Brendan wanted to kiss him and apologise because he had a feeling he had hurt the lad but that would mean that Caden actually cared and that was a preposterous supposition because they barely knew each other and what they shared was just a business transaction.

That's it.

A fucked up business transaction where the item for purchase was sex with Caden and the remuneration was monetary.

The boundaries were clearly defined. There was no need to blur the edges.

He walked downstairs to the living area to find Caden gone so he looked through the heavy curtains of the balcony window. The escort was crossing Watergate Street with his shoulders slumped and his hands in pockets, heading towards the city centre. He stopped, for a moment, outside the café across the road. The one that he had stared at before going to Liverpool with Brendan.

Coffee Hut. What was the lad's connection to that place?

Brendan let the curtain drop. When he turned to look at the living area evidence of the lad's presence was all over the spacious room. The white couch wasn't where it usually was having shifted across the floor due to the ferocity of Brendan's pummelling. It wasn't pristine anymore either. It smelt of Caden's aftershave and body scent. Musky and citrusy. It reminded Brendan of warm skin, hungry kisses, insistent hands, breathy sighs and filthy groans.

He gathered up and binned the pair of bright yellow gloves, used condoms and the sponge. He picked up the lube bottle and the two unused condoms that were left.

For next time.

Because he knew that a next time would happen with the lad. It was inevitable.

That was when he realised that he had no way of getting hold of the escort.

{~}

Ste stood outside a block of highrise flats located on the margins of the city centre. He looked at the list of flat numbers and surnames in front of him. He pushed a finger on the buzzer next to the names Carter/Jacobs and kept it there. It took a minute before he got a reply.

"Ste cut that out." The voice that came through the intercom was not impressed. "It's nearly midnight, dude."

"How did you know it was me?"

Doug spoke with an edge of disappointment not dissimilar to a parent addressing a wayward child.

"I left you in the restroom for one minute, Ste. One minute. Next thing I know I'm getting a text that says 'Going now. Tell Amy something' and when I look around both you and what's-his-name are dust."

Ste's shoulders slumped. He was beating himself up about tonight as it was. He didn't need Doug adding insult to injury.

After a pause his friend sighed deeply. "Sorry. I didn't mean to pop off at the mouth. I was worried about you, is all. You didn't reply to any of my texts."

Ste had turned his phone to silent when it kept going off during his taxi ride back to Brendan's.

"No, I know. I'm sorry."

"You want to come up for a post-mortem?"

Ste swallowed back a wave of emotion. "Yeah."

{~}

Doug let him into his tiny flat a few minutes later Ste hugged the artist so hard that the wind was knocked out of him.

Doug was in sweats and a rock band t-shirt. His 'chilling' clothes.

He held Ste tightly. "Easy buddy. Easy. I've just told Amy you're with me so she doesn't get stressed."

Ste pulled back. "Doug, I-"

Doug placed a finger to his lips, shook his head and whispered,

"Benji's next door."

The sound of music and cooking were coming from the kitchen.

They walked through to see the student busying himself at the cooker. Ste knew without looking into the pots that he was making pasta. It was the only edible dish that he could make.

"Hi sweetie." Benji's skinny frame was covered by board shorts that hung low on his hips. He pulled Ste into a quick hug. "We are about to celebrate with some food!"

"Smells good." Ste said.

It smelt distinctly average, not that he was concentrating on the aromas in the room. He had other things on his mind.

Benji said. "Thanks."

Ste really needed to talk to Doug in private without his boyfriend there but it didn't look like that was going to happen.

Benji threw diced onions into a frying pan. The hot oil reacted to the water in them by spitting up.

"Baby, put a shirt on. You'll get burned." Doug said.

"Aw. Look at my boyfriend getting all worried about me." Benji said as he threw more diced items into the same pan with little caution. "Isn't he cute, Ste?"

"Yeah." Ste said.

"Dougie said you had to rush off to cover at the wine bar. That sucks."

Doug lifted a pointed eyebrow at Ste that said. 'See. You are making me lie to my own boyfriend. I hope you're happy.'

"The wine bar. Yeah." Ste nodded briskly.

If only he had been called to the wine bar. If only. Then he would have avoided meeting Brendan at the art gallery and dodged the humiliation of what had subsequently happened.

