Chapter Four
“Whoa.” On the screen of Rafa’s iPad in the Skype window, Ashleigh’s jaw dropped. “Did I step into a time machine? Are you back in the White House?”
“What?” Rafa fidgeted on the patio chair, resisting the urge to touch his hair. He fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie instead. “Looks like you got a haircut too. I love it! Did you dye it? It’s still blond, but…” He squinted at the screen.
Grinning, she turned her head left and right, showing off the sleek bob that swayed just under her chin. “Thank you, and yeah, did burgundy undertones. It’s all the rage right now, and I have to keep on the cutting edge, of course. Also, nice deflection from your retro hair.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you wearing chinos? Stand up.”
“No! Actually, I’m in my underwear.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “In that case, definitely stand up.”
His laughter helped chip away at the block of ice in his chest that had formed steadily since he’d said goodbye to Shane the day before. He peered around at the dark neighboring houses, the sky turning a light gray on the horizon. “I should go inside, actually. Don’t want anyone to overhear. And it’s freezing out here.” When he hadn’t been able to get back to sleep, he’d craved the fresh air.
“Hasn’t it been months since you’ve had paps skulking in the bushes?”
“Yeah, but better safe than sorry. Hold on.” He grabbed his iPad and hurried inside, carefully locking the sliding door behind him and putting the length of wood in place on the metal track. Shane had sawed the piece of lumber himself and called it old-school security.
Kicking off his flip-flops, he shivered and went through to the living room. He grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the couch before settling himself.
“You should still be in bed anyway, shouldn’t you?” She raised a sculpted eyebrow. A delicate silver chain necklace rested against the tops of her collarbones, and her scoop-necked blouse was black. On the wall behind her desk was a huge framed fashion magazine.
“Yes, but…” He sighed. “It’s actually weird being here alone. This is literally the first night in my entire life I have been in a house totally alone. I heard a noise, and I had to get up and figure out what it was.”
“And?”
“I still don’t know, so I’m sure it was nothing.” He glanced over at the empty dining room. “Nothing was out of place, and all the doors and windows are locked. It’s not like kidnappers are coming after me again. It’s stupid to be paranoid. I mean, I’m a guy.”
Ashleigh smiled sympathetically. “Trust me, as a woman, I’ve done the ‘what was that noise?’ dance plenty of times. And you’re allowed to be a little nervous. Men are actually permitted to experience a range of emotions without being deemed ‘womanly.’ Just for the record.”
“You’re right, as usual.”
She sat up straighter, the top of her head disappearing. “Excuse me? ‘Usual’? No, no, that would be ‘always.’ Okay, except that one time on January twentieth of last year. Approximately three-twelve p.m. Other than that, I’m always right.”
“I stand corrected.” He chuckled. Ashleigh always had a way of making him feel better. “Seen any good Renaissance exhibits lately?”
She smiled at their old code they’d used when they were closeted. “Sadly, I’ve been too busy working twelve-hour days to find a woman to talk Botticelli with. At least you’re riding your Harley daily now.”
He grinned. “Yeah. It’s pretty amazing.”
Ashleigh glanced left and right. “If I wasn’t at work, I’d ask for details. No one’s around right now, but still. Alas.”
“Isn’t Skyping at work risky? I didn’t expect you to answer. I assume Miranda’s not in the office.” Ashleigh’s boss was really named Chyler something, but they never referred to her by her real name.
“Obvi.” She sipped yellowy soup from a spoon. “Miranda frowns upon any sort of break at lunch. Not to mention the consumption of food. Fortunately for us minions, she’s in LA at the moment.” With a roll of her eyes, she added, “This morning she called me from the back of her chauffeured Town Car to ask for last-minute lunch reservations at the hottest spot in Beverly Hills. I guess she was feeling contemplative, and she was all, ‘These people in Beverly Hills, they’re not like you and me, Ashleigh. This is real wealth.’ She just loves to think of herself as one of the little people. As if Miranda and I are on the same level somehow. I mean, she just bought a horse.”
“Wow. How much does a horse cost?”
