Chapter Four

 

Rivet’s fingers fumbled with the touchscreen on his phone, trying to scroll down his very short contact list. Finally getting his phone to cooperate, he touched the name “Jonas” and touched “call” and held his breath, hoping it would work. Words began to type on the screen.

Connecting… Call connected.

I see Donovan gave you the phone.

“Yes, he did. I am unsure on how to work it properly.”

You have accomplished calling. That is taken care of.

“I’ll brave the other thousands of applications this phone can do later, possibly never.” Rivet looked at the screen and took a breath. “Jonas…” he trailed off, not really knowing what he was going to say, but desperately wanting to talk to his best friend. Only friend, he thought darkly.

They sent you back to your mother’s.

Rivet stayed quiet. No need to answer when Jonas had already figured it out.

I told them not to, that it was ill-advised. What has happened?

He licked his lips. “Don’t worry about it—Nothing, nothing happened.”

Do not lie to me.

“I know you’re working and shouldn’t be bothered. That is not why I contacted you, anyway.”

I will speak to them about your location.

Rivet could hear Jonas’s strong voice in his head, finality in his tone. “A lost battle. Is your case going well?”

As well as can be expected. Why are you nervous?

Rivet gave a half smile even though he knew Jonas couldn’t see him. “What makes you say that?”

Do you desire a list?

He took a deep breath and picked at his thumb with the fingers from the same hand. “I got asked on a date.”

…Really?

“Are you smiling?” he asked, frowning. He never knew Jonas to hesitate. “You are smiling.”

I do not smile.

“Not usually, no. But, anyway, yes.” He smiled and shook his head.

I assume you agreed?

“I said yes.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. “His name is Blare Chaplynn. Don’t bother doing a background check.”

And why not?

He fixed his phone with a pointed look. “There’s no reason to.”

Sure. Sure.

“Focus on your case, Jonas. That is more important.”

That is where you are wrong. Very wrong.

Rivet frowned at the words on the screen. “Excuse me? I don’t understand.”

You have to realize that you are more important than this job, Rivet.

He didn’t say anything, but shut his eyes briefly and shook his head.

One day, my friend. One day.

“I don’t want to keep you too long. I know I have taken you out of character, and I don’t want to be the reason your cover is blown.”

Do not worry, I am at headquarters reporting. I would much rather talk to you than report my insignificant findings.

“I’m flattered, really.” He rolled his eyes and snorted.

I mean it.

He bit his lip and changed the subject. “How long do they have you working this job?”

Not too long. It is a reconnaissance mission.

“What intelligence do they have you gathering?”

I would tell you, but I am on a strict no-work-conversing order with you from Donovan. I have to agree. It would be more beneficial for your health if you were not stressed, which brings me back to the fact that I need to have words with Donovan.

“Leave it alone, Jonas.”

No. I will call you in a few days. Call me immediately if anything transpires, good or bad. Understood?

“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Be strong and keep true to who you are. I will speak to you another time.

“Until then, Jonas. Be safe.”

You as well.

Call ended.

Rivet looked around his meticulously clean room as he set his phone on the bed next to his leg. He walked over to his closet and opened the door to shuffle though the clothes that hung in there.

“What to wear?” he mumbled to himself. I have no freaking idea what to wear. Pants. Start with pants. His eyes glanced over his minuscule selection of pants and chose the newest pair of boot-cut jeans. Is a collared shirt and tie too much? Hmm, probably. Comfort, let’s go with comfort… So what am I comfortable in? Rivet sighed and shook his head, walking backward and sitting on the edge of his bed. He had very few clothes that were specifically his and not one of his disguises. “Be yourself, be yourself. That is the problem, Jonas; I’m unaware of who I am.”

He glared at his clothes as if they had personally offended him. He sighed as he stood up from his bed and walked back to his closet. He decided to wing it and grabbed a pair of dark-washed jeans, a light button-up shirt, and a formfitting tank top to wear underneath. He threw on the clothes, leaving the button-up unbuttoned. He shoved his feet in his shoes and grabbed his wallet and keys.