The corners of his eyes prickled with unshed tears and Doug placed a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"Are you joining us?" Benji asked over his shoulder as he poured passata into the saucepan and let it simmer.

"Actually, Ben..." Doug used his most winning voice on his boyfriend as he walked up to him and curled his arms around his waist. He kissed Benji's shoulder.

"What?"

"I was thinking that we should have sparkling wine with our food." Doug said.

"But we don't have any."

"Yeah but the off licence around the corner has."

Benji stared at his boyfriend then at Ste suspiciously.

"Please." Doug looked at him pleadingly as he passed over a twenty pound note. "I'll keep an eye on the pots."

Watching the exchange of money turned Ste's stomach.

Twenty pounds was insignificant to Brendan. A pile of twenties, like the wodge of banknotes that currently filled Ste's pocket, was nothing to him.

"Okay." Benji whispered reluctantly. "But you know that it's freezing out and that the only people who go to the offy at this time are alkies, murders and muggers."

Doug gave his boyfriend a kiss. "Drama queen."

The minute Benji left, Doug turned to Ste. They sat on the threadbare sofa in the living room. Ste curled up, hugging his bent knees up to his body.

"So what happened?"

"I went to Brendan's place."

"Did you sleep with him?"

Ste couldn't look at Doug straight in the face. "Yes."

Doug turned to sit cross legged facing his friend. He didn't look surprised just disappointed. "You promised you would never escort again."

"I wasn't escorting." Ste tried to explain. "I mean-"

"You went off on a night that was really important to me, Ste. How selfish is that?"

Ste hadn't considered that at all. He had been too busy thinking about himself.

"I'm sorry."

"I just don't get it. You have never put your clients over your friends."

"He's not just a client!" Ste said angrily.

Doug's eyes widened as they connected with Ste's. "What?"

Ste didn't want to crumble in front of his friend. He knew that he had made a rod for his own back. He didn't think he deserved sympathy but he was devastated.

"Hey." Doug rubbed Ste's cheeks.

Ste hadn't realised he was crying.

"What do you mean 'he is not just a client'?"

"Nothing." Ste said quietly after a moment.

"Tell me."

Ste connected his watery eyes with Doug's concerned ones.

"It's stupid. I'm stupid." The words Ste then said were whispered so that they wouldn't sound ludicrous. "You know when you asked me if I liked him, I lied to you when I said I didn't. You were right. I really liked him and I thought that he liked me too. so when I went back to his place I thought it was because he felt a connection between us. It's silly, right, because it's not as if we know each other? I've met him three times. That's it. Three times. I don't know what I was thinking ..."

He paused and wiped his tears.

"When we did it I wanted to be with him so badly. But it was just sex. I know that now. I am sounding like a right twat."

"What happened after?"

Ste took out the money from his back pocket and placed it on the sofa between them. "This."

"He thought you were still hustling."

Ste sniffed back tears and nodded. "So I left."

"Didn't you tell him you had stopped?"

"I tried to."

Doug took a shaky breath out. "Gosh, Ste. Shit. I didn't realise you felt that much for him."

"I should have thrown the money back in his face."

"You're kidding right? You earned the cash but you were right to walk away."

"Yeah. I was. Wasn't I?"

"Ste, listen to me, Brendan is... was a client. He is never going to see you as anything other than a rent boy. He doesn't want you as a boyfriend. He even told you that he doesn't do relationships. That is why he hired you; so that he could get sex with no strings attached. That is not the kind of guy you want to get involved with, is it?"

Ste creased his eyebrows. "Do you think he sees other tricks?"

"Does it matter if he does?"

Doug's hand on his shoulder felt heavy; weighted down by the truth of his words.

"No."

Doug said kindly. "Sorry if I'm sounding harsh but I don't want you getting involved with the wrong guy again. You'll find someone amazing to share your life with, Ste. Someone who will treat you the way you deserve but it's not going to be Brendan."

Ste closed his eyes.

Doug was right once again.

In Brendan's eyes he would always be a hustler. Now Ste was beginning to think that that was all he was good for; that that was all he was designed to do.

Doug pulled him into his arms.

Doug's advice #7-

"A hug is just a hug between friends as long as crotch doesn't rub against crotch." Doug smiled. "Then it's an invitation or foreplay."

Ste smiled genuinely for the first time since coming into the flat. "You're funny."

"Why don't you stay tonight?" Doug suggested. "I'll be around in the morning before my yshift at the cafe. We can hang out."

