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  To try to stop thinking about Finn, I turned my attention to the crowd around me. Gianni looked awestruck and so totally in love as he watched his boyfriend performing. He was surrounded by his best friend Yoshi and two of his brothers, Dante and Mike, along with their families. Nearby, Nana was dancing like a teenager with Skye and Dare, while Gianni’s other brother Vincent, his husband Trevor and their son Josh all held hands. Josh’s look of total amazement was really sweet.

  To my right, Shea stood behind Christian with his arms around him and the two of them swayed to the music. Christian looked a bit teary-eyed as he watched his father up on stage. The last time Zan performed had been in 2002, and that had ended mid-concert when Zan walked away from his career to head off a nervous breakdown. This was a huge moment for the singer and everyone who loved him.

  I felt Nico stiffen all of a sudden and turned to look at him. His eyes behind his glasses were huge and full of heartbreak, his full lips slightly parted. He was staring past the stage into the crowd, and I leaned over and said into his ear, “What’s wrong?”

  “My ex,” he muttered.

  “Where?”

  “Front row. Tall blond with a pink shirt,” he said, raising his hand. I looked where he was pointing and easily spotted the guy in question. Holy hell. The blond was stunningly handsome, as was the shorter brunet that was hanging on his arm. They both looked like they could be models. “Oh God,” Nico choked out before turning and darting backstage. I ran after him.

  He ducked into a little alcove that was full of spare sound equipment and dropped to his knees, then he put his face in his hands and started sobbing, his entire body shaking. I knelt down beside him and wrapped my arms around him.

  Nico let himself cry for several minutes before finally taking a few deep breaths and murmuring, “I’m so sorry. You’re missing the concert. You should go back.”

  “This is more important.”

  He sat back on his heels and took my hand, using his other one to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “It caught me totally off guard,” he said, his voice rough. “I was just enjoying the music, and all of a sudden, there he was. I should have known I’d see him here, I just didn’t think about it. Erik’s on the board of directors for the charity this concert’s raising money for. He was wearing a VIP pass around his neck, I’m surprised I didn’t run into him backstage.”

  “What happened between the two of you?”

  “The oldest story in the book. He left me for my best friend, that brunet hanging on Erik’s arm. We lived together for three years, and apparently those two had been having an affair at least half that time.” Nico sniffed and took off his glasses, then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

  “I felt so betrayed. They were the two people I loved and trusted most in the world. It’s been two years but it just won’t stop hurting. I moved out of L.A. and tried to start a new life. I tried to leave both of them and what they did to me in the past. But it still hurts so fucking much, Chance.” A fresh batch of tears spilled down his face.

  I pulled him to me and he buried his face in my shoulder. His body trembled as he held on to me and let himself cry. It was several minutes before he finally managed to get it under control. He sat back, leaning against a big speaker, and I sat beside him with my arm around his shoulders as his ragged breathing gradually leveled out. “I hadn’t seen either of them since the day I moved out,” he said after a while. “I often wondered if they were still together.”

  “Nobody told you? You didn’t keep in touch with any of your friends when you left L.A.?”

  “I’d moved here from San Francisco to be with Erik. All my friends were his friends first, except for Gavin, who followed me to southern California. We’d been best friends since we were eight.”

  “God that sucks,” I said.

  “Tell me about it.” Nico put his head on my shoulder and sighed. “They looked happy and in love, didn’t they? I don’t know why Erik stayed with me all that time and snuck around when Gavin was obviously what he wanted.”

  “They’re both fucking assholes.”

  “You’re not wrong.” He pushed himself to his feet, brushed off his khakis, and smoothed out his light blue button-down shirt. I got up too as he said, “I really hope I don’t run into them backstage tonight. I probably look disgusting now, don’t I?”

  “No. You just look like you’ve been crying.”