Stepping out into the hallway, he locked his door behind him. He shuffled down the stairs sideways, barely able to fit between the ever-growing hoard. He stopped in the doorway of the living room on his way to the front door. “You and Mother are on your own for lunch.” He called to Rachel over the sound of the TV.

“Why?”

“I will not be here.” He scrunched his nose at the unclean air hanging in the house, burning his airway.

“That’s obvious, dipshit. Where are you going?”

He clenched his teeth and fought the anger rising in his chest. After a calm breath, he answered evenly. “What business is it of yours? I was being considerate and letting you know that you have to get lunch yourself.”

Rachel snorted harshly. “Yeah, some good Samaritan you are. What is Ma and I supposed to eat?”

“You can prepare something.”

“There isn’t any food here, retard.”

“The grocery store is open.”

She held out her hand to him. “Give me money.”

He stepped away from her hand. “Excuse me? No. You have money.”

“I don’t. Spent it.”

He looked at his watch. “On what?” Rivet mumbled, not really wanting her to answer. He took a breath to clear the fluttering in his chest. “You will figure it out. I’ll return later.” He walked toward the door, patting his back pocket for his wallet and cell phone. He opened the front door only to have it slammed shut, clipping the fingers of his left hand, despite his reflexes.

“So you’re leaving Ma and me to starve—for what?” she snapped, brows furrowed fiercely.

He looked over his shoulder at her, glaring. “What is my outing to you?” he asked sharply, hoping she would just let it go. She looked straight into his eyes and sneered. His hope deflated.

“You’re going on a date, aren’t you? Whoring yourself out now?”

He turned his gaze to the door in front of him, gazing at the splinters and cracks in the paint. His hands started to go numb with each hot breath he could feel at his back from Rachel. Breathe, Rivet. Don’t listen to anything she says. Breathe. Wait for her to move her hand and just—

He started when his head was yanked back by harsh fingers in his hair.

Rachel leaned in so her face was right next to his ear.

“You’ll die a scarred freak, alone and unloved. Do you honestly believe anybody could ever be attracted to you?” She tauntingly raised her hand from the door, allowing Rivet to hurry to his truck.

He could faintly hear Rachel yelling something at him. His hands shook, and he dropped his keys twice trying to unlock the driver’s door. Sucking in a breath, he held it for a few seconds and slowly released it. He unlocked the door and clambered into the cab of his truck. Placing his hands on either side of his head, he leaned forward in his seat.

“You’re okay, okay, okay,” he whispered, barely audible. He straightened up just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Raising his hips so he could have access to his back pocket, he saw he received a text message from Jonas.

Breathe. Do not think excessively.

Rivet set the phone in the passenger’s seat, not wanting to try to figure out how to send a reply.

“Get a hold of yourself. Now go before Blare believes you to be standing him up.” Rivet started his truck and pulled out onto the street. He made quick work of the few scant miles between him and the café.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the front door of the establishment in a disguised rush. His eyes scanned the occupants of the diner. Seven… eight females. Four males… five. There’s Blare. He walked around a few tables and shuffled by a few occupied chairs before he arrived at the back booth Blare currently occupied.

“Hey, you made it.” Blare’s smile was sincere, and his amber eyes sparkled.

“Hello.” He smiled sheepishly and slid into the seat opposite him. “I apologize for my tardiness.”

Blare smirked, a coquettish glint in his eyes. “You’ll just have to make it up to me by trying their new chocolate strawberry cake and letting me have some.”

“Consider it done.”

Blare laughed and glanced down at his menu.

He saw Blare pretending to study the menu out of the corner of his eye and figured it was his turn to pick up the conversation. “What do you recommend from the menu?”

“Everything.” They shared a laugh, but Blare elaborated. “What type of food are you in the mood for? Sandwich? Soup? Salad? Pasta?”

He thought for a moment. “Sandwich, I believe.”

Blare gently eased Rivet’s menu down and pointed to a description. “If you’re a red-meat eater, they have an awesome bacon cheeseburger. The sauce they use is sweet and spicy.” He paused and moved his finger to another description. “Or they have an equally awesome turkey panini with fresh peppers and veggies with mozzarella cheese and basil pesto.”

Rivet nodded. “I think that’s what I will order.”

