“I saw his driver’s license,” Weston said.
“And how did you do that?” James glared at Weston, and Daniel knew the only possible way was if Weston had gotten into his bag. “Spying, snooping, going through bags. Did you steal anything?” James asked. Daniel had to give James a whole hell of a lot of credit for keeping the attention, at least for the moment, on Weston. “Maybe all the ladies in the room should check their purses just to make sure you haven’t been stealing from them.”
It was a brilliant ploy, and sure enough all the women pulled out their bags. “You need to go,” Holly pronounced as she stood up. “This is in poor taste and the weirdest stunt you’ve ever pulled.”
Daniel stood. “Holly,” he said softly. “It’s all right.” He saw the instant that Holly saw through the makeup and the clothing to the man he was underneath. Her hand went to her mouth, and she then sat back down. Daniel picked up his bag, turned, and left the dining room without another word. He sure as hell wasn’t going to explain anything to a room full of strangers.
“Well, Weston, how much did you steal?” James snapped, and Daniel was able to get out of the room with most everyone’s attention on James and Weston.
Another scuffle reached Daniel’s ears as he stepped out of the private room and into the main restaurant dining area, which had largely cleared out. He found a seat near the front of the restaurant, slightly away from the door, and wondered what he should do. This hadn’t been in any of their plans, and Daniel had no idea if he should stay or simply try to disappear. He could go to a hotel for the next few days and then fly home. He had his ticket, and lord knew James was going to have enough trouble as it was.
“You!” Weston growled as he and two of Howard’s other friends stomped their way out of the room and through the restaurant toward where he sat. “You’ve caused enough trouble already. Why are you still here?”
Daniel ignored Weston. “Where’s James?” he asked one of the other guys.
“Still in there,” he answered softly.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you some freak who likes playing with people?”
Daniel turned back to Weston. “I sure as hell got a laugh out of you. Making a pass at me every time you had the chance.”
“I certainly didn’t know,” Weston answered, pulling himself upward. “I never...”
Daniel snorted softly. “Maybe thou doth protest too much.” Weston paled. “Get out of here and watch who you’re calling names, pig boy.”
“Let’s go,” one of the other guys said and practically dragged a still-sputtering Weston out of the restaurant. Daniel slumped back in the chair, wondering what was going on. Had James thrown him under the bus and not told his family that he knew Daniella was really a guy? That seemed like the most obvious explanation, which meant Daniel needed to get the hell out of here before he found a pack of James’s family members all gunning for him. Maybe if he was lucky, he could get back to the house, grab his things, and get a ride out of there before everyone else got home.
“Can I help you?” the hostess asked.
“No thanks. I’m just going to call a ride.” Daniel brought out his phone, ordered an Uber, and thankfully there was a car only a few minutes away. He didn’t see James again by the time the car arrived, and he hurried out to meet it.
* * *
“Thank you,” Daniel said and got out of the Uber, entering the house using the key that James had given him earlier. He placed it on the polished wood coffee table and hustled down to the bedroom he and James had shared.
The first thing he did was pull off his wig and then remove his makeup, cleaning his face, and stripping away the clothes, removing the last vestiges of Daniella, dressing himself in jeans and a T-shirt. It had been so long since he’d worn his boy clothes that they almost felt uncomfortable...almost.
He needed to pack. Daniel didn’t know how much time he had, and he needed to get busy. After pulling his suitcases from under the bed, he slapped them onto the mattress and started the packing process. Haphazardly throwing things into suitcases wasn’t usually his style, but Daniel figured he could repack everything once he got safely to the hotel.
With the suitcases all laid out, he began pulling outfits from the closet. Daniel got to the one he’d worn last night and his fingers glided over the fabric. He made it back to the bed intending to pack it, but instead sat on the edge, holding the hanger. “God damn it,” Daniel swore out loud, flipping the dress onto the spread-out luggage with much more force than was necessary.
He’d been a fool, that was for damned sure, and Daniel hated being made to feel that way. He had actually thought that James had felt something for him, that the last few days hadn’t been an illusion. But that was a joke, and the punch line was him. The guys with Weston had made it pretty clear that James had stayed with his family. Hell, he probably had them convinced that Daniel had pulled the wool over even James’s eyes and that this was all his fault. He should have known. For all the talk about how James felt, when push came to shove, James hadn’t had the guts to stand up and be himself. Instead, he’d taken the easy way out. Well, screw him.
Daniel deserved so much better than that. He hung his head. Why did he always go for the guys who could hurt him the most? He got back up and returned to packing. There wasn’t time for this kind of soul-searching crap. He needed to get packed and get the fuck out of here, away from James and his family with their expectations, masks, and outward lies matched only by the ones they spun in private. Daniel shook his head hard to try to get James out of it so he could think.
Moving more quickly now, he emptied the closet and the drawers where he’d stowed his folded things. The shoes came next, and finally the wigs and other small items. Daniel checked the area over once more, closed the suitcases, and went to the bathroom.
“Fuck,” Daniel groaned at the sight in the mirror. He looked like a damn raccoon had run hither and yon all over his face. Daniel grabbed a cloth, washing his face well to remove the last bits of makeup. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks red and blotchy—basically, he looked as bad as he felt. Well, at least there was no one to look good for, and he could rest at the hotel and wait for the flight back to Chicago and real life.
He dried his face with a towel, returning to the bedroom. Daniel closed all the suitcases, carrying them to the front door, before returning for a second load as light flashed across the living room walls from a car pulling into the drive. He moved faster, getting the last of his things together by the door, then bracing for whatever onslaught was about to come his way.