Vlad stared at him. “I’m not going anywhere. Didn’t Roman tell you I was going to stay here?”
Luke’s eyes widened. “What—?” He cut himself off and sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. Follow me, then. I’ll show you to your room.”
Judging by the tense set of Luke’s shoulders, Roman had a hell of a fight coming his way.
Vlad wasn’t concerned. He wasn’t there to be liked and make friends. He was there to do his job.
“And Vlad?” Luke said, his voice very soft. “I don’t care about your views, but I won’t tolerate any homophobic slurs toward my friends. Give me one reason and I’ll fire you, regardless of what Roman says. If I don’t feel comfortable around you, I’m not going to put up with you. There’s enough hate toward us; I won’t tolerate it in my own home. Got it?”
“Yes,” Vlad said. The kid had a spine, he’d give him that. He could respect it.
Chapter 4
Sebastian was so, so late.
“Dammit, Hermione!” he said, trying to instill some authority into his voice. “Come down this instant.”
His cat didn’t move an inch.
“Come on, girl,” he pleaded, glancing at his watch. He was so fucking late. “Come down, princess. Please. I know you can.” At least no one could see him begging his cat. A perk of living alone.
Hermione didn’t move, still meowing pathetically from her spot on top of the wardrobe. Sebastian sighed, brushing his fingers over his carefully styled hair. He didn’t want to leave her up there. He would likely be gone till the next morning and he wasn’t confident in her ability to get down while he was out. It wouldn’t be the first time his cat had climbed on something and then couldn’t get down. Sebastian loved Hermione, he did, but he wasn’t blind to her flaws. She was kind of...not very smart, truth be told. His sister, Julia, always cracked up and called him an idiot for naming the “dumbest cat in existence” after one of the smartest fictional characters. To be fair to him, he couldn’t exactly tell how smart she was—or wasn’t—when Hermione had been a kitten.
“All right,” he said with a sigh, glancing at his watch again. He was already fifteen minutes late. “It’s your own fault,” he said, reaching for the broom.
Half an hour later, after getting his cat down and changing his outfit, Sebastian was climbing into his Range Rover, trying not to feel guilty. Maybe his mother was right and he shouldn’t be responsible for another living being. Hopefully Hermione wasn’t too traumatized. But it wasn’t like he had much of a choice, was it? It was rude to be late for the engagement party of your boss. Well, strictly speaking, Tristan DuVal wasn’t his boss—Sebastian was employed by a modeling agency and was only signed on to be the face of Tristan DuVal’s new fashion line for men, but still. Being late wasn’t acceptable. Looking like he’d been fighting with his cat was even less acceptable. The party wasn’t exactly a small affair, and there were likely to be members of the press in attendance. Tristan DuVal’s engagement to another man was a pretty big deal, after all. It wasn’t every day an ex-footballer of Tristan’s caliber came out.
Sebastian smiled ruefully, wondering when the sports world was going to change. He was lucky the modeling business was nowhere as cruel and unforgiving to non-straight people. Sure, there were assholes everywhere, but things were nowhere near as bad as in football. There were quite a few gay designers and gay models in the fashion industry, and most people were cool with Sebastian being openly bisexual. Actually, he sometimes wondered whether the fact that he wasn’t straight influenced Tristan in choosing him as the face of his fashion line. Maybe. Either way, it was a great opportunity. Tristan’s fashion line was getting a lot of publicity. Sebastian didn’t doubt it would be very successful. Gay or not, Tristan DuVal had always been a media darling. He was England’s Golden Boy, with his exquisite looks, effortless charm, a childhood sob story, and the tragic ending of his promising career. Tristan also had great business instincts and belonged to the rare category of people who succeeded in everything they set out to accomplish, and Sebastian was genuinely flattered that Tristan had chosen him to be the face of his fashion line. It was going to be huge.
Sebastian smiled excitedly at the thought, turning the ignition off and getting out of his car. As he had expected, there was a sizable group of paparazzi in front of the club.
“Sebastian, give us a quote, please!”
“Sebastian, is it true you’re going to be the face of DuVal’s fashion line? What about the rumored exclusive contract with Burberry?”
“Sebastian, a comment on the scandal that happened during New York fashion week?”