I watch him walk down the hallway, but my attention is pulled back to the TV when I glimpse the reporter standing out front of a very familiar building. No way.
“Police have confirmed prominent real estate mogul and former city council member, Gage Rappaport, was found dead in his home by his cleaning staff early this morning. At this time, the cause of death is being reported as an apparent suicide and there is no suspicion of foul play. Mr. Rappaport has faced numerous allegations of inappropriate conduct with staff and mismanagement of funds, and his real estate empire has been under federal scrutiny in recent months. His death comes weeks before he was scheduled for an extensive audit.”
Whoa. I had no idea he was so high profile. I got lucky this time, but that was sloppy and impulsive on my part. Thank fuck I went the suicide route. It fits the narrative. It sounds like my instincts were right though. He was definitely a piece of shit.
“Holy fuck,” Nantes says, suddenly beside me. He’s focused on the TV and the image of Gage. “That’s the guy from the bar last night, isn’t it?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“He’s dead?”
“He is. Suicide.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “That just goes to show, you have no idea what people are going through. He seemed so confident and self-assured.”
“Sounds like he had some demons. He was being investigated for some shady business dealings and inappropriate conduct.”
Nantes turns to me. “You nailed it, then. You said he gave you a bad vibe.”
“Yeah.”
“What a chicken-shit way to die. He doesn’t have to face justice or deal with his issues. Mental illness is real, and a lot of people take that route who are truly struggling, but I’m fucking sick of white-collared losers doing shit like that instead of just facing what they did.”
“Me too. Sometimes I tell myself maybe they had some kind of epiphany before they died. It makes me feel better.”
“I’ll try that.” He shakes his head. “Fuck. If I hadn’t been with you, I might’ve hooked up with him. Gotta be more careful out there.”
“It’s true. I had a coworker get robbed blind by a hookup. He took her back to his place and they had great sex, according to him. He wakes up in the morning, she’s gone, and so is all his cash, his watch, his laptop, and a tablet.”
“Damn. She cleaned him out.”
“She did. He picked her up at a club, but clearly that was her plan all along. Either that, or she got inspired when she realized he had some nice things.”
“That’s why I don’t host. I like to meet up in places and avoid going to theirs too. If it’s just a hookup, there’s no reason to let someone know where you live. Even when I was in Madison, I was all about the bathroom, the alley, someone’s car. Never my place, rarely theirs.”
“Smart.” My chest tightens slightly listening to him, and fuck, I think it’s jealousy again. How do I still feel jealous after all these years? I was ridiculous in high school about his time and attention, and apparently, if given the opportunity, I still am.
“What?”
I turn to him. “What?”
“You made a weird noise.”
“Oh.” I drag my hand through my hair. “I think I’m jealous.”
He tilts his head. “Of what?”
“Men you’ve been with.” I huff a laugh. “Dumb, I know. Until last night I didn’t even know I was into you that way. Or maybe I always have been. I was weird when we were younger too. I hated it when you spent time with people besides me.”
Nantes smiles, reaching out to rub my arm. “You haven’t analyzed it yet, Doctor?”
“I didn’t know I needed to. Guess it was a blind spot.”
“I’m not gonna lie, it’s pretty flattering.”
“Not creepy?”
“Not from you, Van.” He steps closer, putting his hands on my chest. “Earlier you said you like to dominate a little bit. Did you mean that?”
