Apparently, based on what had happened at the art opening. “Maybe they do. By work on myself, do you mean come out?”
“Possibly, but there are other things you could do, like find something you care about other than work and—” She frowned. “Sex.”
Thorne held up his hand. “We are so not discussing that.”
Kathryn smiled. “I won’t say it again.”
“You do realize I have clients who won’t accept an openly gay consultant.”
“Fuck ’em.”
“Oh my God. Did you really just say that?”
“I did. Also, there’s a difference between hiding and announcing you’re gay to everyone you meet. Tell Lauren and the other senior partners and quit worrying what everyone else knows or thinks.”
“Lauren probably knows. I brought Dash to the art opening. If she didn’t know before that, I’m fairly certain she did afterward.”
Kathryn nodded. “I bet she does, but knowing and being told are not the same. She deserves to be in your confidence, considering what she puts up with from you.”
Thorne couldn’t argue with that.
“Start there. When you’re ready,” Kathryn said.
“I’ll think about it.”
“That will have to do for now. That and getting off the couch, eating instead of drinking your meals, and generally acting like a grown-up with a job.”
Thorne flipped her off.
***
Despite Kathryn’s encouragement, Thorne barely got off the couch for the next two days, continuing the fiction that he was sick, and he was, just not with the flu or whatever people at work imagined. If it hadn’t been for Kathryn bringing food by, he might not have eaten either. But on Thursday night, he realized he couldn’t hide forever. Kathryn was right, damn her; if he was going to take time off—and he was—he had to do it like a grown-up.
He showed up at work on Friday morning, groomed, sober, well fed—he’d grabbed an egg-and-cheese wrap on the way to work in deference to Dash’s insistence on the importance of breakfast. As soon as he’d made the decision the night before to start being a functioning adult again, he’d sent an e-mail calling a meeting of the senior partners. Then he’d stayed up until three working, which was easy since he’d done nothing but doze for days. First, he’d strategized how to delegate his workload for the next two weeks. Then he’d gotten online and rented a lakeside cabin in the Blue Ridge mountains. As soon as he wrapped up his meeting, he’d be looking into sailboat rentals. Hell, maybe he’d just buy one while he was up there.
Lauren rose from her desk as he approached. “Are you okay? What happened?”
He inclined his head toward his office door. “Let’s talk in there.”
Once inside, he shut the door and leaned against his desk.
Lauren studied him. “You weren’t really sick, were you? What’s going on?”
“Have a seat.” His legs no longer wanted to hold him up, but he managed to circle his desk before crashing into his chair. He’d thought this part would be easy, but Lauren’s opinion mattered more than he’d realized. Over the last several years, he’d come to rely on her more than anyone else in his life, even Kathryn. The thought of her looking at him in disgust made him ill. But she deserved to know, didn’t she…?
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine. Physically at least. Although if anyone asks, tell them I was hit with a serious case of food poisoning.” He’d rather he had been.
“O-kaaay.”
He couldn’t keep her guessing any longer. “I’m assuming you’ve noticed that I’ve been different for a while now.”
“You mean how you haven’t e-mailed me ten times over the weekend or asked if I could come in at six a.m. to go over notes for a meeting? That sort of different?”
Had he really been that bad? “Yes, that.”
“You’ve been looking more relaxed too, at least until today.”
“I’d never expected to change like this. I’d never had anything in my life more important than this job, never let myself care about anything else until I couldn’t help it.” He paused and stared out the window.
“Wait. Are you trying to say you fell in love?”
He nodded, a short, sharp movement.
“With the young man you brought to the opening? The one you defended?”
He sagged back against his chair, relieved he didn’t have to say it. “So you did know.”
“That you were gay?”
He nodded.
“I wasn’t sure if you were gay or bi, but I knew you weren’t simply friends with that young man.”
Thorne turned away, looking out the window. He forced himself to ignore the tightness of his chest and the burning behind his eyes. He had to keep it together. “Now we’re not anything at all.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her voice was low and soft, like she was unsure whether to speak at all.
“So am I. I need some time to…process. I’m taking two weeks off.”
“T-two weeks? I don’t think you’ve ever taken more than a day except when your mother was in the hospital.”