“Well, since I looked at the bill of sale, I can tell you this one was a hundred and twenty-five grand. Let’s just say that if you compare that to my salary, that horse is significantly more valued. I don’t think Finian’s Glory will have to survive on ramen either.”
Concern laced with guilt tugged at Rafa. “Are you sure I can’t lend you some money?”
Ashleigh’s mouth tightened. “I’m positive. Babe, you and your family have already done so much for me. Chris and Hadley take me out to dinner every couple weeks, and I wouldn’t even have this job if it wasn’t for Hadley. Or the Vogue internship your dad scored me last year in Paris. I’m doing fine. My roommates are cool. I’ll make a livable wage eventually. Besides, it’s my choice to spend my money on doing my hair and stuff like that.”
“Yeah, but in your job you have to. My trust fund—”
“Is yours. Besides, aren’t you stressing about not ‘paying your own way’?” She’d lifted her fingers in air quotes, red nail polish gleaming, and now they dropped out of frame. “Even though Shane doesn’t mind?”
He squirmed. “Yes. It’s just… I’ve never had to worry about money—I know how lucky I am. But I don’t want to be a kid who can’t support himself. I want to be a man. Equal, you know?”
“I get it. But you will be! You’re going to be a fabulous chef with a fabulous career.”
“I hope so.” He shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Ashleigh swallowed a mouthful of soup and said, “Don’t let your folks shake your confidence. Even if that’s not their intention, we both know what a number parents can do on our heads.”
More guilt flooded him. At least his parents had supported him when he came out. “Have you heard from them at all?”
She shrugged, lips pressed into a tight, toothless smile. “It is what it is. I always knew when I came out, they’d freak. It doesn’t fit in their tidy little Christian plans to have a lesbo daughter. They’re hoping it’s a phase and I’ll come to my senses. They blame you, of course. Like it was catching or something.” She shrugged again, and Rafa longed to hug her. She said, “Anyway. Back to you. Look, I know it’s going to be…challenging to see your folks again. But chill. Breathe. Be yourself.”
“I know. I will.” Still, his cheeks went hot, and he couldn’t stop himself from touching his hair, which he’d had cut to a couple of inches, the ends just waving. “But my hair was getting too long—it was in my eyes.” That wasn’t a lie, at least.
“Okay.” She took another sip of soup and watched him patiently.
He sighed. “Look, I know it’s stupid, but I just don’t want us to fight about my hair.”
“Wasn’t it more your issue than theirs? Have they said anything about it the past few months?”
“No, but we have enough contentious stuff to deal with.”
A sly smile tugged her red lips. “Like your Secret Service agent lovah?” She dropped the teasing tone. “Speaking of, I got your text about him having to go back to DC. That blows, babe.”
“Yeah.” He tried to smile it off, but in the little window in the corner of the screen he could see it was more of a grimace. “The timing sucks. But he’s going to come back as soon as he can. Just go and testify, crash at his friend Darnell’s, then back on a plane.”
“Cool. Darnell’s the cop, right?”
“Uh-huh. He seems nice. Really funny.” He also seemed very…adult, but Rafa didn’t voice that. He was supposed to be a grown-up too.
Ashleigh’s gaze went distant, and she nodded and called to someone, “Yes, that envelope, please. Overnight delivery. Thanks.” She looked back to Rafa. “I’d better get back to work. The office is quiet right now since most of them are in LA, but Miranda still has her spies.”
“Thanks for picking up when I called. I needed the pep talk.” He glanced at the time. “My cab’s coming soon anyway. Their flight gets in just after six.”
“I thought you got a car?”
“I did, but they’ll have an armored limo. They still have their security detail and all that. Not as many agents as before, but when they travel there’s still an advanced team, and a detail with them and one behind. As time goes by, they’ll probably have fewer agents, but for now, they still get threats and stuff.” He snorted. “Besides, I can’t see my mom squeezing into my little used Toyota hatchback with Dad, Matty, and an agent.”
Ashleigh laughed. “Now there’s a mental image. Maybe an agent could sit on her lap. She might enjoy it.”
“On that note…”
They blew kisses to each other, and the call ended. Snuggled under the velvety blanket, Rafa wished he could stay there and not face the day. But hiding wouldn’t solve anything, so he reluctantly got up.
