“You want to start divorce proceedings, Mr Morris?”
“Yes. It’s been two years since my husband and I split up, which I understand is the time to file for divorce.”
He wasn’t sure why he was nervous. It wasn’t like Grant was listening. Jason had changed his number when he moved back to London, so Grant had no way of contacting him, although he knew if the man wanted to find Jason, it wouldn’t take him long. There had been no contact from Grant since the moment he asked Jason to leave. Now it was time to put this part of his life in the history books.
“Do you have the contact details for your husband?”
“We haven’t spoken in two years, so I have no idea if he’s still in the same place.”
Grant didn’t use social media, so there was no way for Jason to obsessively stalk his ex. There was little to be found about him. The man was practically a ghost, which Jason knew was deliberate.
“Give us the details you have and we’ll start there. Do you think he’ll contest the divorce?”
“Does it matter? We’re at the two year mark. It’s not like I want anything from him, and he’s the one with the money.”
“It matters a lot, Mr Morris. Your husband has to agree to the divorce.”
“I thought you had to be apart for two years to get divorced.”
“That is true when the divorce is not contested. If your husband contests the divorce, you’re looking at five years.”
Five years?
He’d kept this a secret from all his friends bar Charlie for two years, and now she was saying he might have to do it for another three? Langdon would never forgive Jason if he found out. He couldn’t bear to lose his big brother. Langdon being in his life made him feel safe.
“Do you think your husband will be difficult and contest the divorce?”
This was Grant Kincaid. There was no doubt in Jason’s mind he would make this as difficult as possible, especially when he found out he was living with Langdon. This meeting had been a waste of time and money; Jason was fucked!
CHAPTER 3
PATRICK
Patrick was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything, and he knew who was to blame – a certain blond brat called Jason. It had been three weeks since their first meeting, and in that time, Sebastian had been through the mill with Charlie. Even with all that drama going on, Patrick couldn’t get Jason out of his head. It was making him feel guilty about George, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to Jason. What Patrick saw was a boy in pain, who was in desperate need of a daddy. Could Patrick be that for him, and did Jason even want it?
His investigation into Grant Kincaid had occupied him for a couple of days, but that guy was untouchable. There was a connection to the Moretti family in Boston, so Patrick had made some discreet enquiries. He knew Sebastian was aware of the Moretti’s through business dealings, but he didn’t want to involve his friend in this. Patrick had put it to one side and thrown himself into his work, but his mind would always wander back to Jason.
Patrick had considered calling him a few times. He’d updated the name in his phone from “body for pounding” to “Jason.” Still, he hadn’t made that call. What was wrong with him? Patrick never hesitated over anything. He was a daddy,for fuck’s sake – taking charge was what he did – but with Jason, he was conflicted. George was always in his thoughts, but he was also apprehensive about Jason rejecting him. Sebastian had been clear that from what he knew Jason didn’t date anyone, and he slept around a lot. It was self-destructive behaviour and not uncommon in young gay men. What had happened in his past? Who had hurt such a beautiful boy? He had such a cheeky smile, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. He would be a handful, and Patrick wanted to take on that challenge.
Instead of going back and forth in his head, he could orchestrate a meeting. Patrick had some contacts who were based in the same building as Jason, but there were fifty floors, so the chance of him timing his arrival or departure so they would bump into each other was unlikely. He’d need to think about this carefully, and push aside his conscience, which told him he was acting like a deranged stalker!
Before he could spiral any further, his assistant, Milo, bounced into his office. He was a sweet young man, like an excitable puppy, and always spearheading the latest cause. Patrick cared about things going in the world, but Milo was the one who was leading the charge at every protest march.
“What is it, Milo?”
“Can you meet Christine at five o’clock? You have that block in your diary you told me not to book over, but it’s the only time she can do. I know you wanted to talk to her today.”
The block in his diary was for him to leave early and stroll slowly past Jason’s office hoping to bump into him. But Christine was his boss, and he needed her to give him the all clear on a story they wanted to run about a politician. As editor, the last call was always his, but when it crossed into politics, he always looped the owner in. She was very hands off, but also well connected. She would ensure that if they lit abonfire in Whitehall, it wouldn’t be her team who got burned. Jason would have to wait.
Patrick walked around the flat, taking it all in. The place was stunning and wouldn’t leave him much change out of two million quid, but he only intended to rent it for twelve months. He wanted to be sure before he committed for the long term. He’d sold his house, but didn’t want to buy another place straight away. It had been right to say goodbye to his old marital home given the painful memories, but leaving the village that had been their home for a decade was a different story. It had been bought by first-time buyers – a young family – so the sale could proceed quickly if Patrick got out of there soon. The couple hadn’t been the highest bidder, but he loved the idea of a young family having the place. Neither Patrick nor George had wanted their own children. Patrick was just happy being the fun uncle for his sister’s kids. Well, George had been the fun uncle. Patrick was the sensible one who bought them educational gifts. They were missing George as well. Too young to fully understand what had happened, but old enough to know he wasn’t coming back.
This flat was just what he needed. There were two bedrooms, one of which would work as a home office. The open-plan living wasn’t to his taste, but everything he’d seen in this part of London was laid out the same. The view right over the River Thames was perfect, and he’d only be a short walk over the bridge to work in the city. This would do as home for a while before he made some decisions.
Patrick agreed to the terms with the letting agent and got the process moving. It was available immediately, so he could take his time moving the contents of his house over. Walking back along the river to the office, he was lost in his thoughts and didn’t hear his name being called at first. A pull on hisarm had him turning round and his heart rate shot up. It was Jason.
“Hello, Jason. How are you?”
“You were in your own world then,” said Jason.
