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Grant was busy on his computer when the argument started down the hallway, from the direction of Cecil’s office. Cecil and some disgruntled underling, by the sound of it. He tried to tune it out and concentrate on the details of the estate agency that was for sale. He could probably afford it. Okay, so he’d need to take out a loan, but he was a good risk for one, and he was sure his bank manager would go for it.
The possibility of going it alone had taken over his mind since his falling-out with Dare. He had to do something constructive, after all, and since Dare had made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with the closeted Grant who worked for Cecil, he was focusing on resolving that whole situation.
Better to keep moving than to let himself fall into despair. That philosophy had seen him through all the hard times when he’d wanted to scream about feeling trapped in his marriage.
He’d got out of that—or at least, he would be soon, when the divorce went through—only to discover he’d also become trapped in his job.
But he could get out of his job. He just needed something ready to move into, then he’d hand in his notice. The thought gave him great satisfaction.
And then he’d head over to Dare’s and let him know he was a new man.
The voices grew louder as the argument moved from Cecil’s office to the hallway. Someone with a hint of an Italian accent—a contractor, maybe? But then Grant heard a gruff voice that was unmistakable.
Dare.
Grant leaped out of his chair and ran to the door. He flung it open and stood there, transfixed. Dare was looming over Cecil, dwarfing him with his bulk, and giving the man a good tongue-lashing. There was another smartly dressed man with them who Grant didn’t recognise. He would have taken him for one of Cecil’s business associates, but the way the man was glaring at Cecil suggested otherwise.
“This is a fucking insult,” Dare spat out, brandishing a piece of paper. “If you think I’d ever sign over my yard to a slug like you, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“If the money is a problem, we’d be willing to negotiate,” Cecil said smoothly, although his stance was hardly relaxed. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down reflexively, and he looked poised to bolt back to his office. Grant wasn’t surprised. Dare in a righteous fury was an intimidating—if glorious—spectacle, and he remembered how he’d felt being on the receiving end of one of his tirades.
“No negotiations. For fuck’s sake, are you deaf or something? Read my lips. It’s not. Going. To. Happen.” He enunciated each syllable deliberately, looming over Cecil. Grant watched Cecil wince as spittle landed on his face.
“I know some people,” Cecil began, his voice shaky. “They’ll be able to convince you what a good idea it would be. After all, it’s a dangerous line of work you’re in. Accidents happen.”
“For fuck’s sake. Tony?”
The other man stepped forward. He wasn’t particularly imposing physically, but something in his calm, unhurried manner definitely made him appear to be the one in charge.
“Now, now, Mr. Worthington, I’d be careful what you say to Mr. Nelson. You see”—Tony brushed imaginary lint off his immaculate jacket—“he’s got powerful friends. Friends your Mr. Campbell wouldn’t want to be upsetting now.” His Italian accent seemed to grow thicker as he spoke.
“Excuse me,” Cecil squeaked. “This lowlife? Connected?”
“Derek’s practically family, you know? I’ve known him since he was barely up to my knees,” Tony continued, as if Cecil hadn’t even spoken. “And you know what a man will do to protect his family. I’ll be paying a visit to your Mr. Campbell later and letting him know Mr. Nelson is a friend of the Giordano family. Then see how far your precious connection is willing to go. Come on, Derek, I’ve had enough of listening to this squeaking weasel.”
Dare’s nostrils flared, and he looked for all the world like he was about to punch Cecil in the face—a move Grant would have applauded right now. But he turned away and began walking down the hallway in Grant’s direction.
And then they locked eyes.
Dare stopped in his tracks.
“Grant.”
It was hard to know how to take that single word. It wasn’t a heartfelt declaration of love, but Dare didn’t sound angry anymore. Unsure, perhaps. But unsure of what?
Grant couldn’t tear his eyes off Dare’s. “I’m so sorry,” was the first thing that came to his lips. And it wasn’t enough, he could see. Dare shrugged impatiently and looked past Grant.
“Not now. We’ve got an audience,” was all he said in reply.
Grant turned to see what must have been the whole of his floor—and a few employees from the floor below—all huddled at the top of the stairs, avidly hanging on to their every word.
Lisa sidled up to Grant and whispered in his ear, “Careful. He’s a lunatic. Pushed his way past reception and wouldn’t stop for anyone.”
Grant brushed her off and stepped forward. His guts were tying themselves up in knots, but he had to do something to keep Dare there. To make him listen. “I want to put things right,” he said. “Please let me try to make it up to you.”
