Stunned, he felt goose bumps rise on his cold skin. The longer he gazed at Christo’s impassive face, the more he wanted to puke. As it was, the room went gray for a moment before he gathered his wits. “What about him?”
“He was arrested? Something to do with prostitution and drug-dealing?”
“What does this have to do with anything?” Spencer forced out between numb lips. “How did you find out about him? I only gave this number in case of an emergency.”
“Your assistant was at lunch when you were out yesterday, and Margo took the call. It was from the state prison. Obviously, I was surprised. So I made a few calls.”
Obviously. I’ll just bet you did.
The savagery with which Spencer wanted to hurt Christo frightened him, so he stayed silent.
“You’ve never mentioned him. Are you close?”
Attempting to remain calm, Spencer shook his head, not confident he could trust his voice.
“It puts us in a bad position. We represent elegance and luxury, and yet one of my top people has a relative in jail for something so ugly.” He pursed his lips, and Spencer wanted to smack him. He’d always known Christo was a snob, but even if they weren’t friends, they’d had a decent working relationship.
“Are you firing me?”
“No, no. But maybe it would be good for you to take some time off. Deal with your problems.”
Problems? What problems? He had no problems. He had a job he loved, the family of friends he could always count on, and best of all, Wolf.
Yet why did he feel like the kid with no friends in school and no place to sit at lunchtime?
Never let them see you crumble, baby.
He bit the inside of his cheek. “Not a problem. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Yes. Take all the time you need.”
Without responding, Spencer walked out, head held high, past Margo sitting at her desk with big, sorrowful eyes, down the hall, all the while keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead.
Matty, his trusty assistant, unwound his long legs from his desk to rush after him. “What’s wrong? You look upset.”
Behind his desk, Spencer began to empty out drawers, taking out personal items he’d need. “Sergio’s assistant, that twit Roberto, is claiming I sexually harassed him. All because I didn’t order the entire year’s line. I knew I shouldn’t have bothered to talk to him.”
“You know he’s a little snake. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m sure.” Matty peered over the desk. “What’re you doing?”
“We might’ve flirted, and yeah, I won’t deny I got drunk at a party and kissed him. But it never went further than that.”
“What did Christo say? You’re frightening me.”
Matty had come to him three years earlier, fresh out of FIT, and in that time, Spencer had seen him transform from a shy young man who’d confessed he couldn’t believe his good luck at landing his dream job, into someone who wasn’t afraid to voice an opinion. He was quirky, and still got anxious whenever a big-name designer came in house, but he was loyal and fiercely protective of Spencer, who recognized him as a kindred spirit.
“He told me to take time off to sort through my shit.”
Matty gawked. “No, he did not. Thatbastard.”
“It’s okay. I could use a break. I’ve been working nonstop since Todd’s show and the party. I wouldn’t mind a little R and R.”
“But you’re coming back, right? I don’t wanna work here without you.” Matty sniffled.
“Of course,” Spencer soothed. “Now let me reschedule what I can on today’s calendar. If Christo wants to explain to my regulars later in the week what happened, that’s on him.” He tossed his now-cold coffee into the trash can.
***
At home in his apartment in Chelsea, Spencer lay on his couch with a vodka on ice at his side, staring at the walls, but then decided to text the guys.