Ste nodded into Doug's neck. "Yeah okay but are you two going to shag tonight?"

Ste had stayed over before. The walls were thin and Benji got loud.

"Maybe." Doug smiled.

Ste kicked off his socks and took off his sweater and shirt. Then he shoved Doug off with his feet before laying back and making himself comfortable. "Could I borrow a t-shirt please?"

"Yeah. Sure. How are you feeling?" His friend looked down at him.

"Fine. Tomorrow I'll feel like a right idiot for making such a big deal out of this." Ste tried a smile. "Do you have ear plugs?"

"Don't worry, we'll be quiet."

"No you won't and I can't be doing with this all night, can I?"

Ste did an imitation of Benji having an orgasm.

{~}

The next day Brendan was late to work. He had hardly slept the night before.

When he stepped into his office a steaming cup of coffee and Paul were waiting for him along with a pile of papers.

"Morning, boss."

"Morning." Brendan sat at his desk.

"How was family time with the Kilners last night?"

Brendan had almost forgotten that his evening had begun with brown-nosing the Liverpudlian super family; schmoozing then dinner then the art exhibition.

"How do you think it went?" He said. He drank his coffee in one go.

"Like you would have preferred to get amputated without anaesthetic."

Brendan smirked. "We hang out too much, Paulie. You're beginning to read my mind."

Paul grinned.

"I want you to send flowers to Kilner's wife and a bottle of Irish whiskey to his son with thank you notes."

"It's as good as done."

"What am I doing today?"

Paul glanced at his tablet. "Friday. Okay. Busy day. Back to back meetings." He handed over an A4 sheet. "Here's your timetable."

"Fuck me." Brendan said as he perused his itinerary. "Anything exciting?"

"Your sister wants to have lunch with you."

"So nothing exciting then. She called you?"

"Yes. She said she has been trying to get hold of you on your mobile but you keep ignoring her calls."

"True." Brendan's phone had been ringing off the hook with her calls for the past few weeks. He had no time to indulge her maternal side and be reminded of what he was trying to forget and ignore.

"What shall I tell her?"

"That I have back to back meetings."

"Harsh." Paul said sottovoce.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing." He cleared his throat. "Those papers there need your signature. In particular Phil's got a couple of new employees for the Kilner project that he would like you to sign off on. Their CVs are on the pile. Then it's the usual stuff."

"Rock and roll."

"What shall I get you for lunch?"

"A sandwich. Surprise me with the filling. Something hot."

"Okay."

Brendan looked up as Paul typed onto his tablet. "Actually... have you heard of the Coffee Hut?"

"On Watergate? Isn't that where you live?"

Brendan raised an eyebrow. "Not far."

"Yeah I know the place. Classy. Good muffins. Tasty paninis."

"I want you to get my sandwich from there."

"I'll have someone deliver a couple of options."

"No. I want you to go there personally."

Paul was taken aback. "Me? Why."

It sounded like; I'm too busy for that shit.

Brendan wasn't going to admit the reason for his demand to himself and certainly not to his secretary.

He stared at Paul. "Because."

"Are you trying to buy the place? It's nice but it's small pickings. You wouldn't get a decent return on it."

"I just want a sandwich, Paulie, not the building it is made in."

"Oh, Okay."

"But get me as much information as you can on it. Manager. Employees..."

Paul smiled. "You are trying to buy it!"

Brendan put his index finger to his lips. "Shush."

I'm not. I am trying to track Caden down and using you to do it.

"Fine I'll keep things hush-hush."

"Good."

{~}

Ste stood outside Coffee Hut with Doug just shy of midday. The artist's shift was due to begin.

He was wearing one of Doug's t-shirts over the trousers he wore the night before. It was zany navy with small red polka dots. The fit was right. The taste wasn't.

"You want to come in for some lunch?"

"No. I should get going." Ste replied.

"Are you going to be okay?" The artist asked him for the nth time.

"Stop asking me that. I'm fine. I had a wobble last night but I'm over it now. I feel a bit embarrassed about making it into such a big deal. I totally went over the top. I think I was tired, me."

"I don't know. You're all strange. You're not being the Ste I know and love."

Ste pointed at his smile. "Better?"

"Not really. What are you going to do now?"