  “That’s worse. I want them to think I’ve totally moved on.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  After we found a restroom and he washed his face and combed his hair, we rejoined our group and tried to concentrate on the concert. His eyes were still red, but other than that he didn’t look much worse for wear. We positioned ourselves near the curtain, so his ex and former best friend were no longer in his line of sight. Jessie had seen us leave, and when he came over to ask if anything was wrong, I filled him in quickly. He and I spent the rest of the concert on either side of Nico with our arms around him.

  When the concert ended, a hell of a lot of people wanted to get a piece of Zan, including countless photographers and reporters. He paused to take a picture with the head of the nonprofit, and then we all helped escort him and Gianni to the back of the building, where a car was waiting. I caught a glimpse of Nico’s ex at one point in the backstage crowd. He was looking our way, but I didn’t think Nico saw him.

  After we thanked Gianni and Zan and said goodbye to them, the rest of our party headed to the VIP parking lot. “I want to party!” Nana exclaimed. Her dark eyes were bright, and she was dressed in a white leather ensemble and platform boots that made her look like an aging go-go dancer. “Let’s find a nightclub, who’s game?”

  “We’re going back to the hotel, it’s past Josh’s bedtime,” Vincent said. His son rolled his eyes at that. To me, Vincent said, “We’re in room twelve-twenty, come find us in the morning, Chance. We’ll want to start heading back to San Francisco at about ten.” I told them I would and they took off in the direction of their car, as did Mike and his girlfriend Marie, who carried his sleeping sons. Mike had one on each hip while Marie carried the third.

  “I think we’re going to head back to the hotel, too,” Christian said. “It’s been a hell of a long day. We’ll see you guys at breakfast.” He and his husband were staying in L.A. for the weekend, along with Skye and Dare, and the four of them said goodnight and left together. Yoshi took off too after admitting embarrassedly that he was hooking up with someone he’d met at the concert.

  “I don’t know if I’m up for this,” Nico said as we headed to the limo with Jessie, Nana, Dante and Charlie.

  “This is exactly what you need,” I told him. “It’s what we both need, some fun and distraction.”

  “Shit, there they are,” Nico whispered. I followed his gaze across the parking lot and spotted his ex easily. The guy stood out, no doubt about it. He and his boyfriend noticed Nico at about the same time and looked shocked.

  “Just ignore them,” I said, and guided Nico into the back of the limo. Before I followed, I flipped off his ex with both hands.

  Jessie saw what I was doing and asked, “Which ones are they?”

  “The tall blond guy in the pink shirt that looks like a Viking,” I said, “and the guy who’s hanging all over him.”

  “Fuckers,” Jessie said. When we got in the limo, Jessie called over the divider, “Want me to run them over, Nico? I won’t, like, kill them or anything. I’ll only bump them a little.”

  Nico grinned at that and said, “Nah, they’re not worth the jail time. Thanks for the offer, though.”

  We ended up beside Erik’s flashy red convertible as my friend eased the limo slowly out of the tight parking lot. Jessie grabbed a square, black mic from the dash, turned on the P.A. system with the flick of a switch and said, “Hey you! Yeah you, the asshats in the Dodge Viper!” Erik and Gavin turned to stare at the l
imo’s tinted windows, their mouths falling open. “First of all, that’s one of the douchiest cars ever made! Total fail! Do you realize how many completely righteous car choices you could have made for that money? Well no, obviously you don’t, because you bought a total Douchemobile! You two totally suck ass, and not just because you don’t know shit about cars.”

  Jessie turned up the volume on the P.A. system and said, “Hey, everybody! See those dumbshits in the lame, overpriced convertible? Oh sorry, we’re in L.A., I need to be more specific. See the dudes in the red Viper next to the stylin’ old-school limo?” Everyone in the crowded parking lot stopped to stare as Erik and Gavin slid down in their seats and probably totally regretted leaving the convertible’s top open. “They’re a pair of low-down dirty cheaters! Those assholes betrayed their best friend and their boyfriend! Erik and Gavin, you totally suck and you should be ashamed of yourselves! Karma’s a bitch, baby, and I hope it comes back around and bites you on your ass!” Jessie turned off the mic and put it back it its cradle as he said, “Hang on kids, we’re going off-roading.”