Blare sipped his drink. “I hope Owen didn’t weird you out too bad. He’s pretty forward.” Blare shrugged. “I guess that’s why we’re friends.”

Rivet shook his head, a small smile quirking the ends of his lips. “No, I’ve had much more peculiar requests of me in the past.”

Blare smiled. “There are interesting stories behind that statement.”

“Very much so,” he said.

“Today’s my lucky day,” said the waitress as she came to a stop at the end of their table. “It isn’t every day I get two handsome men in my section, let alone at the same table.” She smiled, twinkling eyes focused on Rivet. “My name’s Danielle, and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you something to drink?”

“May I have water, please?” asked Rivet.

“Of course,” said Danielle. She moved her eyes from Rivet to Blare. “Are you both ready to order?” she asked. “Or do you need some time?”

“We’re ready,” said Blare.

“Okay, what can I get you?”

Blare glanced at him.

Rivet nodded for Blare to order first.

“I’ll have the sirloin with mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and green beans, please.”

She smiled and jotted down his order. “I like people who aren’t afraid to eat.” She turned to Rivet. “And for you?”

“I’ll have the turkey panini, ma’am.”

She scribbled down his order, glancing up at him. “That comes with the house salad and fries, is that okay?”

“Of course,” he said.

“All righty,” she said and put her pad in the pocket of her apron, “I’ll grab your drink and put both of your orders in.” She gave a smile and walked to a different table.

“Owen and you seem close,” said Rivet.

Blare nodded and smiled. “Oh yeah, definitely. We’ve known each other since we were in grade school.”

Rivet raised his eyebrows. “That long? It’s admirable that the connection you two have is so strong.”

“We can bicker with the best of ’em, but we see each other as siblings.” Blare paused and chuckled. “Our parents do too. Have you had a long friendship?”

Rivet nodded. “His name is Jonas. I would consider him my best friend.”

“How long have you known each other?”

Rivet paused and licked his lips, thinking. “Since I was sixteen, so I believe about seven years.”

Blare took a sip of his drink, widening his eyes. “Wow, so did you guys meet at school?”

“He’s about ten years my senior.” He shook his head. “Our meeting was more of a happenstance that turned into friendship.”

“Here you go, hun,” said Danielle as she placed a glass of ice water in front of Rivet.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome. Your orders should be out soon, okay?” she said, making sure to move her eyes to Blare’s to include him in the conversation.

“Thanks.” Blare smiled.

“You and Owen are in the same industry,” he said, trying to get away from the circumstances of his and Jonas’ relationship. “Did you attend the same college?”

“Yup. Owen knew what he wanted to major in and what college he wanted to go to, so I just followed.” Blare glanced down at the table, smoothing out his napkin. “He has his bachelor’s, and since I dropped out of college, I’m a bit ahead of him in the industry. Granted, I’m only in it as a fluke.”

“You don’t want to finish college?” asked Rivet.

Blare lifted a shoulder. “Eh, I don’t see the point. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, and I doubt I ever will. It might seem lazy, but I make good money right now and I’ve only scratched the surface of the modeling industry. Why mess with a good thing?”

“I understand.”

“My parents didn’t at first. They told me that settling would make me miserable. I didn’t really like modeling at first, but I dealt with it. I can’t say that I have grown to love it, but I’ve grown to like it enough. My schedule is pretty flexible, and I get to choose what I want to do. Not many people can say that.”

Rivet nodded. “Many people don’t have the luxury to have a choice. Some people just need a job to get by or have a certain skillset that requires them to work where they do not wish to.”

“Exactly,” said Blare, nodding. “Exactly.”

“I come bearing gifts,” said Danielle, a tray with their food on it balanced on her hand and a fold-up stand tucked under her arm. She set the stand down, placing the tray on top. She passed the dishes out and stepped back from the table. “Anything else I can get either of you?”

“No, thank you,” he said.

Blare shook his head with a smile.

“Enjoy, gentlemen,” said Danielle. She picked up her tray and the stand and walked away.

Rivet picked up half of his sandwich and bit into it. The flavors danced across his tongue in perfect harmony. His eyes flicked to Blare as he chewed. Blare ate like a paradox, quickly but savoring each bite that crossed his tongue. Rivet marveled at how someone could pull off such a feat.

