thinking how thankful I am that the man helped me.”

  “Okay, that’s okay then. But if you need to talk, I’m always here. Things are good here. The store is busy. I’ve been thinking of hiring someone else too.”

  “That’s good. You need someone so you can get more time off.” It felt good to chat like normal again. I wasn’t homesick or anything, but Colby settled me.

  “Says he who’s modelling and travelling all the time.” He laughed quietly, letting me know he didn’t really mean anything by it.

  “True. True.” A yawn escaped before I could stop it.

  “You know it’s always awesome talking with you, but maybe you should get some more sleep now. Looks like you could use it.”

  “Rude, but okay. Good night, Colby.” Another yawn escaped, and I rolled over and fell asleep quite quickly.

  Voices carried towards me along with something that smelled delicious. My stomach growled of its own accord, so I got up and made my way out to the kitchen. My hair was probably sticking up on end, and I’m sure my shirt was on back to front, but … oh well.

  Stuart came over and put his arms on mine. “Come. Eat something. I made my world-famous pancakes.”

  I pinky waved at Jamieson, then he spoke, “Yes, Stuart is the best cook.”

  I let out a chuckle. “Is Carter okay with that?”

  Jamieson’s head whipped around like a comedy act. “He’s not here, is he?”

  I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out. It felt so good to laugh.

  Marshall patted my shoulder. “You’ll do just fine here.”

  My stomach gurgled as if on cue when Stuart brought the pancakes over and placed them in front of me. “Thanks. Uh, I haven’t eaten much lately.” I put my head down and dug in. “These are so delicious. I agree with Jamieson.”

  He only greeted me with a slight smile, then it turned into a full one. He was looking through Heat or Hello! or some magazine like that. I wasn’t paying too much attention until he flipped to another page, then I jumped up just as he was turning to the next. “Wait,” I exclaimed probably too loudly.

  Jamieson looked up but didn’t question me. “Sure, sure. It’s a story on Jasper Abbott. Jasper Abbott is the lead singer of the band Whispers of Darkness. He looked more closely and read, ‘Jasper rose to fame when he was discovered—’”

  “No wait.” I looked to Marshall. “This is him. I need to talk to him,” I said quietly.

  Marshall was leaning on the island and drinking his coffee but put it down and came over. “Really? Are you sure?”

  The look on my face must have shown that I meant business. “Yes, it is.” I didn’t attempt to explain that while it had been a quiet interaction, I’d cataloged his features: the slope of his nose, the shape of his eyes, his lips. His hair looked slightly shorter, but everything else? It was definitely him.

  I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else as I stood there staring at the magazine. Jamieson and Marshall murmured something from behind me. Stuart was in my peripheral vision but not pushy. I didn’t know why this was so important to me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I needed to find him.

  As if reading my mind, Jamieson came over. “Ah, Rutledge, there’s this showbiz party this weekend. Do you want to come with Carter and me? Maybe … no guarantees”—he raised his hands—“but maybe you can get a quick chat with him.”

  “Thanks, thanks, man. You guys are great.”

  Jamieson was smiling as he joked. “So, that’s a yes?”

  “Yes, for sure. Okay, um”—suddenly I felt shy again—“I’m gonna go use the shower. Thanks, everyone. Thank you.”

  Under the stream of the hot water, I let out a deep breath. I hoped Marshall knew how grateful I was to him. To all of them. I could tell they were all good guys.

  Lathering soap in my hair, I realized I could talk to Marshall—open up to him and show him my trust. That I thought of him as a friend. It would be difficult but worthwhile. I quickly got out of the shower, then and dried off and got dressed.

  When I went into the living room, Marshall was there on his own, looking at something on his laptop.

  “Marshall,” I forced out, trying to sound emphatic and strong. It must have because he turned around.

  “All okay?”

  “Yes. Great.” I sat down near him as he continued to click through the photographs. “Awesome shots.”

  “Thanks. I’m pretty happy with them. These are of Derek Sanderson for Finite. You’ve modelled with them, haven’t you?”

  “Just one time on the runway for them, I think. I’m still learning all the names, you know. Usually, I read up a lot before a show, but I haven’t committed everything to memory yet. Maybe one day I’ll get as good as you.” I looked over at him with a smile.

  He closed his laptop. “No doubt. You are going places. Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right. Mayfair is impressed, and whether it’s here or around the world, any modelling agency will be lucky to have you.”

  “I-uh … that’s nice of you to say.” I laid my hands flat on the table, straightened my shoulders, and looked up. “Okay Marshall, I-I have to say to you and your friends … thank you. You have been the best. Back in the States, I’d told you that I was found, or whatever you want to call it, on a reality television show for models and won this contract.” I cleared my throat as
Marshall nodded.

