“What’re you going to say? Is there any way those pictures you’ve seen were innocent and André was telling you the truth?” Wolf sounded genuinely curious. “I have such a hard time imagining André with someone else.”
“This was a much younger André, remember. Not the man you know now, but a kid who drank too much and didn’t take responsibilities to heart. So yeah, it’s possible. And the funny thing is, it wouldn’t bother me if he had other relationships. I mean, I’d hardly expect him to be a virgin.”
“Of course it wouldn’t. That’s not the point. He lied,” Wolf said in his slow, methodical manner Chess knew meant he was running facts through his mind. “Why? Why lie about something that happened over twenty years ago?”
“Well, that’s the million-dollar question and why I don’t understand any of this. But, if he lied about that, is he lying about other things?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions.” Elliot broke into the hurricane of dark thoughts in his mind. “Remember what happened when I did that. We can spend all our time on the phone talking back and forth but the reality is, you’re not going to get the answers you want until you talk to André.”
“You’re right.” Chess sighed. “Thanks, guys. I needed this little push to light a fire under my ass. Spencer said the same thing.” He couldn’t resist a little dig at Wolf. “Imagine, you and Spencer finally agreeing on something.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Wolf growled. “This one is obvious. Now go find André and get this straightened out. Your party is in a few days.”
“Thanks, you two. I’ll let you know either way what happens.”
“Either way?” Elliot sputtered. “Nothing’s going to happen. You’ll talk, it’ll be something ridiculous or easily worked out, and you’ll make up.”
“Talk to you later.” He disconnected but remained seated, once again staring out at the water. He was swimming in his own sea of guilt and doubt for keeping his secret from André and his friends. Once this mess was cleared up, he planned to figure out a way to tell André about his past, before they were married. He owed it to him. To them.
Chapter Fourteen
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Rarely did André lose his temper at work, but hearing that Webster’s property insurance might’ve been caught in the middle of a change in policy coverage resulting in the possibility of them being uninsured for the fire damages sent him into a fit of rage.
“How the hell does that happen? Who’s responsible? Thank God there were no injuries and we’re only talking about structural damages.”
“We’re still checking it out.” Renny, his risk-management director, sounded as harried as André felt. “It might be as simple as a button not being pushed.”
“It better not be. Because something that ‘simple,’ as you say, might’ve just cost this company millions of dollars.” Already thinking ahead, André knew he couldn’t stay home. He had to fly out to Florida immediately to assess the damage and talk to his employees. Part of what made Webster one of the most profitable luxury-boutique chains in the world was their attention not only to their guests’ every need, but taking care of their employees. Birthday and anniversary cards were sent, Mother’s Day and graduation flowers for employees and their children were always ordered, and Webster even had a generous college scholarship program. André believed in giving back to the people he hired. “Make sure none of the employees are taken off payroll.”
At the knock on the door, he paused, and a smile broke out over his face when Chess poked his head inside. “Bad time?”
He rolled his eyes. “Trust me, it’s not going to be good for a while. Come in anyway.” He turned his attention to the call. “Renny? I’m gonna call for the corporate jet and leave as soon as I get clearance. Hopefully it won’t take more than a day to figure everything out and deal with the aftermath. I’ll call you when I get there.”
He disconnected the call, texted the pilot, and turned to Chess, who sat with a quizzical tilt to his brows.
“A shit show of epic proportions.” As he explained, Chess’s eyes grew wide, and he winced when André said the word “uninsured.”
“Ouch, damn, that could be a disaster for Webster.”
“Yeah,” André said grimly. “I’m hoping it’s a blip in the computer system, but I need to go to Florida to speak face-to-face with whomever they’re going to send from the insurance company. I have to make sure our interests are protected.”
Disappointment flashed through his eyes, but Chess nodded. “Of course. I’ll miss you, but I understand. I’m glad no one was hurt. That’s the most important thing.”
“Buildings can be rebuilt, but you can’t bring people back. It should only be overnight at the most. If I leave within an hour, I can probably be home for lunch or dinner tomorrow.”
“Oh, good.”
As he gathered his phone and tablet, André recalled Chess wanted to speak about something. “Do you want to talk now, or wait until I get home? I have some time…I think.” He strode toward the door, his mind on all the details he needed to take care of—first, letting his mother know he was on the way to handle the problem.
“N-no, it can wait.”
André stopped in his tracks. “What is it, love? Are you upset? Do you want to come with me? It won’t be fun for you because it’ll be a whirlwind of meetings with hotel staff, insurance adjusters, plus assessing damages and what we need to do going forward.” A pounding started behind his eye. Damn, he was going to have a massive migraine.
“I’ll just be a burden. I’m fine to stay here. Remember, I have Spencer to keep me company.”
André chuckled. “The diva will have your undivided attention. Don’t get into too much trouble together.”
