“I bet. So, why am I here? Am I supposed to do anything besides stand around and look pretty?”
He tugged my elbow and led me along the perimeter of the grounds. “I need a photo or two of you behind Dad while he’s doing his speech. Stone-faced and totally devoid of emotion is what we’re going for. Keep your hands at your side and look official. Any questions?”
“I don’t suppose this is a speaking role.”
“Definitely not. You’ve done enough speaking with Ollie and Rita as is.” Charlie stopped abruptly. “What did you talk about? Anything I should know?”
“Uh…nothing much. Pokémon and Giorgio.”
Charlie grimaced. “I love my dad, but that was not one of his better phases. All right. He has the microphone. I’m going to position you behind him. I just need one or two photos for posterity and auditors. I want to be able to connect you to us in an official capacity…stuntman-turned-security-slash-bodyguard. Then you can fade into the sunset. Just strike a casual pose.”
“Like a stone-cold killer. I got it.”
“Excellent. I won’t keep you after this.”
“You mean I’m dismissed,” I confirmed.
“Yes. I don’t think I’ll need you again, but I’ll call you if I do. I wish you all the best, Mr. Mackay.” He smiled warmly and squeezed my arm. “Now come this way.”
Charlie guided me to a clearing behind the main lawn area before taking his place next to a good-looking surfer dude who put his arm around Charlie and kissed his cheek. Cute couple, I mused, almost teetering into a cactus plant.
I caught myself, glancing up just as Seb stepped forward and reached for the microphone on the table in front of me. He met my gaze and froze, setting the mic down and rounding the table.
“I—hi. What are you doing here?”
“Charlie.”
Seb nodded thoughtfully. “Of course. That was a dumb question. Let me guess…he needs you to stand directly behind me to capture a grainy photo.”
“I guess that’s the idea. You look good,” I said lamely. It was a gross understatement. Seb looked amazing in a striped oxford shirt and khakis. Seriously. Not many men could make the world’s most boring combo seem like haute couture.
“So do you. I like the suit.”
“Thanks. It’s been a while since I’ve had to free it from the back of my closet. I wasn’t sure it would fit.”
He didn’t reply. He just sort of smiled at me, turning when someone called his name. “It’s speech time.”
“Go get ’em. It was nice seeing you again. I’m heading out soon.”
“Wait. Stick around. Please. Just for a few minutes.” He hit me with one of his intense stares that spoke volumes. It went well with his commanding tone
laced with a hint of vulnerability.
Maybe the vulnerable part was my imagination, but I was a sucker for the word “please.”
“Okay.”
He smiled quickly, then turned with arms raised like an orchestra conductor. Someone clinked a knife or spoon against a glass until a hush came over the crowd.
“I’m going to kick off the toasts tonight, which I think is only fitting since I’m one of the oldest people here. Age before beauty as they say.” Seb paused for the light chuckle…like a true showman. “It’s also fitting because I’ve known Gray for close to thirty years. In a way, we grew up together and…”
In a twist, Seb was a masterful storyteller. He wove a sweet tale of the first time he’d met Gray at a party and veered into a series of humorous, self-deprecating anecdotes that had everyone rolling with laughter.
“…there was sauce everywhere. It was absolutely insane. And I couldn’t figure out which spoon to use. Was it a fucking ladle or a small shovel or…”
The guests howled gleefully. I had no context but couldn’t help smiling at Seb’s enthusiastic posturing. He spoke with his hands, pacing from one end of the generous patio and back again while some of the most famous artists in the world hung on his every word.
No kidding. Huge bands like Zero and Jealousy were there, along with a bunch of regular-looking folks who were probably family and close friends. And the very handsome man front and center had to be Gray ’cause that was definitely Justin Cuevas next to him.
Justin was by far the biggest star here. The guy oozed “special.” I couldn’t say why or how. It was something in the way he carried himself and the almost wolfish gleam in his eye. I watched him pull his gaze from Seb to Gray, chuckling with the crowd as Seb regaled everyone with a “dinner gone wrong” tale. The guests snorted, Gray shook his head in mock consternation, and Justin smiled, whispering something to his fiancé that made him chuckle.
Somewhere in the story about too many jalapeño seeds in a batch of chili, I realized there were a lot of layers here. Old and new friends, old and new lovers, and a constellation of players who were privy to the most private parts of these famous people’s lives.