  “When I get in front of camera or walk a runway, it’s strange, I become alive, which is so different to my usual personality that I can’t even explain it.”

  “Yeah, that makes total sense. Stuart, and probably the whole media world, say I’m an ornery, grumpy guy or was, but whenever I was on set, I was the utmost professional.”

  I appreciated him trying to make me feel less nervous. It was working. “Anyway, so I knew I was gay, but I’d kept it secret. There was this other contestant on the show. His name was Helios.” A blush felt hot on my face. “He was gorgeous, maybe more so than you are, if that’s even possible.” I got a dreamy look just thinking back to him.

  Marshall cleared his throat and then Stuart came over from where he’d been painting. Marshall’s arms were crossed as he leaned back in the chair. He actually looked kind of mad.

  “What did … I do? Uh …” I trailed off.

  Stuart handed me a drink and sat down. “He’s just in a huff because you called someone else hotter than him.”

  The water in my mouth just burst out, and I started laughing and couldn’t stop. Then Stuart joined in while Marshall pouted.

  “Continue the story,” Marshall said in a huff and rolled his eyes. “Helios?”

  “Thank you. This has made my telling you the story much easier. Well, Helios was everything a gay man is that I am not: outgoing, flirty, confident, handsome, experienced—Did I mention that? Oh, and opinionated. I was a little infatuated, I think. So anyway, there was a lot of downtime between the contests and eliminations. We were all living in a big mansion together, and one night by the pool, Helios actually came out to talk to me. It wasn’t exactly much of an intelligent conversation, but it was freeing and refreshing. He was comfortable in his skin and didn’t care what anyone thought. I loved his attitude and only wished I could’ve been like that as well. A few nights later … and after a few drinks, he pulled me outside to sit on the lounge chairs by the pool under the dark sky. It was probably stupid of me, but I wasn’t thinking about how there were cameras everywhere or how I’d signed a form saying they could use any footage they’d wanted. So long story short, the next night he kissed me and I loved it. The feel of his lips, his stubble on my chin was intoxicating.” I took a sip of water. “So we flirted and kissed in secret up until he got eliminated. I knew it didn’t mean anything, but it was just so liberating for me. Before that, I’d been sheltered and only imagined that kind of thing or seen it in magazines or from watching porn.” I bowed my head down for a moment as I thought about my life in the US before the show and living with such a burden, but it didn’t last long. I was past all those memories and feelings of not being good enough. I looked at them both, my face having changed from whimsy to almost sadness. I bit at my bottom lip, then continued.

  “That’s, uh, how my dad found out I was gay—kind of. When I got back from filming the show, I knew that he’d see it when it aired. The local paper even did a little write up about me being on the show. So I told him I was gay. It didn’t go over well. At all. He blurted all sorts of things—even argued that the show had made me gay. I couldn’t tell him that I’d won the contest either, at that point. With the NDA, we couldn’t say anything until the winner was announced.” I put my thumb and forefinger up to the bridge of my nose. “Basically between me telling him and the show airing, we didn’t talk. It was easier to avoid the confrontation, you know? He tried to stop me from coming here when I won. No congratulations or excitement. He still calls and texts me, and harasses my best friend back home, but it’s mainly to ask when I’m coming home or if I’m scared over here on my own.”

  Stuart came around and rubbed my shoulders. “Thank you for telling us. You aren’t alone.” He glanced at Marshall, obviously having some sort of telepathic transference of information between them.

  Marshall scraped his seat on the hardwood and moved closer to me. He put his hand on my forearm. “Yes, look … Thanks for opening up to us. We’re your family now. Anything you need. And I won’t ask about your family anymore, especially after your accident, but maybe you can tell your best friend.”

  “Yeah, I did. Thanks, guys. It means a lot. Now, are there more pancakes?”

  Stuart laughed. “A man after my own heart.”

  I rearranged my hair and straightened my tie. I pressed my stomach gently and knew the bruises had faded. They did feel like they were improving.

  “Looking fine,” Stuart said.

  They’d invited me to stay a while longer after that night in the alley, and I didn’t want to admit how good it felt to not sleep in an empty place. Even when I’d gone back to my apartment the other day to pick up some stuff, whenever I’d heard a noise, I jumped for no reason. I didn’t want to tell them I was afraid to go back. I knew I had to, but not tonight.

