“This is why you need more people working for you. It’s ridiculous that we have to wait so long for a couple of eggs.”
Arthur’s false smile turned strained, and he clenched his teeth.
“I’m happy with the way things are, thanks.”
His father was still sneering as Gertrude came in minutes later with several plates of food.
The rest of the meal passed without issue, though Arthur still found it incredibly tiring. After he finally showed his parents out, he couldn’t wait to flop back into bed. Quickly, he raced up the stairs to see Jesse, and when he reached the bedroom, he burst in through the door with a sigh.
“God, was it that bad?” Jesse asked, setting his book aside.
“Not really, but I’m still exhausted.” He ripped off his suit jacket and threw it over a chair. “And I’m in dire need of cuddles.”
Jesse laughed. “So, what did they want?”
“Just to invite me to a private event at the fair,” Arthur said, climbing into the bed. “It seems like they want me to talk to the families we know about my print shops.”
“Oh. That’s . . . good. I think?”
Arthur smiled and touched his lips to Jesse’s.
“It is. I think.”
Both of them chuckled. Jesse held out his arms, and Arthur melted into his embrace, resting his head on Jesse’s chest.
“I wish things were simpler,” he said. “But of course my father presented the offer in such a way that it was vaguely insulting. And of course it’s not really aboutmebut about my parents. Myfather only approached the man who is hosting the event because he’s still so embarrassed about having me for a son. Lowly Arthur Hughes with his modest little print shops and teeny tiny staff and pitiful little investments that barely ever yield significant earnings in comparison to his own. Oh, and we can’t forget my various other business ventures that eventually failed.”
Jesse moved his hand through Arthur’s hair, and Arthur hummed, letting Jesse’s comforting touch temper some of his rising upset.
“Sorry,” Arthur said. “Just complaining.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse said. “I can only imagine how stressful it is to be Warren Hughes’s son.”
“Yes, it can be, but I shouldn’t be moaning about my family when our name, ourwealth, has enabled me to live a life of relative luxury. Or, maybe I shouldn’t even say relative. It’s a life ofextremeluxury, isn’t it?”
“Just because you’re rich in one way doesn’t mean that you’re rich ineveryway.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Arthur looked up to meet Jesse’s eyes. “But I know you suffered more than I have. I mean, where you were raised... and the fact that your parents were so unkind...”
“It’s not a competition, Arthur.”
Jesse rubbed Arthur’s cheek with his thumb, and Arthur smiled a bit. He turned to nuzzle his nose into Jesse’s chest, and Jesse resumed petting his hair. Self-reproach twisted in Arthur's stomach. He thought that he’d eventually be strong enough not to keep caring about what his parents thought of him. But he still found himself wanting to please them, pathetically craving both their approval and their love.
It seemed like he wasn’t yet strong enough not to care. Not entirely.
But, oh, how he wanted to be.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jesse
Jesse was standing in front of a long mirror in Arthur’s bedroom, scrutinizing his reflection. His brain began to catalog every potentially inadequate thing about his outfit, from the color of his ensemble (mostly charcoal with some white) to its fabric (tweed). Even though Arthur had told him that there was no need for him to fret over his lack of formalwear, Jesse’s stomach was still churning from unease knowing that he would soon be seeing Arthur’s parents, who, very likely, would be expecting him to be wearing something better than a simple sack suit to dinner.
Jesse fiddled with the four buttons on his single-breasted coat, first opening the top two and then closing them, and then opening the bottom two only to close them as well. He blew out a forceful breath. Even though he wore these types of suits often enough, he had never worn them in the presence of people like Warren and Joanna Hughes for a private meal, and, as such, he hadn’t the slightest idea how they’d expect his coat to be buttoned. Frazzled, Jesse unfastened every single button. And frowned.
What a silly thing to be fretting over. Silly, yet somehow monumentally important.
Arthur came up behind him.
