I glance over at Ross. He’s pleading with his eyes for me to stay calm. He and I have had this same discussion dozens of times over the last ten years—whether or not I should come out. Ross has told me he will stand firmly behind any decision I make. Rachel as well, although she has mentioned it could cost us some fans.
Talbot? Well, I have no idea what his opinion is on the matter. I’ve never cared enough about his feelings to ask.
“Gavin, what the hell were you thinking? Bringing a male date to a launch party for the band’s album.” Talbot scowls and folds his hands, resting them on the table.
His cufflinks are tiny vinyl records, which I would find humorous under any other circumstances. Not today. Not if he’s going to give me shit about my personal life. Not after what happened in the bathroom with Mitch. My very first public date was not only a lie, but it exploded in my face about five minutes ago.
“I’m sorry, Talbot. I was under the impression that dates were allowed. Dax brought Kate, Adam brought Ellie, and Hawke brought his flavor of the month. I didn’t realize the courtesy didn’t extend to me.” I narrow my eyes and glare at the executive.
He sits back, assessing my words.
“He’s right, Talbot. He can bring a date of his choosing,” Rachel pipes in.
Thank god for Rachel Whatley. She gives me a ghost of a smile, letting me know she’s on my side.
“That’s not the point and you know it. You should have given us a heads up. The media is now laser-focused on your personal life, not on the album, which is the entire point of this party—to sell music. This isn’t the Gavin Walker show,” he growls.
“Yes, I agree. It’s not the Gavin Walker show. It’s my personal life,” I snap. “I have no comment for any of them in regards to my date tonight or any other date I may or may not have in the future.”
Ross gives me a pained look and I feel like shit. I probably should have told him about the fake date with Mitch. Most likely, Ross now believes I’m fucking my employee.
Talbot huffs in exasperation. “You know damn well they aren’t going to take ‘no comment’ for an answer, Walker. This little stunt of yours might cost us.”
I stand up and lean on the table, crowding into my boss’ space. “We make more money for you than any other artist on your la
bel, Talbot. Take your greed and shove it. I’m not hiding anymore. Fuck them if they don’t buy our album because I’m gay. Fuck anyone who doesn’t like it. I’ve hidden for ten years and I’m not doing it for one more minute!”
With more confidence than I feel, I shove off the table and walk away. If I stay, I’ll do something I’ll regret. Like punch Talbot Putnam in his soon to be imperfect Roman nose.
I’m halfway to the front door, ready to call a cab so I can escape everything and everyone—Mitch, a stalker, the crowd, Talbot Putnam—when I hear a familiar voice.
“Gavin?”
I whirl around to see Adam’s wife who also happens to be one of my best friends. “Hi, Ellie.” She leans in and wraps her comforting arms around my neck. I return the embrace, confused. “What’s this for?”
Ellie releases me and steps back. “You looked like you could use a hug, that’s all.” She offers me one of her brilliant smiles.
I give her a quick peck on the cheek. “Love you, El.”
“Love you too, Gav. Smile. You’re too gorgeous to mope around,” she chastises, pinching my cheek. Her lilting British accent always makes me feel better.
Despite my shitty mood, I can’t help but grin at her teasing.
“Now,” she chuckles, “where’s that hunky fake date of yours? I want to have a chat with him.” Ellie stands on her toes, trying to find Mitch in the thick crowd.
My skin heats up in humiliation from his disappearance, and possibly from the memory of Mitch manhandling me in the bathroom.
“I-I’m not sure,” I stammer. “Listen, El. I’m taking off. Tell the guys I’ll see them later.”
Her beautiful face crumples. Feeling like a jerk, I duck out before she can ask any more questions about me or Mitch or my miserable attitude.
The dark sidewalk outside the club is quiet. Only a few people are walking around, none of them on my side of the street. Perfect. Now to find a cab.
“Hey!”
My mind cringes at the sound of Mitch’s voice, but my body? Yeah, it has something else in mind. My heart pounds inside my chest as blood races south.
Always stubborn and more than a little mortified after Mitch blew me off, I put my back to him and hold out a hand to flag down a cab.