Simon sighed. Admitted reluctantly, “Alex and I. It was my idea, but he went along with it. He was so worried you’d neverget over what happened last season, and I told him the best thing was for you to just move on.”
“That what you wanted too?” Dawson asked bitterly.
Cam squeezed his hand again. Dawson squeezed back.
Simon must be seeing the writing on the wall, because he actually admitted it. “For the gravy train to keep chugging along? Fuck yes. You know how many clients I got because I hadDawson Hallon my list?”
There it was. The bald truth he’d never wanted to see, right out there in the open.
It felt awful; he wanted to fall to his knees and vomit the poison out of his system until it was all gone. But he also knew, different from last year, that it would eventually be okay again. One day he’d wake up and it would be better. Just,God, he didn’t want to give any of this up. He hoped that it would be better before he could finish what he’d started last season.
Because Simon wasn’t wrong. He’d nearly flushed his career away over this.
“You’re fired,” Dawson said.
“You can’t—”
“I can and I am,” Dawson interrupted in a hard voice.
“Well, don’t be stupid about Alex,” Simon said ruefully. “He didn’t like it. No killer instinct, that one.”
“You mean he actually gave a shit about me?” Dawson asked.
Simon just made a disgruntled noise and Dawson was done. He hung up.
Cam didn’t say anything for a whole block as Dawson tried to stop shaking.
He didn’t know if it was better or worse that the terrible thing he’d suspected, the worst-case scenario he’d told himself a thousand times was only a product of paranoia, was true.
It would’ve made him trust his instincts more, except that he’d trusted Simon in the first place. Trusted Alex, too, even though he didn’t want to think it was the same. But maybe it was.
“You gonna call your agent?” Cam finally ventured, softly, when they were halfway down the next block.
Maybe it was needy to squeeze Cam’s hand again, but he did it anyway. “I should. Iwantto. But I’m so fucking pissed. And hurt. And what if he . . .” Dawson swallowed hard. “What if he knows that and takes advantage of that? What if he weasels his way back in with an apology that I listen to because I don’t want him to be as shitty as Simon was?”
Cam hummed under his breath. “I think you’re not gonna know one way or the other until you listen to him say it.”
“How are you so smart?” Dawson asked wryly. That was better than asking,how did I get so goddamn lucky?
“Not sure, but just happy it’s helping,” Cam said, shooting him a bashful smile.
Dawson nudged him with his hip. “Don’t be modest, now.”
Cam beamed up at him. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I think . . .Simon was one thing, but I wanna see Alex’s face when he says it. When he tries to worm his way back. When he gives me whatever excuse he’s going to cook up.” Dawson sighed. “I’m sure that the first thing Simon did was call him up.”
“Might help you figure it out,” Cam agreed.
Sure enough, it was less than five minutes later—they hadn’t even made it back to the building yet—when Dawson’s phone began to ring.
Dawson met Cam’s eyes and nodded.
“Hey, Alex,” he said when he picked up. It was easier to keep his voice steady with Cam’s hand clasped in his. Maybe he should’ve been able to handle it either way, but was it so terrible to take the help when he needed it? Dawson wasn’t sure.
“Oh, God, Daws. I’m so sorry.” Alex sounded truly, horribly repentant. “I wanted to tell you the truth. Idid.”
As Dawson expected, he did want to believe him. “Then why didn’t you?”
