Lunchtime – Red Squirrel Diner
"Justin!" the young woman exclaimed in surprise with a smile as she looked up to see her friend approaching. "How did you know where to find me?" To her chagrin, Daphne had forgotten to charge her cell phone previously when she had gone to take it out of her purse; it was currently lying forlornly at the bottom of her bag disregarded and useless. She was glad that her friend had somehow managed to track her down, though, because she had been dying to know what had transpired since the last time they had talked the other day.
"Hey, Daphne," her friend responded halfheartedly as he slid into the opposite side of the booth from her and nodded; his face, which normally displayed at least a wisp of a smile when he greeted her, was noticeably solemn. "I called your house and your mom told me where you were," he explained.
"Oh," she responded, furrowing her eyebrows in concern. She knew her friend well enough by now to know something was definitely wrong. "Have you eaten lunch yet?"
"No," he told her softly. "Not really hungry," he added. Ever since he had awakened this morning and discovered what Brian had found out, his stomach had been tied up in knots.
Now Daphne knew for certain that something was wrong – if Justin hadn't eaten lunch yet and was telling her he wasn't hungry, that was definitely a warning sign. "Okay, spill, Justin," she scolded him. "What's happened? Did you have your talk with Nico? Is that it? Did he get upset when you broke things off with him?"
Justin averted his gaze as he looked down at the laminate-top table and sighed. "No, I didn't want to do it over the phone, so I was waiting until tomorrow to speak to him in person when he comes back down to visit. Actually, I guess I at least need to call him and make sure he's still planning on coming down. I haven't answered the last couple of calls he's made – I let it go directly to voice mail and then deliberately called him back when I knew he wouldn't be there so I could leave the excuse that I've just been too busy to talk lately." He brushed a hand through his hair before raising his head to meet his friend's perplexed gaze. "He's got to realize, though, that something's going on. He knows me too well to buy that excuse for long."
He took a deep breath and blew it between his lips before blurting out, "Daphne, everything is so fucked up right now – if you only knew. God, how stupid I've been!"
His eyes filled with tears as Daphne looked at him with great concern. She knew Justin had been torn regarding his feelings for Nico and Brian Kinney, but he hadn't been this upset before, just undecided as to what to do. "Justin, what happened since the last time we talked? Did you talk to Brian, then? Is that what this is all about?"
"Shit, Daphne – I don't know where to even start; everything is so fucked!" he repeated as he sighed again and placed his head in his hand.
"Well, you can start from the time we talked the other day," she said in an almost businesslike manner. "And don't leave any details out."
Several minutes later, Justin had done just that – starting with Brian's unexpected phone call asking for his help right after she had left, to their meeting before Chagall arrived, and Brian's shouting match with his now-former fiancé. With a red face, he had even told her what had happened between them afterward and how Brian had explained why he had agreed to be engaged to Chagall in the first place.
"I knew it!" she exclaimed in triumph as Justin told her about the business deal between the two men. "I knew someone like that wouldn't be caught dead getting married to an asshole like that arrogant Chagall!" She smiled. "I also could tell there was a definite attraction between the two of you, and now I know just how much." With a twinkle in her eye, she leaned forward in the booth's vinyl seat to whisper so she wasn't overheard, "So how was the sex? Is he as great in bed as he looks?"
"Daphne!" Justin chided her, his face turning an even darker shade of red.
"Oh, come on, Justin! Don't be such a prude! Spill!"
Justin unexpectedly glared at her. "Sex is not the problem, Daphne!" he hissed. "Brian's not even speaking to me right now!"
Daphne was aghast. "Why? I saw the way he was looking at you – How did the two of you go from having great sex to not speaking to each other?"
The two friends quieted briefly as the waitress interrupted them for a few seconds to place Daphne's plate containing a hamburger and onion rings down in front of her before Justin could explain further. "He…..woke up this morning and found Nico's wedding ring lying on top of my dresser and jumped to the wrong conclusion. I tried to go over to Kinnetik to explain what it was doing there and he practically threw me out. He was in the middle of a meeting and didn't want anything to do with me."
"No!" she squealed; she quieted down as she noticed some of the other nearby patrons giving her a strange look over her boisterous reaction. She looked at her friend sympathetically. "I see why you look the way you do now," she said softly with a knowing smile. "You really do have a big mess on your hands."
Justin snorted. "That's a mild way of putting it. I started out being in the middle and now it looks like by the time this is all over with I'm going to be outside in the cold. Maybe I deserve it, though – especially with Nico. He's going to be hurt when I tell him I don't want to marry him." He huffed at the irony. "Maybe I should after all – it looks like that's the only guy who's going to be interested in me now."
Daphne held out an onion ring to her friend, who finally took it after a few seconds to take a bite. He hadn't eaten all day and he was actually starving, if only he could keep it down.
"Justin, don't be so melodramatic," she gently chided him. "You're barely twenty-one! You've got your whole life ahead of you yet – you're hardly what I would call an old bachelor destined to spend the rest of his days on the front porch in a rocking chair."