  We’d just cleared the gates of the parking lot, and Jessie slowly bore down on the Viper as all the other cars around us gave us a wide berth. He ended up squeezing Erik off the road in slow-motion, and the douchey sports car splashed into a muddy drainage ditch. I thought we were going to join them since we were driving on dirt at that point, but Jessie pulled out in time and we rolled back onto the pavement.

  I turned and looked back at the Dodge as Erik stepped out of the car and sank into about a foot of mud, yelling and gesturing at the limo. Jessie pushed some buttons and started blasting I Will Survive through the exterior speakers as we left them behind, and Nana whooped and yelled, “That’s my boy!”

  “You just happened to have that song cued up?” I asked Jessie.

  “No, but I did have Nana’s Best of the 1970s CD in the player. Every now and then, she likes to bust some moves while we’re driving around town.”

  I grinned and leaned back in my seat, and was glad to see that Nico was grinning, too.

  *****

  Jessie drove us back to West Hollywood, which was where we were staying, and Nana proceeded to take over a gay bar while her grandson Dante attempted to supervise her. Meanwhile, Jessie, Nico, Charlie and I found a relatively quiet table in the corner and proceeded to get drunk.

  The more he drank, the quieter Nico became. It had the exact opposite effect on Jessie and Charlie, who ended up downright giddy. “Your husband is so damn hot,” Jessie told Charlie at one point. “I mean, my God, how do you even ever let him leave the bedroom? You’re so freaking lucky!”

  Charlie grinned at that, his green eyes sparkling as he watched his husband across the room. Dante was trying to talk his grandmother down from the bar, but Nana was totally ignoring him and dancing with a couple half-naked go-go boys. “I really am.”

  “He needs to give up on reeling Nana in, though,” Jessie said. “I think his new approach should be, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Come on, let’s see if we can get him to cut loose a little.”

  After the two of them went over to Dante, Nico said, “You want to hear something pathetic? Erik is the only guy I’ve ever slept with. It’s been two years since it ended, but I just haven’t been able to move past it. That’s going to change, though. I’m going to loosen up a bit when I’m in Italy. That doesn’t come naturally to me, as you can probably guess. Erik used to complain about how straight-laced I was, and I think it was probably sheer boredom that drove him to leave me for Gavin. But I don’t want to be that guy, at least not while I’m on vacation. I don’t think I can help being like that normally. But when I’m in Italy, I resolve to find somebody hot and sexy and totally unlike Erik, and do wild, impulsive things with him.” He nodded his head at that and drained his martini glass.

  “I support that idea, but you really don’t have to wait until you’re on vacation. This club is packed with hot guys. Someone as good-looking as you could hook up with any one of them.”

  He glanced around shyly and said, “I need to work myself up to it.”

  “Alright.”

  “What about you, why aren’t you trying to hook up with someone? You’ve been getting plenty of looks since we got here.”

  I took a drink from the beer bottle in my hand and said, “Not interested.”

  Nico watched me for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry that I’ve made this evening all about me, when clearly something was bothering you earlier. You barely said two words on the drive down from San Francisco. What’s going on with you, Chance?”

  “I just have a lot on my mind with my upcoming road trip.”

  “That’s not the only thing,” he said. “I keep seeing this wistful look in your eyes. It has something to do with a guy, doesn’t it?”

  I sighed and admitted, “Yeah. I’m trying to get over someone who I never should have gotten attached to in the first place.”

  “Was he your boyfriend?”

  “No. He was actually a client, and I started having real feelings for him. It’s so stupid, too! I know better. It’s not like I started turning tricks last week! You leave your emotions and your heart and soul at the door, only your body gets involved.”

  Nico thought about that for a while, spinning the stem of his martini glass between his fingers, and finally asked, “Why are you a prostitute, Chance?”

