The waiter’s eyes grew warmer. “That’s good to know.” He gave him a wink and walked away, and Chess shook his head. The kid had to be at least ten years younger than him.
“What’s wrong? And Jesus, I need a drink.” Spencer plucked the glass from his hand and drank the entire champagne cocktail in one gulp. “Who were you talking to just now?”
“The waiter. He wanted to know if you were my boyfriend.”
Spencer threw his head back and laughed. “Was he hitting on you? These events are like meat markets, I swear.” He cocked his head and stared after the man, who was working his way through the crowd. “He is cute. Nice ass.”
“Will you stop it? I’m not interested.”
“No shit. Why would you be when you have the gorgeous and obscenely rich André in your bed. I’m thinking of me.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Chess answered with a roll of his eyes. “He’ll come around again, I’m sure.”
“Mmm. Are you having any fun? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to hang out with you, but we can leave soon, now that I’ve shown my face to these wretched people and made nice.”
“Can I ask you something? Seriously, now, Spence.”
“Of course.”
“Why do you do this? I know you’re at the top of your field, but you’re surrounded by people who probably don’t have your best interests at heart. You’re always saying what a jungle it is, and how you have to watch your back…” He put a hand on Spencer’s arm. “Are you happy?”
With each word he spoke, Chess saw the light in Spencer’s eyes grow dimmer.
“I don’t want to talk about this. We’re here to have fun and hang out. Something we don’t get to do much anymore.”
“I miss spending time together.”
“I do too. You and Elliot…” His lips quirked in a grin. “Even Wolf, but don’t tell him that. He probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.”
But Chess persisted. “Why, though? You’ve achieved so much, so young. You could probably write your own ticket anywhere in fashion.”
A waiter—not the cute one from earlier, but another handsome man—passed by, and Spencer grabbed a drink off his tray and downed half of it.
“That’s good. You want to know why? When I was little, all I wanted was to dress up. My mother told me I was picking out my outfits at three, and hers by the time I was five. I loved fashion.”
He twirled the stem between his fingers, and the booming music faded in the background.
“I got laughed at when I went to school over what I chose to wear, but I didn’t give a shit. My mother let me wear what I wanted. I could be myself. She was my best friend—my only friend. It was a relief. But…my mother died when I was in high school, and it was only my father and me after that.” His mouth tightened, and Chess grew frightened by the emptiness in his eyes. “He didn’t appreciate my love of clothing and sense of style. It wasn’t manly enough for him. I stayed out of his way for the most part, knowing that once I went to college, I’d rarely see him.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Spencer’s lip curled. “Nah. He ignored me. Like I didn’t exist. Funny, that hurt even more. I guess I didn’t fit in with who he wanted as a son. I wasn’t interested in watching sports or playing baseball or football. He probably would’ve been happy if I brought home girls to fuck, but that wasn’t happening. And I knew better than to ever bring a guy home.”
“Did he know you’re gay? Did you ever tell him?”
Laughter spilled from his lips. “Do you think Ihadto? Trust me, he knew. He knew and hated it. He’d bring women home and sleep with them…a different one almost every night barely a month after she died. Like my mother never mattered. Maybe she didn’t to him, but have some fucking respect, you know? I didn’t need to have it shoved in my face.” He downed the rest of his drink. “I could hear them fucking through the bedroom walls. He was always so loud with the moaning and screaming, I think he wanted me to know what was going on.”
“That must’ve been hard for you as a teenager.” Why had they never had these conversations before? All the time they spent together in college and after, they’d never opened up.
“One day I came home from school all excited because I’d won some modeling contest at the mall and they’d given me a bunch of trendy clothing. I was showing the collection to Amber, the latest girl my father was screwing, when he walked in. He didn’t say a word, just stood and listened. The next morning I found the clothes burned to ashes in the backyard. That’s when I knew I was going to make sure I succeeded in the fashion industry and be the best at my fucking job and show him that no matter what he did or thought, it didn’t matter because I was going to be a better man than he ever was.” Finding the glass empty, Spencer set it on the table behind them and peered through the crowd. “Where the hell is that waiter? I need another drink. And let’s get out of here. Go dance a little.”
“Ready when you are.” He grabbed Spencer by the arm. “You know you’re the best at what you do. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. And I love you.”
His eyes danced with mirth. “I love you too, sweetheart. And don’t get all maudlin on me. I have no daddy issues. I do wish my mother had lived to see what I’ve accomplished, though. She would’ve been proud.”
“Is he still alive?”
Spencer shrugged. “I assume so. I haven’t spoken to him since I went to college. I spent the summers interning in the city for whatever design houses I could find, and I’d stay at hostels, or sometimes the design house would put a bunch of us in an apartment. That was a crazy time, but any and all of it was preferable to going home to him.”