He wandered to the kitchen and opened the fridge, but his stomach was too acidy to think of eating. In the bedroom, he opened the closet and eyed his side. It was mostly jeans and shorts, his massive collection of T-shirts shoved in his drawers in the dresser. But there was one pair of chinos hanging there, neatly pressed and waiting.
Squaring his shoulders, he went for jeans, but traded his tee and hoodie for a green button-up shirt, leaving the ends untucked. He checked the time and padded back to the kitchen. Still had twenty minutes.
Being completely alone overnight was strange. Somehow it felt different than during the day. Before Shane had left for the airport the previous morning, he’d told Rafa for the hundredth time to lock all the doors and windows and call the Australian version of 911, which Rafa had programmed in his phone in case he panicked and forgot it. Shane had even toyed with installing a security system, but they were only renting the house.
Rafa smiled to himself, running his fingers over one of Shane’s suits hanging in the closet. He’d convinced Shane there was no need to be paranoid, but he had to admit that when he was completely alone and didn’t keep his mind occupied, it did start to wander and spin out what-if scenarios. Everything from the return of his kidnappers to a random burglary circled his mind.
The memory of waking in the pitch black of that cramped metal box spiked his pulse, his breath catching. His therapist had given him deep-breathing exercises, and he did them now, inhaling and exhaling steadily. Most of the time, he was okay. But in the small hours of the night and morning, when the world was silent and still, it was harder.
Feeling foolish but unable to resist, he buried his face in the dark fabric of the suit Shane had worn to his business dinner the other day. Shane’s cologne lingered faintly—a woodsy sweetness—along with a hint of his body, the musk that was all him and like no one else.
Rafa inhaled deeply. Everything was all right. It would be awesome to see his parents and brother again. He didn’t have to freak out. But as he shut the closet, his stomach knotted. It was the first time he’d be truly face-to-face with his Mom and Dad since he’d called to tell them the truth about his relationship with Shane. Did they really accept it?
He was about to find out.
“Rafa! Where’s Shane?”
“Uh…” Just inside the terminal, he stared at the young woman rushing toward him with a cameraman in tow. Shit, was he already so out of practice with the media that he couldn’t even get “no comment” out of his mouth?
Fortunately, a middle-aged woman sporting a crisp pantsuit, her dark hair pulled into a bun, appeared seemingly from nowhere and blocked the reporter’s path. “Mr. Castillo won’t be speaking to the media. Thank you.”
As the American reporter shouted more questions, Rafa gratefully let the Secret Service agent lead him away, a man in a suit and earpiece following behind them, familiar sunglasses tucked into his breast pocket.
Rafa had worn a windbreaker since it was still chilly when he’d left the house, but now sweat gathered on the back of his neck. He unzipped his jacket and slung it over his arm, aware of dozens of eyes on him, people gathering in the terminal for private planes despite the security trying to shoo them away.
Running a hand over his hair to make sure the pomade was keeping everything in place, Rafa cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
The woman smiled professionally. “Of course. I’m Agent Hernandez, and this is Agent O’Leary. Why don’t you wait in the car while your parents have their photo ops? The flight was a little early, and your brother’s already there.”
“Oh, great.”
The armored limo was parked in an otherwise-empty hangar. The agent standing by the vehicle nodded and opened the door, and Rafa climbed in and took the seat opposite Matthew, who raised his chin from his chest and blinked blearily, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes. He said, “Hey, bro.” The partition between them and the driver was closed, and the distant roar of jet engines was even more muted in the limo.
“Hey, Matty.” After a few awkward beats, they stretched across the space and hugged briefly, Matthew’s left arm held snug to his body in a sling that also had a strap around his midsection. The black of the sling was stark against his white hoodie. Rafa perched on the edge of the seat and asked, “Does it hurt?” His cheeks went hot. “Stupid question.”
Matthew’s small smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay. Yeah, it hurts like a mother. Doc said surgery went well, but I guess we’ll see. Have to wear this stupid thing for a month. Even when I’m sleeping.” He stretched his neck from side to side with a groan. “I shouldn’t complain since we had a private plane, but fuck, that was a long flight.”