"I've got a few things to buy in town then I'm heading home. Ames doesn't work Fridays so we'll probably hang out."

"You could go to the post office." Doug suggested.

Ste felt himself clam up thinking about his last trip there. "Yeah. Maybe."

"You need to close your post office box, Ste."

"Yeah." Ste said evasively. "Yeah."

"By the way, I told Ames that you were working at the wine bar in case she brings up where you were last night." Doug said. "I didn't think she needed to know the truth. She'd go crazy if she knew. Besides there is nothing to tell anymore, is there, now that it is in the past?"

The pause before Ste's reply was too long but if Doug noticed he didn't comment on it.

"Yeah." Ste said vehemently. "It's over. I'm done with Brendan."

{~}

Brendan's money came in handy.

Ste's first stop was a body piercing parlour. He walked in and was confronted by a typical stereotype of a tattoo artist; leather bound, pierced and tattooed.

"You're back." The man commented.

Ste frowned. "You remember me?"

"A wordy tattoo on a bruised body. I wasn't going to forget that in a hurry. Something about being strong."

Ste lifted his shirt and turned to his side. The tattooist grinned in recognition as Ste covered his tattoo up once again.

"Yeah." The tattooist said. "You looked like you'd been in a serious fight."

"Maybe." Ste said quickly. "Anyway, I've got another job for you today. Something easier I think."

He made his request.

"Park up then." The tattooist smiled.

Ste sat on the couch and slowly took the t-shirt he had borrowed from Doug off. He lay back and gripped the arms of the chair hard as he closed his eyes.

{~}

His next stop was a phone shop. Within ten minutes he was out again with his purchase.

Then, the barbers. Since starting his escorting business he had kept a stylised short back and sides, a contrast to the floppy 'homemade' bowl cut he had growing up. From boyish to twinkalicious.

Now he wanted a different look. Something bold and fierce. Something that let the world know that he was no pushover. Something to remind himself that he was closing one chapter in his life and opening another.

While the barber dusted stray brown hair off him Ste looked at himself in the mirror with a steady gaze.

{~}

"Good afternoon, Ted." Brendan said speaking into his phone.

"Brendan! It's good to hear from you." The old man replied enthusiastically.

"I wanted to apologise once again for leaving so abruptly yesterday."

"Not at all. I understand. How did you enjoy the art exhibition?"

"Very much." He lied.

"I'm glad to hear it. It was good to see you out of the office. In fact I was wondering what you are doing this weekend?"

"Mind if I ask why?"

"I am inviting a few people to our countryside home. The whole thing will end with a special luncheon on Sunday. I was hoping you would be free to come up and join us."

"For the whole weekend?"

"Yes."

Brendan groaned internally. Ted Kilner and co. weren't bad people but he didn't do socialising at the best of times. And yet he knew the importance of buttering the old man up to clinch the deal.

So he said, "I did have something on," which he didn't, "but..."

"You might want to cancel whatever it was. I was planning to make you our guest of honour."

Brendan sat up straight behind his desk and held his phone firmly. "I'm listening."

"I am an old man, Brendan. I don't make decisions as quickly and impulsively as I used to but you have impressed me, young man. You come across as someone of good character. No nonsense but fair. A bit like me when I was younger." Kilner chuckled. "So I am seriously considering your offer."

"That's music to my ears, Ted."

"I think come Sunday I will have consolidated whether to accept it or not."

"Right."

Sentimental git. How will seeing me make a difference?

"Feel free to bring a plus one."

"Excuse me?"

"A partner? Is that the term? Boyfriend? I'm not sure. In my day there wasn't a word for it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Or are you single?"

Fuck. Is the old man hitting on me?

"I know that you are a homosexual, Brendan. It's hardly a secret. I am, as they say, open-minded."

Oh my God.

"I have never made the fact that I am gay a secret." Brendan replied coolly. "I just choose not to parade it at every opportunity. But, make no mistake, Ted, I am not ashamed."

"Well good. You shouldn't be. My son certainly isn't. In fact, he has expressed a keen interest in you."

Fredrick is gay? That one slipped by me. Is Kilner senior trying to pimp his own son out to me?

Hell no.

"So if you're single..." The other man said.

"I'm not." It was out before Brendan could stop himself. "I'm seeing someone."

There was a pause. "Right. Well, that makes sense. I told Freddy that the chance was slim to none that you were on the free market."