Justin stole another onion ring from her plate as he smiled back at her ruefully. "Yeah, I guess so," he conceded. "But I really like Brian, Daphne. I mean, I like Nico too – as a friend – but with Brian it's different; it's special." He sighed. "I never felt like this before with any other man," he couldn't help admitting. "The way he made me feel last night…." His voice trailed off as he looked into space almost dreamily in recollection before he shook his head to reprimand himself and return to blunt reality. "Well, the dream's over now. I might as well just used to it. It's gone out the window just like my business is going to."
Daphne's eyes narrowed. This was not like the friend she was used to – Justin normally didn't give up so easily, which led her to believe that he really did care deeply for this stubborn, obstinate, and bull-headed man. And the fact that Brian had apparently gotten so worked over the situation without giving Justin a chance to explain also told her that he wasn't the only one who cared deeply. "Justin Taylor, tell me you are not giving up," she told him sternly.
He sighed. "When I left Kinnetik, I didn't feel that way. But the farther I got away from his agency and the more time I had to dwell on it, the more I realized I can't change Brian's mind if he won't even see me. Maybe it's just not meant to be – Brian or my business." He idly pushed his half-eaten onion ring around in the ketchup smeared on Daphne's plate before adding, "If Nico didn't live there already, I'd consider moving back to Chicago. At least I had a client base already established there."
"Justin, you do not mean that!" Daphne said in reprimand.
Justin let out an exasperated breath. "I don't know what I mean right now," he admitted, shaking his head. "What a mess," he murmured sadly.
Daphne's heart broke over her friend's distress but it strengthened her resolve at the same time. She wasn't about to tell Justin what she had planned, though, because something told her he would definitely try and talk her out of it and she had no intention of doing that. She figured he had enough on his plate at the moment.
"Just don't do anything rash," she pleaded. "Don't give up working for what you want, including Brian. Maybe he just needs a few days to calm down and listen to reason. Give it some time."
Justin eyed her sadly. "I'll try," he finally promised. "But maybe in the meantime, I'd better start stocking up on Ramen noodles."
She laughed softly as she stood up.
"You're not deserting me, too, are you?" Justin asked her, only half-kidding.
She slid her barely-eaten food over to his side of the table and grabbed the small slip of paper with her total on it. "Not a chance, Taylor," she assured him, smiling. "I just realized how late it's getting and I have somewhere to be in about an hour. You finish up my lunch for me, okay?" She looked him over carefully. "You need some more skin on those bones…I'll call you when I get home and maybe we can hang out later."
Justin nodded at her gratefully; at least he had one friend left at the moment. "Sounds good – I could use a little diversion before Nico comes. I'm not looking forward to that," he admitted to her. "But I know it has to be done."
The young woman felt the need to reach over and squeeze his hand for a few seconds. "I know it won't be easy," she agreed. "But if he's as good a friend as he seems to be, I think he'll understand eventually."
Justin gazed up at her skeptically; he tried to force a smile on his face but he just couldn't; things were too messed up at the moment. "I hope so," he told her softly. "I don't want to lose him as a friend."
She nodded, twisting her lips into a sympathetic smile. "I know," she replied as she turned to go. "Hey, I'll call you when I get home, okay?"
He nodded as he watched her go before turning back to the plate of food and taking a few stabs at trying to eat a little something.
Plopping down money with the cashier on her way out, Daphne stepped out into the sunshine-laden day and glanced inside to see Justin slowly playing with her food; he wasn't exactly gobbling it up for someone who had to be hungry by now. She shook her head in exasperation – she wasn't sure which man was the most stubborn, but she was about to find out. She began to run as she saw the Metro bus pulling up just down the street, heading in the opposite direction from her apartment. She had a much more important errand to take care of first before she went home.
Brian watched Lance Miller, the CEO of Swanson Electronics, closely as the distinguished-looking, dark-haired man studied the graphics pitch for his possible new ad campaign. Miller had been getting tired of the same old, worn-out promotions his current ad agency had been giving him and at the advice of a former fraternity brother who was a client of Kinnetik's, had decided to give this other agency a try to see if they had any better grasp on where he wanted to lead his company in the future.
Now, as he took a good look at what Kinney's team had come up with, he couldn't help being impressed by the large storyboard staring back at him displaying a dynamic, every-changing world with a pair of hands holding it up underneath; the slogan "Power at Your Fingertips" was displayed in dramatic, bold script at the bottom in a modern-looking font. Surrounding the globe were stylistic representations of the major brands his company stocked. The overall look was fresh and clean but also contemporary and brash. In short, it was just the type of novel approach he had been looking for in his present advertising agency, but they had dismally failed to deliver what he had been wanting.
Brian didn't even notice he was holding his breath as he studied the other man's face in a futile attempt to try and read his mind, or at the very least decipher the expression on his face. Brian decided the man must be an excellent poker player in his spare time, however, because he couldn't tell a thing by staring at his stony, totally neutral face.