In his pocket, Rafa’s phone buzzed, and he eagerly read the message from Shane. “Speaking of, Shane’s in LA now. Waiting for his connection to DC. It seems like he left so long ago.”
“Miss him already?” Matthew asked with a smirk.
Rafa blinked at the cruel-edged tone. “Yeah, I guess. Lame, I know.”
“No, don’t listen to me.” He rubbed his red-rimmed eyes. “I’m cranky and exhausted, and Natalie dumped me, so.”
“Shit, sorry.” Rafa desperately tried to remember which one Natalie was. Another swimmer, perhaps? Matthew seemed to have a lot of girlfriends in quick succession.
“Don’t be. She loved dating a star swimmer. Now that I might be done, she blew me off.” He picked up his phone from the leather seat beside him. “Jesus, they are taking forever. I need to crash.”
“How are they?”
Matthew scrolled through his phone. “Same, I guess. You know. They’re Mom and Dad.” He stopped the motion of his finger on the screen and barked out a short laugh. “Ade says we have to get Mom to hold a koala and pay it in eucalyptus or whatever to piss on her silk blouse.”
Rafa laughed, imagining their sister’s wicked smile with a pang. “Are they, like… I don’t know. Have they said anything about me?”
He snorted. “Are you kidding? You’re their favorite topic of conversation. Even Chris doesn’t get as much attention these days. I mean, don’t get me wrong—they still praise him on the regular. It’s just every ten minutes now instead of five.”
“Heh.” Rafa reached for one of the cold water bottles tucked into the doors and chugged half. “So, what do they say about me?”
Shrugging his good shoulder, then wincing, Matthew answered, “Exactly what you think. Shane’s a cradle robber and taking advantage of you. They want you to come home so you can be their good little boy again.” He raised an eyebrow. “I see you cut your hair.”
“It was getting too long!” Rafa cringed internally at how defensive he sounded.
“Okay. Look, man. You just need to stand your ground. Don’t freak. They’ll pressure you to come home, but they’re not going to throw you in the back of—” He paled, the dark circles under his eyes standing out even more. “Sorry. That was a fucked-up joke.”
“It’s okay. Really.” Rafa tried to smile reassuringly.
“Shit, it’s good to see you. I missed you. For a long time now. Which is on me.”
“You had your own life away from the White House. It’s okay. It’s in the past now anyway.”
Matthew smiled warmly. “You were always too nice, Raf.”
The murmur of voices approached, and they shared a look. Rafa blew out a breath. “Here goes nothing.”
The limo door opened, and they scooted over to make room for their parents, Ramon settling in beside Rafa, across from Camila. His father pulled Rafa into an enthusiastic hug.
“Rafalito!”
“Hey, Dad.” It felt good to be enclosed in his father’s strong arms. Shit, he really had missed them. He slid to his knees to reach across and hug his mom, who smelled of delicate vanilla. She kissed his freshly shaven cheek, then wiped the smudge of her lipstick off his skin with her thumb.
Settling back in his seat as the limo left the airport, Rafa asked, “How was the trip?”
Camila sighed. “Long. It’ll be nice to get out of these grubby clothes.”
“You just changed into those,” Matthew noted.
Her tan linen pants were perfectly pressed, her white blouse crisp, and her “casual” navy jacket probably cost a couple grand. Diamonds gleamed in her ears, and of course a string of pearls circled her long neck. There wasn’t a strand out of place in her straightened hair, which she’d grown to brush her shoulders.
She flicked invisible lint from her knee. “Yes, well. That airplane air is so stuffy. Makes me feel unclean.”
Ramon chuckled. “You look beautiful as ever.” The gray at his temples threaded all through his short hair now, and Rafa was sure there were a few more lines on his face. It had only been a few months, but his father looked older somehow.
Ramon shrugged out of his light jacket. He wore no tie, but his silky cotton button-down shirt was tucked neatly into his slacks. He crossed his legs and propped one ankle on his knee and said, “It’s wonderful to see you again, Rafalito.” He squeezed Rafa’s arm. “We’ve all missed you very much.”
“I missed you guys too. Did you see Adriana when you went through LA?”
“Yes,” Ramon answered. “She’s doing…” He and Camila shared a glance before he finished, “Very well.”