The day seemed to be a juxtaposition to Rivet and his brain was sure to short-circuit soon with all of the counterevidence he had been receiving today alone in comparison with his life thus far.

“How is your food?” asked Blare.

“Very good,” he said. “How is yours?”

“Amazing,” said Blare and licked his lips.

Rivet watched the slow drag of Blare’s tongue across his lips before he forced his eyes to his own plate. Then there was that. To his knowledge, he has never felt this level of attraction to anybody, nor any sort of connection. He finished his food as Blare finished his drink.

“That was good,” said Blare.

Rivet nodded, giving himself time to finish chewing. “I agree.”

Danielle walked up to the table. “Did we save any room for something sweet today?”

“Yes,” said Rivet and glanced quickly at Blare. “We would like to share a slice of your chocolate strawberry cake.”

The waitress smiled. “Delicious choice. I’ll go put that order in. Would you like me to take the dishes out of your way?”

“Yes, please,” said Blare, handing his plate to the waitress.

“Yours too?” asked Danielle.

Rivet handed her his empty plate. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be right back with the dessert.” Danielle turned and walked away.

Blare trailed his finger down the side of his glass, leaving a stripe in the condensation. “It’s refreshing to have a conversation with someone who knows I’m a model, but doesn’t revolve around which designer is better.”

Rivet looked at him, unsure how to respond.

“All of my friends are in the industry and they speak the jargon and love clothes and shopping. I never wanted to learn and it frustrates many designers I work with.”

“I imagine people with your outlook wouldn’t be common,” he said.

Blare shook his head. “Definitely not. Many are in it because it’s what they want to do and learn and,” he paused and smirked, “breathe.”

“What advantage would knowing the jargon and other semantics have?” asked Rivet.

Blare tapped his lips with his fingers. “You know, I don’t know. I don’t really think there would be one unless you were planning on becoming a designer.” Blare shook his head. “Many of the models just want to model or act, not design.”

“I understand.”

“Here is your little slice of sin,” said Danielle with a soft giggle as she placed the large plate in the middle of the table. She pulled her arms back and pulled a billfold from her apron. “Here is the not-so-desirable. Take your time, gentlemen,” said Danielle as she placed it with the receipt at the end of the table and left them to the dessert.

“After you,” said Rivet, motioning for him to take the first bite.

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Blare, scooping some cake and ice cream onto his spoon.

Rivet scooped his own portion onto his spoon and took a bite. Much like his food, the cake was made very well.

“This cake is fantastic,” said Blare, going in for another bite.

Rivet nodded his ascent. “Very delicious.”

They shared the generous slice of cake and ice cream in silence, smiling when one was caught staring at the other.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” asked Blare as most of the dessert was gone.

“I don’t have any,” he said and took another bite of the cake. “I am positive my mother will find something for me to do.”

Blare nodded. “Don’t mothers always?”

Rivet nodded silently and took another bite of cake, savoring the sweetness on his tongue. “What are your plans?”

“I have a photo shoot. Speaking of,” Blare paused and checked the time on his phone before slipping it back into his pocket, “I need to be toddling off to that pretty soon.”

“Of course,” said Rivet, the sink of disappointment tugging at his heart.

“I had fun,” said Blare, his smile twinkling in his amber eyes. “You’re a very interesting man, Rivet.”

“I must admit, I’m pleased Owen stopped me yesterday, or we wouldn’t have had today.”

Blare smiled wider, staring into his eyes.

He fought not to fidget as it appeared Blare was searching for something.

Blare looked away, his smile never faltering as he grabbed the billfold.

Rivet shifted and pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

“No, no.” Blare’s soft hand settled on his arm. “I invited you, so I get to pay.”

“It isn’t a problem—”

“Yes it is, now hush. You can pick up the tab on the next one.”

He nodded. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

“Thank you for lunch. While the food was quite delicious, your company was exquisite,” said Rivet softly, forcing himself to keep Blare’s gaze to show his sincerity.

“And thank you for accepting my invitation,” said Blare, handing the billfold to the waitress as she passed.

“Don’t be strangers, gentlemen,” said Danielle.

Don’t be strangers, indeed, thought Rivet.