“Okay, now that my personal life has beendissected, let’s move on.The Heart2Home shelter benefit is nextmonth, on June fifteenth.I’ve bought a table and was hoping youguys would join me, please and thanks.”
“Of course!”Cal exclaimed.
“Sure,” Mac muttered.
“Great, I’ll text you the details.Anyway, Iknow you guys are busy, and I have to get back to work.We’ll talksoon, okay?”
“Yup.If you have time, let’s meet up thisweek, Ry.I’ll text you,” Cal said.
“Later” was all Mac said before he hungup.
And with that out of the way, Ryker was ableto focus on work again.The relationship between the protagonistsin their book was heating up, and Ryker now had some very personalinspiration to guide him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wes
Several days passed in a blur.Portland wasnotably colder and gloomier than New York, but Wes was busy morninguntil night with interviews and book signings, so he had no time tobe concerned about the weather.
Tonight was the final event on his tour, aformal dinner at the Kensington Event Center in honor of theNorthwest Writers Guild’s fiftieth anniversary.The venue was builtin the lavish style of the roaring twenties and had recently beenrenovated with modern touches.It was fitting, then, that tonight’sGreat Gatsbytheme had the guests dressed up in classictuxedos and fringed flapper dresses.
Normally, Wes enjoyed parties of any kind,but the past few weeks on the road had started to grind.Once thiswas over, he would gladly shove his tux in the closet for a while.He needed to go home and see his dogs and his friends and then headback to New York.Maybe convince Ryker to hop on a plane with himto some sunny destination with a private beach and no Internetaccess.Preferably clothing optional.Definitely no tuxedo.
But for now, he would enjoy the evening.Headjusted his bow tie in the large antique mirror in the lobby andwatched the reflection of well-dressed guests walking by behindhim, holding elegant cocktails and sampling canapés.
A young man in a white tuxedo approached,gesturing to the ballroom entrance.“Mr.Stewart, so glad you couldmake the dinner this evening.I’m Ron Granger, the assistantcoordinator for the event.You’ll be seated at table two along withyour guest.If you’d care to follow me, please,” he saidsmoothly.
“Sorry, did you say guest?I’m here on myown.There’s no one attending with me,” Wes said, confused.
“My apologies, sir, but he did have aticket, and he said he was your partner.He showed me a picture ofthe two of you, so naturally I let him in,” Ron blustered, glancingat his phone while texting rapidly.
“Where is this man now?”Wes asked.
“He’s already seated.”Ron pointed to thetable in the corner, near the front of the stage.“The man with thered bow tie.”
There were reams of people walking back andforth in the ballroom, searching for their seats and chatting alongthe way, obstructing his view.When the crowd finally cleared, Weslooked over at the table and spotted him.
There was no mistaking who it was.The manwas slender and decked out in a sharp black tuxedo, his short, darkhair slicked with pomade in the style of tonight’s theme.He hadwide-set eyes, an overly thin nose, and a pouty mouth.An older manapproached the table, and the man with the red bow tie smiled withglowing white teeth, like a predatory barracuda ready to snatch upits next victim.That smile was calculated and designed solely forselfish purposes—to lure in wealthy men.Wes should know.
Kieran.The little shit.
Wes smiled briefly.“It’s all right, Mr.Granger, I will deal with myguestpersonally.”
He proceeded to make his way through thecrowd toward the table.He was stopped en route by several guestsdemanding selfies, which he obliged.Wes made it to his table justas Kieran was getting cozy with the older gentleman sitting besidehim, his long fingers rubbing the man’s thigh slowly.Somethings never change.
“Kieran, what an unwelcome surprise.Whatthe fuck are you doing here?”Wes bellowed, unconcerned about theguests at the table or the general audience around them.Headsturned and chatter quieted as the two men faced off.
Kieran gave the same practiced smile thathad once charmed him.“Wesley, babe, don’t be angry.I just wantedto see you,” he simpered.He stood and leaned in close to Wes,rubbing his right hand over Wes’s arm.Wes shivered, not inanticipation, but in disgust.Before Wes could say anything, Kieranlifted his other hand and snapped a photo of them with his phone.“Memories to treasure,” he said with a laugh.
Wes grabbed Kieran’s arm and hauled him overto the exit doors near the stage.“I have no interest in seeingyou.In fact, I would rather forget you even exist.You need toleave, now, or I will have security escort you out.It’s yourchoice.”Wes’s words were clipped with anger.“And delete thatphoto before I break your phone.”
Kieran’s tinny laugh echoed in the doorway.“I forgot what a he-man you are when you get riled up.So feisty,babe.It makes me hot.”He gave Wes a once-over.“You’re still notover me, are you, Wesley?”Kieran’s brown eyes narrowed, searchingWes’s face.“You can’t handle knowing the man at that table wantedme and there was nothing you could do about it.”
Wes laughed, shaking his head.“I don’t knowwhat you’ve been drinking or smoking, but I don’t care what you do.Fuck every man in this room.I.Don’t.Care.You’re a leech lookingfor his next victim.Get lost before I have you arrested forharassment,” Wes spat out as Kieran’s face morphed from haughtyamusement to a clenched, bitter scowl.
“I’ll leave now, but this isn’t over.”Kieran sneered and sauntered through the exit door.“You owe me,Wesley.”
“I gave you everything, and you betrayed meby trying to sell my private information to the tabloids.I owe younothing,” Wesley shouted after him, his stomach clenching withrevulsion, before he headed back into the ballroom.
