look as if you have a fever. You’re flushed and sweaty.”
“I-I…” He let out a nervous laugh. “You know, now that you mention it, I’m not feeling very well. I hate to do this to you Charlotte, but I think I should head home, take a Tylenol or something and get some rest.”
Charlotte patted his arm, genuine worry marring her brow. “Oh dear, yes. I think that’s for the best. And don’t apologize. You can’t help how you feel.”
Donovan exhaled, his stomach unknotting a fraction. Maybe Silver would forgive him if he explained. He could talk to him all night now that he didn’t have to stay at the event. They’d done that already one night, had stayed on the phone until after three in the morning. The only reason he’d gotten off the line at all was that his Papi had told him he needed his sleep.
Why the fuck aren’t I over there now?
“Thank you, Charlotte. You’re a doll.” He decided he’d better cover all his bases. “But I’d really love to get together soon. Anywhere you want to go. Should I look into tickets for what’s playing at the Shubert?”
She smiled, then sighed, clutching her beaded evening bag in front of her. “Donovan… You really don’t need to do this.”
“Excuse me?”
She glanced around then leaned in closer, bringing her voice to a whisper. “Everyone knows you’re gay.”
“I… But…” He shook his head, wondering if he’d heard her right. “I don’t understand. When you say everyone…?”
Charlotte arched her eyebrows. “Donovan, please. You don’t think you’ve been obvious?”
He bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She patted his arm again. “I’m not trying to insult you. But over the years, it’s felt as if you’ve gone out of your way through your actions to announce that you’re gay, without actually doing it.”
Donovan ran through the files in his mind, trying to figure out what she was getting at. He’d never once brought a man to an event—that was a given. He hadn’t flirted—well, openly flirted… He frowned. Okay, there was the one time when he’d been blowing one of the caterers at the wedding of a family friend, and someone had caught them in the bushes over by the club fountain. But it had been dark…
Then there was the other time when he’d been bent over the desk in the study of the firm’s attorney when he and the family had stayed at his country house in Palm Springs for the weekend. The housekeeper had walked in on him and the attorney’s valet, but Donovan had been certain that the five hundred bucks he’d given her would keep her quiet.
Then there was the time…
“Fuck me…” He rubbed his forehead, the champagne headache coming on with a vengeance.
“It’s not necessary.” Charlotte touched his arm again, but this time, left her hand there. “Look, I can be your beard, if you’d like. All I ask is that I’m allowed to have discreet affairs on the side. But I’ll show up at all the family functions, hold grand dinner parties, and anything else you need me to do. We can even adopt a child, if you’d like. I don’t mind telling everyone I can’t conceive. I’ll come up with a heartbreaking story guaranteed to make your father a believer.”
She moved closer to him, then looped her arm through his. “All I ask for in return is to be awarded all the same perks I’d be awarded as a true wife.” She laughed. “Without a prenup, of course.”
“This is insane.”
His entire reality had flipped upside down. Here he’d been assuming all these years that he’d been careful, that he’d kept the ruse going. Oh sure, there were bound to be a few people who had their suspicions, but now that he was viewing things through her lens, holy shit. She was right.
Everyone knew.
The club, their family, the friends of their family, the employees of the firm—everyone. Did his father know everyone knew? If he did, then what was the point of this whole charade?
He gazed down at Charlotte, the smile plastered on her face reminiscent of the proverbial cat who’d swallowed the canary.
This is a nightmare.
“Then what’s the point?”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “That point to what?”
“The farce of us getting married, having dinner parties and…” He waved his hand around. “Adopting poor, innocent children.”
“They don’t have to be poor, darling. We can figure something out.”
“What?” He snorted and pulled free of her grasp. “What I’m trying to say, Charlotte, is that putting on the show you