The old man wheezed out a laugh so Brendan was obliged to laugh along.

"We will be happy to welcome both you and your boyfriend in our home."

Shit.

"Thank you. He may not be able to make it actually." Because he doesn't exist.

Boyfriend.

So twee. So unnecessary. So made up.

"I won't take no for an answer. I'm sure you'll agree that family and loved ones are important so I'll see you both tomorrow."

Fuck.

Ted Kilner put the phone down without further ado.

Brendan pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb as he felt a tension build up behind his eyes.

"You okay, boss?"

He looked up to see Paul standing in the door holding his lunch in a rustic looking brown paper bag with a logo of the Coffee Hut on it.

"Yes." He took his lunch from his assistant. "Did you hear any of that?"

Paul shook his head. "Just walked in."

Brendan studied the lad. Nice enough looking. Good manners. Smart. Could put up with his shit.

Paul could make a decent fake boyfriend if he wasn't Brendan's assistant and straighter than a ruler. Asking Paul would be well outside the PA's job description.

Brendan bit into his roll. "What's this?"

"Philadelphia cheesesteak. The guy behind the counter recommended it. He said it was his mother's recipe."

"He was American?"

Brendan remembered reading on the artist biography at the art exhibition that Doug, the painter that Caden had called his friend yesterday, was from Philadelphia.

"Sounded like it."

"Was he the owner?"

"No. The owner flits between the café and an art gallery that he also owns just down the road. The guy who served me works between the two businesses too."

"What was his name?"

"The owner or the waiter?"

"Both."

"The waiter is Doug." Paul looked satisfied with himself. "I read his name badge. Don't know about the owner."

That was the artist's name. Fredrick Kilner had said,

'Doug Carter. One hell of a talent, Brendan. Abstract. Oil on Canvas. Visceral stuff. Digs a hole into your chest and tears your heart out.'

Bingo.

"Do you know him?" Paul asked curiously.

"Vaguely. He was one of the artists exhibiting last night."

"He obviously hasn't hit the big time if he's still juggling two jobs."

Brendan took another bite out of his sandwich. It was a comfort hug, a tender kiss and heart attack in a roll.

"Guess not."

{~}

"Amy!" Ste called out as he stepped into his house.

"Upstairs!" She called back.

She was full of smiles until she saw him properly as he walked into her room moments later.

"What have you done to your hair?"

He run his hand self-consciously over his shorter hair cut. "Cut it off."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Fancied a change."

Part of a new beginning. Post reality check. You wouldn't understand.

"Do you like it?"

"It makes you look tougher, I think. It'll grow on me." She smiled. "Doug said you were exhausted after your shift at the wine bar last night so you stayed at his."

"Yeah. Sorry I didn't come home."

"Don't be silly. It made sense to stay in town."

"Were the kids alright?"

"Yeah. Ann is amazing with them. Maybe we got the Campbell's wrong. When I got to their place the kids were already asleep so Phil helped me carry them home and put them to bed."

"He was probably snooping around for more clues about us."

"It's not cool to be sceptical, Steven."

That is when Ste noticed the pile of parcels and packages that covered her bed sheets.

"What's all this then?"

"They're yours." She said. "I went to the post office this morning to close your P.O. Box since you have avoided going yourself. It was chock full of these. Go on. Open them."

Ste felt his heart in his mouth as panic set in.

"Maybe later."

"Don't worry. There are no random letters." Amy said. "I think they are from the Dirty D."

Ste looked at them apprehensively.

Amy smiled. "I've always wondered what someone gives a rent boy as a farewell present."

She winked at Ste who playfully shoved her shoulder.

"Fuck off!"

"Probably dildos and mouth gags." Amy said. "Or butt plugs."

"Amy!"

"I'm just saying."

He tentatively opened present after present. There were no gifts from Kevin or the men that he had introduced Ste to; Trevor, Charles and Tom. No surprises.

The others, however, sent gifts that reflected the men they were. Leather driving gloves from classy Franco. A generic if expensive bottle of wine from dull Stanley. An embossed wallet and a designer satchel from extravagant Farid. A pair of engraved cuff links from debonair James. Hand cuffs from kinky Chris.

"Wow." Amy commented.

Sentimental Dan and Dave had given him a top of the range camera with a memory stick of pictures of them.

Playful Noah sent him a dildo with a hand written graphic user leaflet.

