With a roll of his eyes and another sigh, Bill said, “All right. Fine. Any press is good press I guess. I’ll figure it out.”
Tipping his chair back again, Jeremy rolled his eyes. There was nothing to figure out as far as he was concerned. His personal life should be his business and nobody else’s. Even though that wasn’t how his life actually played out because of his career, knowing who he was dating and having a say in it were two entirely different things. Besides, once the press got a look at Reggie Moore, they’d wet their pants. The guy had a face and body made for magazines and a smile to match.
“I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what interviews I have lined up.”
“Interviews?” Jeremy spat, the chair slamming down as he lost his balance.
“Yes, interviews.” Bill rolled his eyes. “You’re doing the whole ‘coming out of the closet’ thing, right? I bet I can get you on The Tonight Show and Today by tomorrow.”
“I’m not going on TV! We have a tour starting in a week.”
“Fine.” Bill turned his chair to face his computer and started typing. “A print interview, then. I’ll get you the cover of Rolling Stone.”
“No.”
“I’m not arguing with you about this.” Bill raised his hand and, without taking his eyes off the screen, shooed Jeremy away. “Go play chess or whatever it is you’re actually doing with this new boyfriend and let me do my job.”
“Why are you saying it like that?”
“Saying what like what?”
“Boyfriend,” he mimicked Bill’s tone. “You’re saying it like it’s absurd.”
“That’s because it is absurd.”
“It’s absurd to be gay?” Jeremy’s tone got more high-pitched as his anger rose.
“No.” Bill finally turned away from the screen and met his gaze. “It’s absurd for you to be gay.”
“Why? Because I’m Hollywood royalty? That’s ridi—”
“How about because you’re thirty-one? People don’t just magically become gay at thirty-one.”
It was a valid point, not that Jeremy would admit to it. “Maybe I’ve been gay the whole time, and I was hiding it?”
“You? Hiding something?” Bill snorted and shook his head. “I don’t think so. And, by the way, nobody else will believe it either. Not with the string of women you’ve had in and out of your bed and how happy you are to share your, uh, opinions, camera or no camera.”
Fine, he might have yelled at a photographer or two hundred over the course of his life, but that was only because they were constantly in his face. “I can be bi. People are bi.”
“You’re bisexual?”
“I can be.”
“Look, Jeremy.” Bill rested his forearms on his desk and leaned forward. “I don’t know if you’re bored or you’re trying to pull a stunt or who knows what else, but unless you’re attracted to men, you’re not gay and you’re not bi.” He sat up. “Not that I care. You keep making hit music, and I’ll make sure our team sells whatever we need to sell about your personal life. It’s fine.”
“I think men are attractive,” Jeremy said defensively but honestly. Hell, he thought Reg was gorgeous. It was one of the things he’d noticed about that man that he knew would make him a good candidate for the job of pretend boyfriend. The camera was going to love him, and the people behind it would too. Good-looking and easy to get along with—a perfect combination.
“You know what I mean.”
Like before, Jeremy didn’t know what he meant. “No, I don’t.”
Turning away from the computer again, Bill said, “Thinking someone is handsome in a theoretical way isn’t the same thing as being attracted to them. Being gay means you have an emotional connection to another man, you want them physically and mentally.” He paused. “Do you understand what I’m saying? You don’t feel that way about men, Jeremy. You’re not the biggest womanizer around, but you’re no monk either.”
The most interesting part about that description was that while Jeremy agreed that he hadn’t felt that depth of emotion for any man, he also realized he hadn’t felt that way for any woman. Not wanting to bare his soul to his manager, he tried to turn the conversation around.
“You sure seem to know a lot about this, Bill.”
“As a matter of fact I do.” He looked at Jeremy meaningfully.
“What are you saying?” Jeremy asked, worried that instead of regaining control of the conversation, he had lost it entirely.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Bill said, “How long have we been working together?”
“Uh.” Math had never been Jeremy’s strength. “I don’t know. Since Roger retired and you took over his clients. When was that?”
“Eight years ago,” Bill supplied helpfully.
“So eight years, then.”
“And in all that time, have you ever met my wife?”
Darting his gaze toward Bill’s empty ring finger, Jeremy said, “You’re married?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“But if I ever get married, it’ll be to a man.”