Going to Palm Springs with Jeffrey and Chaz was the best thing I could have done. In addition to getting a lot of rest and relaxation, we had a blast. We sipped margaritas around the hotel pool and people watched. My hilarious companions played How Big is His Dick? with all the beautiful gay boys who sashayed around it. And I swam, making swimming my new passion.
Despite me telling them to go out alone for a romantic Valentine’s dinner, they insisted I come along. We dined at The Tropicale, a vintage sixties restaurant that Frank Sinatra frequented, and drank pink Cosmopolitans until we were sloshed. And then we went dancing downtown at their favorite gay bar. The wild weekend away was just what I needed to get my mind off f*ck
ing Brandon.
On Sunday night, we return to LA. The drive takes about two hours. After dropping Chaz off at their downtown loft, Jeffrey takes me home.
“Want me to walk you to your guest cottage?” he asks after I step out of the car.
“Thanks, but I’m good,” I say, collecting my overnight bag from him. I am, however, a little surprised that the lights in Brandon’s house are on. I’m sure they were all turned off when I left. Maybe his housekeeper stopped by. And then a dark thought assaults me and sends a shiver down my spine. Maybe Donatelli’s awaiting him. Or me. I give myself a mental kick and calm down. There’s no way he could have gotten past the patrol car parked at the gate.
Setting my bag on the driveway, I give my brother a big bear hug. “Thanks for a great weekend. And thank Chaz again for me.”
Jeffrey smacks a kiss on my cheek. “We had a great time too. Don’t forget to keep us posted on Pops’s investigation. I’m glad he set up police protection.”
While I was in Palm Springs, I filled Jeffrey and Chaz in on everything—the latest dramatic twists with Mama’s killer as well as Brandon’s unexpected trip to Paris with Katrina.
“When’s your boss coming back?” asks Jeffrey.
“Tuesday. Unless Katrina prolongs the trip.”
“I hope they both eat bad mussels,” sneers Chaz.
He makes me laugh. Though I don’t wish harm on my ass*ole
boss, he and the bitch deserve to be buried together.
After one last embrace, Jeffrey hops into his car. As his silver Mercedes heads toward the gate, I traipse toward the private entrance to my living quarters. A stern voice stops me.
“Where the hell have you been?”
I recognize the voice instantly and spin around. Brandon! He stomps up to me. My heart races. The ache in my chest, which dissipated while I was gone, returns full force.
“I thought you were in Paris.”
“I couldn’t go. I came down with a sinus infection.”
“You don’t look or sound congested.” Dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, he looks beautiful—even when livid.
“I’m better now.” He repeats his question. His tone’s grown angrier.
I answer as calmly as I can. “Away. If you recall, you gave me the weekend off.”
“Where?” With brows furrowed, he hurls the word at me.
“Palm Springs. I went with my boyfriend. You just missed him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I owe you nothing about my private life. The same way you don’t tell me about yours.”
He’s speechless. I’ve called him on his Paris sexcapade with the bitch. Satisfaction sates me. Ha! It fell through. After a few moments, he breaks the silence.
“Why didn’t you answer my calls or messages?” Rage still fuels his voice. “I was worried sick about you.”
I think fast. “My boyfriend insisted we take no electronic devices with us. No computers, no phones. He just wanted it to be about us. Alone and romantic.”
His lips pinch together. And his voice dips a pitch lower. “Where did you stay?”
“The Viceroy. The perfect place for a Valentine’s getaway.”
“I never heard of it,” replies the amnesiac.
“It has the most amazing pool. Jeffrey and I went swimming together.” I place special emphasis on the last word.
His eyes narrow. He looks as if he wishes he’d never taught me.
“We had a blast. You and Katrina should check it out some time.”
“Thank you for the recommendation. We will.”
Internally falling apart, I hold my own. “Great. And now, if you’ll excuse me, Brandon, I’d like to call it a night.”
As I pick up my overnight bag, he grips my elbow.
“Fine. But just one last question. Why did you bother to come back here? You could have easily stayed at your boyfriend’s place.”
He holds me fierce in his gaze. My eyes don’t blink as I steel myself.
With a strong, steady voice I reply, “It’s simple, Brandon. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
With that, I break away from him and march to my quarters without looking back.
Brandon
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.