“Yeah. He was with the Pres in the photo, and he had his clothes on, but it was him.” I forced myself to laugh. I didn’t want anyone, not even Vince, to know how I was hurting. “And y’know what was even funnier?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
I kept laughing. If I stopped…”The Pres was commending him for being such a morally upright member of the CIA.” The john who liked to wear long red wigs and women’s pink underwear.
“Really.” For some reason that interested him. “Do you happen to remember his name?”
“No. Sorry. You know I’m not into politics.”
“What happened to the original tape?”
I waved my hand vaguely. “It’s around somewhere.”
“Mind looking for it for me?”
“Sure.” I couldn’t imagine why he wanted it. He’d never struck me as the kind of man who got off on porn, but I’d never questioned the preferences of my clients, and even if Vince wasn’t a client, it was his business.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Uh…” I gnawed on my lip. I couldn’t stand the thought of Wills being willing to wash his hands of me. “You really think Wills was worried about me?” I should have been embarrassed by the hopefulness in my voice, but this meant too much to me. “I…I never even thought of that.”
“Yeah, well, check with him before you start assuming you know what he’s thinking.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Had I been that wrong, or was I clutching at straws? “Oh, good luck with the condo. It really was pink.” Pink walls, pink carpeting, pink everything. I’d never known there were so many different shades of pink.
“Thanks. It still is. If you have some time, would you be interested in overseeing the redecorating?”
“I’d get to choose the colors and arrange all that neat furniture you bought? You bet!” Ever since I’d gone to Rockville with him and helped him select the furniture, I’d been itching to get my hands on it. And it would help distract me. “I’ll go to Home Depot and pick up some paint chips. Maybe I’ll pick up some power tools too. For Wills.”
That should work. He’d loved the jigsaw his father had given him for his birthday a few weeks before. I’d give him a present, and he’d forget all about me having been a rent boy.
“See ya, Vince,” I tossed over my shoulder as I hurried back into the apartment.
Wills was in the kitchen, fussing with the coffee maker. He refused to meet my eyes.
“Here, let me do that before you break it.”
He turned away, still not meeting my eyes.
“Look, Matheson. I was what I was. I can’t change that.” I’d sell my soul if I could. “I’m sorry it’s got your shorts in a twist, but…” Please don’t leave me.
He spun around and stared at me, and I swallowed hard. There was anguish in his eyes. “D’you…d’you think I care two shits about what you did? What bothers me is how easily you…You could have been killed, Theo. I…I saw—”
The pictures in the newspapers? Yeah. They had been graphic and gruesome. After seeing the first newspaper, I’d thrown it out and refused to allow any of them in the house.
“Oh, babe. I’m sorry. I thought…” I put my arms around him, and for a long moment he held himself stiffly. But then a massive shudder ran through him, and his arms came around me.
“You thought I’d walk out of your life. I won’t. I’m not going anywhere, Theo.”
I wanted to ask if he’d promise, but that was stupid, not to mention juvenile. Instead I cleared my throat and asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”
“You know what I really want? I want to go back to bed and pretend I never got out of it because it sounded like a machine gun was going off outside our front door.”
We’d seen enough action movies to know what a machine gun sounded like. “Okay, then, let’s go. I was having a really good dream too. Maybe I can get it back.” I took his hand and led him back into the bedroom.
“What was it about?”
“You.”
“Yeah?” A blush ran from mid-chest up to his hairline. He put his gun away, stripped off his sweatpants, and got back into bed. He patted the spot beside him. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
I was putting a fresh supply of lube in Wills’s nightstand when I found them, a small stack of credit cards neatly banded together.
The name on the cards was William Matheson. I realized they were the ones I had given him.
Seeing them reminded me that although all the statements had been paid for the month of August, none of them had the charges for our vacation in Key West.
I went to his office, hovering in the doorway for a moment. It was his office, after all, and I never went in there unless he was there also. Still, I had to know what was going on.