From Mission City? Not likely.
The phone rang again. I hit accept. “Can’t you take a hint? We’re not together anymore. You’re not someone I want to be around. You’re vindictive, cruel, and are only out for what you can get. You think other people’s feelings don’t matter. I’m hanging up now. Don’t ever—”
“Please don’t hang up.” An amused, husky woman’s voice rang through the speakers.
Oh fuck.“Oh God, Norah. I’m so—”
“No worries. I’m going to guess you were talking to Lydia. She’s been trying to wheedle tickets from my agent for several days now. I figured she wasn’t with you anymore, or you would’ve gotten them yourself. Then I checked and found you weren’t on the list. Are you not coming?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Lachlan Briggs.” Disapproval dripped as she said my name.
“My sister just got married—”
“That’s lovely. Wish her well from me. That was when…?”
“Yesterday.”
“Right. Saturday. And the première is Thursday. So, unless you’re on the honeymoon with her—”
“No, she and her bride are on their way to Australia as we speak.”
“And you wish you were there?”
Dean’s mate Sam is pretty cute. He’s also married to that American author and, truthfully, although almost no oneknows I’m gay, I really want a certain blond sweetheart back in Mission City…
“Lachlan?”
“Nope. I’m in Toronto. Where I’m meant to be.”Or so you tell yourself. Going to take some convincing, I think.
“Great! So you’re my date for Thursday night. I know you hate the cameras, so you can stay off to the side, but I need an escort, and since you caught that clause in the contract—”
“Any lawyer worth his salt would’ve caught it.”
“—then you have to be my escort. Pick me up at five. Night.” She cut the line.
Fuck my life.
Except, by escorting Norah, I’d be sticking it to Lydia. I wasn’t normally a vindictive person, but she was occupying way too much real estate in my head. Especially for someone I’d never really cared for. I just hadn’t wanted to be alone.
Perhaps the worst reason ever to be with someone.
At the moment, I was better off being alone rather than trying to find someone to replace Cooper. I could live on my memories for the next few months and then, when I was ready, start making preparations to come out. I worked in the entertainment industry, for fuck’s sake.
And Norah was a lovely young woman with a bright future. If she wanted me to escort her, then I would. She didn’t have feelings for me, just like I didn’t have feelings for her. Well, besides great admiration. She’d earned that.
Thursday night, I watched from the side as she posed provocatively for the cameras. Her shimmering satin emerald-green dress matched her eyes, while her red hair flowed down her back. She looked like a glamorous Hollywood starlet from the 1950s. With a style and grace that outshone most others—and yet she never lorded that over people. She was as down-to-earth as a young woman in her shoes could be. She didn’t haveriders on her contract making outlandish demands. She donated part of her salary to LGBTQ charities.
Her brother, who’d been bullied in high school for being gay, had eventually killed himself.
Norah spoke to as many young people as she could reach. For the gay kids to hang in there. For the bullies to back the fuck down. The former, I believed, had some effect. The latter was, I suspected, a waste of time.
She glanced over her shoulder at me.
I moved to her side.
She gave the cameras and reporters a little wave, and then we headed into the theater.