  “Because it’s all I’m qualified for.” The fact that he asked that question and I actually answered told me we were both pretty drunk.

  “That’s not even sort of true. For one thing, you’re an amazing photographer.”

  “Thanks, but nobody really cares if I’m any good at taking pictures. I was lucky that a few friends hired me to do some work, but aside from them, come on. San Francisco is full of photographers with more talent and far more education and training than I’ll ever have. I can’t compete with them.”

  “Who says you have to compete?” Nico said. “You can be amazing in your own right.”

  “Or unemployed and mediocre.”

  “You’re better than your job, Chance.”

  “I’m really not. I dropped out of school in the ninth grade and I’m not qualified to do anything at all. This puts food on my table and keeps a roof over my head. I totally get that all of society thinks what I do is dirty and shameful, but to me, by now? It’s just a job. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve become completely inured to it.”

  Nico raised an eyebrow at me. “The very fact that you just used the word ‘inured’ should show you how completely underemployed you are.”

  I grinned a little, looking at the half-empty bottle in my hand. “I read a lot, so I have a decent vocabulary. That’s not enough to actually land me a legitimate job, though.”

  “I don’t mean to come across as judgmental,” he said. “If that job makes you happy, then more power to you. The thing is though, I don’t think it does. I get that you’ve been doing it for a while now and kind of own it and make no apologies for it. But at the same time, I think it costs you more than you realize.” I just shrugged at that. After another pause, Nico asked, “So, what are you going to do about that guy you mentioned?”

  “I ended it with him this morning.”

  “Did you tell him how you felt before you ended it?”

  “More or less,” I said. “He doesn’t feel the same way.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Basically.”

  “I’m sorry, Chance. That must have hurt,” he said.

  “It’s my own fault. I knew better than to get attached to him, and it was no surprise that he didn’t want a whore.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call yourself that.”

  “It doesn’t change anything if I dress it up and call myself a sex worker instead.”

  Nico asked, “Are you really willing to just let that guy go?”

  “It’s not like I have a choice. Besides, it wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Relationships
are impossible in this line of work.”

  “Really?”

  “I mean, I assume so. I’ve never had a relationship, but I can’t imagine that my job would sit well with a boyfriend.”

  “Literally never?” When I nodded, he said, “Isn’t that reason enough to consider another line of work?”

  Nico looked really sympathetic. I hated that. I pushed back from the table and said, “I’ll be right back, I’m going to find the restroom.”

  As I made my way through the club, I assessed the crowd. It was a learned skill, something I’d honed in my line of work. It was easy to sort the men around me into categories at a glance: horny, cocky, aggressive, desperate. It was fairly easy to pick out the working boys, too, especially when they were assessing the crowd just like I was and sizing up potential tricks. They in turn probably easily figured out what I was too, even if I wasn’t on the clock that night.

  The restroom was crowded, and plenty of people were ignoring the sign on the door prohibiting sex on the premises. I ignored them and used the restroom for its intended purpose. As I was washing my hands, a big, blond guy in a tight t-shirt pushed up beside me and ran a hand down my back. “Hey, sexy,” he purred.

  I got a read on him immediately: drunk, over-privileged rich boy who was used to getting what he wanted. Men like that were trouble. “Not interested,” I said as I turned from him.

  He detained me with a hand on my shoulder. “You haven’t heard what I’m offering yet,” he said with a leering grin. “Are you a hooker? I can always tell. All I want is fifteen minutes of your time, but I’m gonna make you earn every penny.” He pulled a fistful of hundreds out of his pocket and stuck them in my face.

  I looked at the money, and then I looked up at the guy. Whatever he wanted wasn’t vanilla, I could tell by the glint in his eye. He wasn’t bad looking either, so if all he was looking for was something mundane like a blowjob, he could have gotten that easily in the club without having to pay for it. My gaze returned to the handful of bills.