Trust Me (Rough Love 3)

“Price texted me a couple more times,” Andrew said quietly. “I don’t know if you want to know that. I don’t know if it matters. I just don’t answer them.”

I sighed. “Thanks. Sorry if he’s bugging you.”

“He’s not really bugging me. He just keeps asking if you need anything. But I already told him you’re fine, so I think he’s just looking for excuses to contact me. Maybe he thinks I’ll drop some hint about where you’re staying.”

“If he wanted to find me, he would have done it by now. I mean, my phone is on his plan, and he has other ways of searching for me. Surveillance and investigators. Hunting binoculars. Remember that?”

Andrew shuddered. “How could I forget?”

But he hadn’t tried that hard to find me, and he hadn’t come by. Every time room service knocked on the door, I thought, maybe… But no. I couldn’t say I was hiding anymore, because Price wasn’t looking. I was just living in a hotel, waiting to start some new life.

“Thanks for coming to hang out with me,” I said. “Next time, I’ll schedule us a massage.”

There was an obnoxiously loud knock at the door. Andrew’s eyes widened.

“It’s just Jino,” I said. “Vinod’s bodyguard. His fists are the size of your head.”

“Mmm. Bodyguard fists,” Andrew cooed, jumping off the bed. He shrugged into his coat while I went to answer the door. Vinod and Jino bustled in, still cold from outside, wrapped in coats, gloves, and hats. Vinod looked surprised when he noticed Andrew.

“Entertaining handsome young men in your room?” he joked. “You’ll make Mr. Eriksen jealous.”

“Mr. Eriksen has no right to be jealous,” I said.

“Mr. Eriksen has no reason to be jealous,” Andrew joked with a swishy tilt of his head.

“Oh.” Vinod chuckled. “It’s like that.”

Andrew was a terminal flirt, and Vinod, that old letch, was giving him the once over right in front of his bodyguard boyfriend Jino. I pictured the two of them double-teaming my friend and got a little turned on by the visual. And a little squicked out. But mostly turned on, maybe because my sex life had gone from two or three encounters a day to zero in the space of a week.

“Vinod, this is my best friend Andrew. Andrew, this is Vinod Sushil and his bodyguard, Jino. Vinod is a trailblazer in Asian ready-to-wear.”

Vinod stopped mentally undressing Andrew long enough to turn to me with a smile. “A trailblazer, eh? Flattery will get you everywhere. And what do you do with your life?” he asked, turning back to Andrew.

“I’m a painter.”

“A painter?” Vinod stopped leering. His eyes brightened with approval. “I love artists. What do you paint?”

“Anything that moves me,” said Andrew with a smile. “I love to make everyday things special and beautiful.”

“Ah, then we are in accord, because I also like to make everyday things special and beautiful. What else is life about?” He dug out a card and gave it to Andrew. “Send me a link to some of your work. I love to collect.”

He wanted to collect all right—collect Andrew right into his bed. Andrew pocketed the card. “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Sushil.” He nodded to the bodyguard too, who was twice his size. “I’ll leave you all to it.”

We hugged and he left, his oversized messenger bag banging against his hip. He really was adorable. And taken. “He has a pretty serious boyfriend,” I said to Vinod as his eyes lingered on the door.

“So do I,” said the old man. “What’s your point?”

We both laughed, and then he returned to his usual businesslike self. We sat at the table and started going over some of the tweaks he’d asked for the last time we met together. I showed him the pieces I’d worked up, but most were still in the sketch stage. He touched the paper, trying to visualize.

“This would be dark gold?” he asked, considering a tie pin. “Bronze?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I can’t think unless I see it. Unless I feel it in my hands. Show me something else that’s similar.”

We talked some more, and then he asked how I felt about adding some women’s items to the upcoming order. How did I feel about it? I felt fucking ecstatic. The women’s market was ten times larger than men’s. I’d been waiting all this time for him to ask. But now…

“I don’t have that many samples here. There are so many things I want to show you. Can I send you pictures?”

“We can go to your studio right now. Jino will drive us, if you’re not too busy.” He looked pointedly around the hotel room. “You don’t look busy.”

“I’ve been drawing.”

“Drawing? I need to see things. I want to hold things in your workshop. Why are you here? Why not in your studio?”