Dare stared at him. What did that closed-off expression mean? Was he fighting down his temper? Or just didn’t want to do this in front of everyone? Maybe this wasn’t the right time or place. Maybe he’d be better off letting Dare leave and calm down before he said anything else. He didn’t want to jeopardise a chance to make things right.
But he couldn’t just give up. He had to do something. Some little gesture to show Dare he was serious.
Heart pounding, Grant took another step forward. And another. Until he was standing toe to toe with Dare.
“Please,” he whispered. His head swam and his stomach protested queasily, but before he could bottle out of it, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Dare’s lips. Nothing passionate or sexy—not here and now—but he tried to put everything he wanted to say and couldn’t into that brush of lips.
He was vaguely aware of gasps of surprise from behind him, but his focus was on Dare. On the look on his face. Wondering, vulnerable, then closed off again.
“I have to go,” Dare said, and he made good on his word. He didn’t stop. Not when Grant clutched at his sleeve, or called out after him.
Leaving Grant standing there, in the hallway, with his boss and his workmates all staring at him. He gathered up his self-esteem as best he could and gave them all a smile. “So, I suppose I don’t need to make a grand announcement or start wearing a rainbow pin after all. Now you know.”
“Grant? What’s going on?” That was Lisa, speaking in a low voice. “You’re not one of...them, are you?”
“What, like your son? Yes, I am.”
“But I thought...” She flushed and shook her head as if he’d disappointed her, and continued in an angry whisper. “I can’t believe you’ve let yourself be led into sin.”
Somewhere deep down inside Grant, righteous fury started to boil. “It’s not a sin. It’s who I am. That’s why I split with my wife. I’m gay, and I’m tired of living a lie. I’m not interested in women, not in that way. And even if I was, I certainly wouldn’t be interested hooking up with a homophobic bigot.”
Her face crumpled, and Grant had a pang of guilt, but really, after all the crap she’d said about her son, he really wasn’t in the mood to sympathise.
“Mr. Matravers,” Cecil hissed from behind him. “Into my office. Now!”
Grant turned from Lisa and stared at his boss. His soon-to-be-ex boss. The man didn’t scare him anymore. Not now he’d seen the way Cecil had practically pissed himself with fear when Dare and Tony had been there. “No,” Grant said. “If you’ve got something to say to me, say it out here.”
Cecil gaped, and then his face hardened. Grant realised what was coming. Shit. He had to get in first.
“Actually, it doesn’t matter what you have to say, because I’m handing in my notice. I wouldn’t work for a man who threatens potential clients with his supposed underworld connections.”
“Good!” Cecil snarled. “Because that saves me the bother of firing you for gross misconduct!”
“Gross misconduct? As if. I haven’t done anything wrong, and there’s about twenty witnesses to that fact.”
“You were fraternising with a client in the hallway.”
“Not my client. You took that case away from me. And not your client either, because he’s never going to sell to you.”
“Get out now, before I call security!” Cecil yelled, and watching him lose his cool was immensely satisfying. “Don’t even bother working out your notice. I don’t want degenerates like you working for me.”
There was a collective gasp from the group at the end of the hall. Grant noticed Si was among them—the discreet but definitely gay man from accounts. His expression was mutinous, and as Grant walked down to his office, he pondered whether he could poach Si to help him run his own business. He’d need someone great with numbers on board.
In his office, Grant took one last look around. He’d worked hard to make his way up here, with a cityscape view and all this floor space. Wherever he worked in the future, it wasn’t likely to be anywhere near as luxurious. But that didn’t really matter, because the place would be his, and he wouldn’t have to kowtow to Cecil.
He packed up his meagre belongings—his laptop and iPad, and most importantly, the photo of Izzy and Charlie from the top of his desk.
“Sorry, girls,” he said to them. “Hope you don’t end up having to move house because of me and my big mouth.”
His briefcase bulging, Grant took the walk of shame down the corridor outside. Except it wasn’t shame he felt when he looked into his colleagues’ faces and found a mixture of respect and sorrow in those who would meet his gaze. He even had a few people clap him on the back and say they were sorry to see him leave. By the time he marched out the front doors of Montague-Worthington’s, he was walking on air.
He thought he’d found freedom in bottoming for Dare, but this was a different kind of freedom. Everything felt light. The world filled with possibility.
Now all he had to do was track down Dare and make amends. He’d be able to make things up again. He had to. The alternative of a life without Dare in it wasn’t something he was willing to contemplate.
But he didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. This was a conversation that needed to happen face-to-face. And fortunately, Grant knew just how to find Dare. He knew Dare probably wouldn’t appreciate Grant going behind his back again, but he figured just this once, he’d be forgiven. He pulled out his phone and called up his newly downloaded spyware app.