Matthew rolled his eyes. “She’s partying too much and having the time of her life. But pretty soon all those hangovers won’t be so cute and she’ll have to grow up.”
Their parents glared at Matthew, but they didn’t argue. Camila said, “And of course Christian’s doing wonderfully in New York. He and Hadley are so happy together. Finally talking about having children.”
“We’d like some grandkids before we get too old to enjoy them,” Ramon added.
“You guys are only in your fifties,” Matthew said. “Chill.”
“Well, I don’t think your sister is mother material—at least not at this point—and you’re nowhere near settling down. And obviously Rafa won’t be having any. So it’s high time Christian got started.”
Obviously. Rafa tensed and tried to keep his tone light. “Who says I’m not having kids?”
“Oh.” Camila smiled smoothly. “Well, yes, I suppose it’s possible.”
Ramon added, “You’ve just never spoken of it, so we assumed since you’re… Now that you’re…”
“Do many twenty-two-year-old guys talk about having kids?” Rafa asked. “And gay people can have kids. Plenty of them do.”
This brought on a flurry of agreement and placation, which Rafa accepted. There was no point in getting upset about it. He rolled his shoulders. Focus on the positive. His phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out to read the message from Shane.
Hey. Are they there? Give them my best and try not to let them drive you too crazy. I should probably sleep when I get to DC, but my body has no idea what time it is. Love you. I’ll be back before you know it.
Rafa would have normally replied with a joke about Shane’s body, but he could feel his parents’ eyes on him. He quickly tapped out a “sleep well and I love you too.” Putting his phone back in his pocket, he said, “Shane says hi.”
“Mmm.” Camila’s smile was tight-lipped. “That’s nice.”
Ramon cleared his throat. “Glad he arrived safely.”
“Yeah, he really wanted to be here, but you know how important this inquest is. He’ll be back soon.”
“Darling, how’s Ashleigh?” Camila asked, as if they hadn’t talked about her in ages, which they had. “You know we’ve always adored her.”
He almost replied, “Still a lesbian, and I’m still gay in case you’re thinking it’s a phase.” But he got hold of himself and said, “Great. We just Skyped this morning. Well, her boss is horrible and pays her crap, and her parents don’t accept her and barely speak to her, but other than that she’s good.”
“We’re sorry to hear that about the Hastings,” Ramon said. After a beat, he added, “You know we accept you just the way you are.”
“I know.” Honestly, Rafa was still a little surprised at how hard they’d tried to be understanding and supportive, even if they didn’t always succeed. After so many years of dreading their reactions, part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He tried to think of something to say and glanced out the window as the limo made its way into the city in the sluggish rush-hour traffic.
“Look, there’s Sydney Tower.” He pointed to the tall, thin structure with a thick, rounded top. “The view’s really great up there. Restaurant was crowded. I guess they decided to make it a buffet at some point, but it wasn’t designed that way, so the middle aisle for the food was too packed in. The views are amazing from the windows though. The restaurant revolves, and we got a table by the glass, so it was great.”
Stop rambling, oh my God.
Camila said, “That sounds interesting. Did you pack some formal clothing?”
“Pack?” Rafa blinked. “Why would I pack anything? We’re not leaving for Perth until next week.”
“But of course you’re staying with us in the Presidential Suite at the hotel. You’ll have your own room.” She laughed. “There’s no sense in you staying in that little…place all alone.”
Gritting his teeth, Rafa blew out a slow breath and kept his voice even. “It’s my home, Mom. I’m staying there.”
“Don’t you want to have some quality time with your brother?” she asked.
Matthew shook his head. “Nope. Don’t bring me into this. I’m sure Raf and I will have plenty of ‘quality time’ in the next few weeks.”
“We just hate to think of you all alone out there,” Ramon said.
“Don’t you hate to think of him there with Shane even more?” Matthew muttered, ignoring their parents’ matching glares.
Camila smoothed out her face once more, smiling. “Rafa, we just want to spend as much time with you as possible.”
“I want to spend time with you guys too. And I will, I promise. My classes don’t start until mid-July. We have the whole next three weeks.”
He just had to survive them.