Amy brought her hands up to her face. "Oh my God. Put it away!"

Ste inspected the silicone phallus. He recognised the shape straight away. "It's actually his."

"Noah sent you a cast of his penis?" She clarified.

"Yeah. I think so."

"He's mental, int'he? Doug would love that. He's crazy for Noah."

"Yeah. Might give it him for his birthday."

They smiled at each other.

"This is going to sound weird but do you miss it? The escorting?" She asked. "It's been nearly a month now."

"No, not really." He said truthfully. "I'll miss some of the guys a bit more than others but none of them got to know the real me. I couldn't be me with them, you know."

Except with him. I was always me with him but he didn't buy it.

'You can drop the act now, Caden. You were great, okay. Your service is second to none. You live up to your own hype.'

"Yeah. True, but now you can get back out there and start dating. Meet someone nice."

"I don't know."

"Why? You're a right romantic, Ste. You'd make a great boyfriend."

"No one will have me now, Ames." He said tightly, voicing a latent fear.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean no one decent will stick around once they find out about what I've done."

"For one thing, they don't need to know. Lee doesn't know about everyone I slept with before him and I don't know about every woman he's been with."

"That's because you were probably his first, bless him."

"That's not funny. Anyway. If you do decide to tell your future boyfriend about your escorting and he can't accept and move on from it then he's not worth your time."

Ste wanted to confess all to Amy right then; how he had hoped that Brendan would see the man he truly was but the Irishman had actually seen him as a whore for hire just like Ste's other clients.

"Anyway these gifts are nice, aren't they?" He said looking down at his presents to avoid eye contact with her. He didn't want her to pick up on his desolation.

"They are lovely, Ste. Well except for the Dildo and the hand cuffs!"

I can pawn the lot off, Ste thought. That'll get us some money to help towards next month's bills and rent along with the cash Brendan gave me.

Then I can concentrate on a permanent solution to our financial problems.

"Did I get any other post?" He asked.

"No, sorry." Amy knew he was referring to news on potential mainstream jobs. "Not yet... but soon."

{~}

Brendan spent most of his Fridays in. He had never been the most sociable of creatures but over the last few months he had become a downright hermit. He would find any excuse under the sun to avoid going out for a pint or dinner with mates or hanging out with his sister or taking a trip across the Irish Sea to visit his parents.

Tonight after a long day, he got home to a tidy apartment. Mary had been. She left a note on the white blemish-free couch.

I am going to assume the eyeglasses worked on your 'friend'. See you next week.

Brendan smirked. Mary wasn't slow. She had put two and two together.

He put some Motown music on. He took his suit jacket off, loosened his tie, undid the top button on his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. Then he sat down with a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

Half the bottle was gone quicker than he had intended while he thought about a way to get out of the weekend at Kilner's place. Failing that he had to make up some excuse for not being able to bring his 'partner'.

There was a third option. The most dangerous one. He could find someone to act like his other half all in the name of sealing the deal on the Kilner Shipping property. The list of potential candidates wasn't long.

Walker was too abrasive and Kilner already knew him which could complicate matters.

Paul he had already rejected as a possibility.

Brendan had a few friends that he saw once in a blue moon. Darren was probably the best bet but that wasn't saying much. He was blond, good-looking and confident bordering on cocky but he was also happily married with a wife who was pregnant with their first child.

The truth was that even as he had spouted that bullshit about being in a relationship to Ted Kilner the first person to come to mind had been Caden.

21 years old. Slim but toned. Friendly. A bit shy. A bit naughty. Very discreet... Professional. Satisfaction 100% guaranteed.

Caden's profile had concisely defined the escort. Apart from his occasional moodiness he had been nothing less than professional and discreet. He had satisfied and more. He had been amazing and Brendan had been an arsehole to him at the end of their last encounter.

With liquor running through his veins Brendan saw sense in using the escort as his plus one. He was sure that the lad would be able to fake being his boyfriend. He was excellent at everything he had done with or to Brendan thus far.

The problem was that there were many reasons why hiring him for the job was a bad idea; practically, socially and emotionally.

Not that the option was relevant since Brendan had no way to contact the escort.

He kicked off his shoes and lay on the couch. Just as his eyes closed his phone rang.

He fumbled into his pocket.

"Hello." He said.