  Tonight, I was going to meet the man who saved me. He’d been on my mind ever since that night and how he took care of me—a total stranger. That brief moment when I wanted to lean in to his touch …

  I took a deep breath and then Carter and Jamieson were there to pick me up. “Ready for the party?” Jamieson said. “I’m so lucky to have a celebrity boyfriend who gets invited to these things. Schmooze with celebs and all that.”

  Carter swatted his side. “Good to know I’m good for this one thing.” He smiled, letting Jamieson know he was teasing.

  We chatted in the taxi, and I relaxed a little. Then we arrived at the venue, which was quite a fancy ballroom. “First, drinks.” I followed them over to a VIP area, and Carter ordered for us. “I detest these things,” he said as Jamieson spoke.

  “There’s what’s-his-name from that movie.” He pointed to the left where a distinguished gentleman stood. “Oh, look, there’s the lead singer of the Bandits.” He was looking at a guy I wasn’t familiar with who was wearing a black leather jacket and had messy hair that he probably spent hours trying to get that ‘just right’ bedhead look. “Wow, this is absolutely amazing. He looks hot,” he said, looking left. That made Carter straighten up.

  Our drinks were brought over and I tapped my legs even though I was trying not to be nervous. “Um, so you guys do this a lot?” Ugh, I’m such an idiot, I thought.

  Jamieson squeezed Carter’s leg and gave him such an intimate look, I almost felt like a peeping Tom. It was something I longed for. Maybe one day I’d have someone to trust and confide in, someone to come home to and cuddle with.

  Instead of dwelling on that thought, I grabbed a drink from a passing tray and threw it back. Here I was, in this loud venue, needing some liquid courage. Why did I even care so much about this guy—and a celebrity no less. I had walked a New York runway for fuck’s sake. Like, how was this my life now?

  Carter was rubbing my back. “You, my friend, are also a celebrity. Stay calm.”

  Shit, had I been rambling out loud. I had no time to think because Jamieson was elbowing me, quite hard actually. “There, it’s him. Look, Jasper Abbott.”

  I glanced in the direction he was pointing to see the handsome man who had saved me surrounded by people, lots of people. I put my head down between my legs.

  “This was a stupid idea. Let’s just leave it.” I took another sip of my drink. I’d have to be careful not to overdo it … annnd I was speaking to no one it seemed.

  Carter was being accosted for a selfie just outside the VIP area, and Jamieson had joined the swarm of people surrounding Jasper. Ugh.

  8

  OLLIE

  I let my body move and scanned the dance floor for someone appetizing. Laughing to myself, I threw back another Mai Tai. The bartender had looked at me rather strangely when I asked for one of those little umbrellas they usually added to them.

  Juliette giggled beside me.

  “Such a terrible wingman … well, woman.”

  She poked my nose and then angled my sequinned shirt so it fell over one shoulder. After she took a sip of her boring vodka and soda, she twisted on the barstool. “What about him over th
ere? See, in the blue turtleneck?”

  “Eww, how sweaty he must be. Who wears that out? Between all these people dancing and the heat …”

  She swatted me and rolled her eyes. As she started to lecture me, I quickly found someone. He’d been watching me all night, so I decided to grab the bull by the horns. What could it hurt? I strutted over to the handsome businessman with his shirt opened one too many buttons. “Hey, stud, just in town for the week?”

  He smirked and then smiled, revealing very white teeth. “Um, I was actually looking at your friend.”

  I turned to leave, horrified. As I made it back to Juliette, I threw my head on her shoulder, then sat up. “Are you waving at him?”

  I stormed off and found a sofa by darkened area. “This is why I don’t ever come out with Juliette,” I said to no one. Of course that wasn’t true. I loved going out with her. I scrolled my phone looking for the number of a willing body, pushing the screen probably a little too roughly. I didn’t need the handsome businessman. It was just fucking anyway, like always. Juliette had probably already brought him to the hotel room next door. Ugh, I just wanted this night to be over.

  Then, out of nowhere, the face of the man from the other night popped into my mind—his dark hair and complexion, the dimple I just barely noticed—and I wondered momentarily if he was gay. What would it be like to have him, to touch him?

  My phone rang in my hand, making me slightly jump. I let out a bit of a scream, but no one turned their heads or anything, so it must have been drowned out. Looking at the screen, I could see it was my brother. No, I couldn’t handle him tonight.

  Later, as I continued sitting in the dark, I pulled my knees up to my chest. Juliette appeared and tapped me on the leg. I lifted them so she could sit down, then stretched them across her lap. “Want to get out of here now? We can order room service at the hotel and watch some foreign show without subtitles and try and guess what’s happening.”