“Oh, please. Feel free to be effusive, Harry. They fucking loved us. They wined and dined us at the poshest restaurants in Manhattan, and even put us up at the St. Regis. It was divine.” Darren grinned like a madman.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get sidetracked. We have a lot to cover. The logistics are mind-boggling but doable. A lot of fucking paperwork.”
“Which you love,” Darren reminded him.
Harry shrugged. “True. Listen, I think the bulk of the terms and conditions will be standard, but they voiced interest in product representation again. The CEO—what was his name again, Dar?”
“Myron Bernstein. He has a crush on me.”
“He does not have a crush on you.”
“Does too. And he’s a bit of a rebel for a straight man. To a point. He told us he wants to ruffle feathers and garner attention without alienating his board. When we mentioned the band…at your suggestion, Myron almost fainted.” Darren fanned his face theatrically. “He saw Zero in concert last year and apparently, they made an impression. Did you talk to your friend?”
“Yes and no. Tegan told me that Zero’s manager has the final say on all publicity and marketing. I knew that was the case. Unfortunately, I didn’t have an opportunity to run anything by Charlie at that barbecue over the weekend.”
All right, that wasn’t entirely true, but Darren and Harry didn’t need to know I’d accidentally blown my shot to talk to Charlie because I’d wanted to spend time with Johnny. It was all a bit of a mystery. We’d lingered over silly topics like a couple of teenagers over a punchbowl at a high school dance. It had sort of felt like we were flirting, but I couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t much of a flirt.
C’mon, I was forty-fucking-five. I put close to zero effort into finding willing partners. I didn’t have to. And that was not a brag. It was fact. There was always some guy who wanted something from me and was happy to suck my dick or give me his ass to prove it. Like Thaniel.
Johnny was nothing like him. Flirtation with him would have required bringing my A-game. These days, my A-game needed a pregame warm-up. I was out of practice. And that was okay. I had other priorities at the moment. Besides, I didn’t go for skinny dudes with tattoos, guyliner, and attitude to spare. Johnny was friend material only.
It was only slightly disturbing that four days later, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Weird things too…like the shape of his eyes, the way they creased at the corners when he laughed, and the way his lips felt—
“He wants the guitarist.”
“The guitarist?” I repeated with a frown. “Wait. I must have zoned out. What are you talking about?”
“Dar has that effect on people,” Harry taunted playfully, lowering his head to hide his grin behind his laptop when Darren flipped him off.
Darren unraveled his pink scarf and made a production of rewrapping it around his neck, flattening the puffy parts fussily.
“Myron wants Zero to promote his fizzy water in an ad campaign. Online, billboards, television, the works. But he’d like the guitarist on the Pride bottle they’re releasing in June. He’ll invest in our venture if we help get him in the door at Scratch Records.” Darren lifted an arched brow and cocked his head. “That’s where you come in.”
“I know. The plan was to see how much McMillan was willing to invest before I approached them, but…” I creased my forehead in confusion. “I thought they wanted the whole band. Where does the guitarist fit in?”
Darren circled his wrist meaningfully. “You know, they want him to do that thing guitar boys do.”
“What thing?”
“The sexy thing…like this.” He jumped to his feet, wielding an air guitar like a boss. Not gonna lie, it was pretty damn funny to see the usually prim and proper older man strike a rocker pose.
I barked a laugh. “Got it. But that can’t be the reason. Anyone can do that.”
“Not as seamlessly as Darren.” Harry patted his friend’s hand and grinned. “However, you’re correct. Myron wanted to time the ad campaign with Pride using colorful queer artists.”
“Johnny literally wears all black. Why him?” I squinted hard enough to give myself a headache.
“He wears lipstick too. That’s the part Myron likes. Gender fluidity and all that,” Darren said, flipping the end of his scarf with a flourish.
“Oh. Right.” I rubbed my beard thoughtfully while Darren went on about rock star logos and marketing plans, neither of which had anything to do with investment property.
“The only sparkling water I will ever drink better come in a bottle of Veuve, but I must say, I’m intrigued with Myron’s ideas. Very forward-thinking!”
“Okay, but why do we care about Myron’s sparkling water? We just want his money.”
Harry nodded. “It’s an offbeat request, but where else are we going to find deep pockets in one package without going through a venture capital firm? We’ll make a ton of dough if we join forces with McMillan. Enough to retire in style. They’ll pay the band handsomely too. It’s a financial win-win.”