"Finally!" Cheryl said. "You're alive!"

"Hi sis. You again."

"If you actually answered my calls once in a while I would stop assuming the worst and stop bombarding you with calls."

"Really?"

"No! That's what family does, Bren. We care. I'm really starting to worry about you, you know."

"There is nothing to worry about. I'm great."

"You're slurring your words."

"I'm not." He said carefully.

"I'm coming over."

"Chez. There is no point. I'm-"

His phone started beeping indicating another incoming call. He didn't recognise the mobile number. He didn't take anonymous calls but this one provided a great excuse to end his conversation with his sister.

"I've got work on the other line." He said feigning disappointment.

"At ten o'clock on a Friday night? Tell them to piss off."

"That's not how it works. Sorry. Bye." He ended their call and answered the other line. "Hello."

"Brendan?"

If he hadn't been lying down, Brendan was sure that he would have stumbled in surprise.

"Brendan?"

"Yes."

"It's Caden."

"Caden, hi." Brendan was smiling. "I didn't think I'd ever hear from you again. I don't have your numbers anymore, I mean, number, or your e-mail address."

Shit. Chez was right. I am slurring.

"I'm sorry to call you at this time of night." Caden said. "I wanted to give you my new mobile number. I'm not going to operate online anymore and I've changed all my previous contact details."

"Why?" Brendan sat up to sober up.

"Let's just say that not everyone is a fan of mine."

"Have you been getting threats?"

"It doesn't matter. I want you to know that last night, my behaviour at the end... it won't happen again. I was tired." Caden's voice then mellowed, lowered and deepened. "I am here whenever you need me, Brendan."

"Who else have you given this number to?"

Concern? Jealousy? Brendan didn't know which it was. Maybe both.

"My elite clients only."

Caden didn't sound the same. He sounded hollow. Devoid of emotion. Not at all how Brendan remembered him.

"Do you want to know, Brendan? I'll tell you if you want."

The question reminded Brendan of when he was a young boy and his best friend had asked him whether he wanted to see and have a poke at the dead bird he had found in the woods.

Yes but no but yes but no thanks.

Caden must have taken Brendan's silence as a yes.

"Seven men. Eight once I tell you. I-"

He sleeps with other guys. He lets them touch him and kiss him...

"I don't want to know about them."

The emotion was jealousy. Brendan shut his eyes against the visual of Caden with seven men simultaneously pawing at him.

Did he respond to them the way he responded to Brendan? These elite men.

It turned the Irishman's stomach just thinking about it.

"Okay." Caden said softly.

Brendan took a deep breath. "I was hoping you were free this weekend. You remember the people I was with last night?"

"The Kilners."

"Yes. You know them?"

Because this is a shit idea if you do.

"No but they were pointed out to me by my friend."

Brendan relaxed. "They have invited me to their home."

"When?"

"Tomorrow until Sunday afternoon."

Brendan could hear shuffling. Caden was moving around wherever he was. "You want me for the whole weekend?"

Brendan cleared his throat. "Yes."

"That's going to be £2500."

Wow. Okay. Caden was being all business.

"I'll need some role-playing too." Brendan said just as business-like. Two could play that game. "I need you to act like my boyfriend. I want you to behave like you really care about me."

"Like I love you." Caden said so quietly Brendan barely heard him.

"Yes."

"For it to work you'll need to pretend you like me too." The escort said.

"I don't need to pretend." Brendan said truthfully. There was silence at the end of the line so he continued, "So you think you can do that?"

After a long pause, Caden's voice was sultry, "Yeah. This is what I do for a living, Brendan. You won't be disappointed. Where do you want to meet?"

{~}

Ste had told himself that he wouldn't get emotional and yet the minute he got off the phone to Brendan he burst into tears.

God, I am a complete wreck.

He had done it though. He had finally acknowledged what he should have grasped a while ago; that this was the best he could hope for.

He was an escort. A hustler. Rent-boy. Trick. Prostitute. Gigolo. Whore. Trade.

It may not have been what he wanted out of his life but it was what put food on the table and what he excelled in.

Now he had to accept it.

He kept pacing the kitchen as he looked down at the list of names and numbers of the other seven clients he intended to call. They were the Dirty Dozen minus Kevin and his three cronies.

Ste had lied to Brendan. The Irishman had not been the last man Ste called with his new number.

Brendan had been the first.