What seemed like an hour but was actually only a few minutes slowly ticked by in silence until finally the man turned in his leather conference chair to face him with his verdict. Brian tried not to read too much into it when he saw a slight smile break out on the man's face, but his heart skipped a beat nonetheless when the CEO finally said simply without preamble, "It's perfect – exactly what I had in mind, and exactly what my current ad agency totally fails to understand." He turned to study the storyboard one more time in appreciation before he turned back around in his chair. "How soon can your people have the entire promotion ready? I want to get going on this ASAP."
Brian pasted on his cool, professionally-looking game face but inside he was doing somersaults of jubilation and triumph. Finally, he was seeing an end to his money woes and a new beginning for his agency. Now the sky was the limit and he was more than ready to break through, straight into the upper stratosphere. "How does the middle of next week sound?" He knew his entire team would have to practically work nonstop to get his promise fulfilled, but it would be worth so much more than the thousands of overtime he would have to pay in exchange for its completion on time.
Miller stood up and pushed back from the conference table, signaling his agreement. He stuck out his hand to firmly shake Brian's as he nodded and said, "Sounds good. I'll be looking forward to the finished product. In the meantime, if your accountant will have the papers drawn up we can take care of the legal mumbo-jumbo, as soon as I get back to my office later today I'll have my own accountant wire you a third of the fee to help get things off the ground."
"Thank you for your confidence in my agency, Mr. Miller. I won't let you down," Brian vowed to him with a warm smile as he stood up and clasped the older man's hand; he didn't have to pretend about how he felt this time – he was feeling downright giddy inside over his success. One third of the fee for Miller's campaign would come to a cool two million dollars – the biggest client he had snagged by far since opening up his business approximately a year ago, and the savior of his dreams to stay afloat. Hell, with that kind of influx of capital he could more than stay afloat now – this would enable him to lure the biggest and brightest talent to his agency and help ensure that his business would remain the top-grossing firm in the city, maybe in the entire northeast.
"The name's Lance," the man corrected him with a smile. "Something tells me we're going to be seeing a lot of each other in the future." He turned to go but just before he did, he stopped once more to take a final look at the promo board. "Yep," he said. "Very impressive artwork and ideas. Make sure you reward the artist well for that one, Brian – he's got the right pulse on what's going on today in the marketplace. He's a keeper – better compensate him properly before he gets away," he told the other man with a wink.
"Yes, sir," Brian told him. "My assistant will be in touch with your office this afternoon. It's been a pleasure."
With a nod of his head, the CEO turned and opened the door to leave; as he departed, the conference room was once again bathed in silence, just like it had been before.
Brian sat back down, not quite ready to go out into the hallway again and face the incessant drone of questions and comments that would no doubt occur. He found himself somewhat surprised that he wasn't feeling as euphoric over what had just happened as he thought he would. His financial troubles finally appeared to be behind him, and he would soon be back on track where he needed to be. Chagall was thankfully out of his life now for good, too. So why did he have such a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach? Why didn't he feel like rushing out to Woody's to buy everyone a round of celebratory drinks?
He stared over at the artwork that had saved his ass and he knew the reason why – what he hoped would turn into a physical expression of triumph between him and a certain fiery, passionate blond wasn't going to happen now. He couldn't do what he had been hoping he could do and rush over to Justin's apartment to push him down on the bed and fuck him senseless out of sheer joy and gratitude. No, rather it was that he wouldn't. Not now; not after what he had found out this morning. He could still feel the sensation of having the breath knocked out of him as he reran in his mind what he had seen on top of that dresser.
It wasn't so much that he wouldn't fuck a married man – he had done it before, mainly because he thought the other man wanted it and it would normally help him win an account. After all, it took two to tango, so to speak, and he wasn't the married man cheating on his little wife at home. And after he was done with him, it wasn't like he had the least desire to see the person again. He had him, he had gotten what he wanted, and then he could move on.
Except this time he didn't feel that way. This time Justin was all he could think about, despite his previous vow that the entrance to his heart had a permanent "no vacancy" sign attached to it. Despite the fact that even though he had finally managed to capture the elusive blond and fuck him senseless last night, it hadn't been nearly enough; instead of satisfying his curiosity it had only heightened his craving for more. What was it about this particular man that intrigued him and occupied his thoughts so?
Justin had tried to explain earlier, but he had been in no mood to listen; Swanson Electronics' account had meant so much to him that it was all he could focus on, and the unexpectedly sharp, bitter feelings that had arose in him this morning like bile in his throat had still been much too raw and fresh to even entertain the idea of listening to what Justin had wanted to say later.
But now that he had a chance to reflect on what had happened, he couldn't help wondering just what Justin had wanted to tell him. It had taken a lot of chutzpah for him to show up here on his own turf; was it just possible that Justin had some logical reason for why a wedding ring of all things was occupying a prominent spot on his dresser? What other explanation could there be, though, except that he had somehow managed to run off and get married to his little chum from Chicago?
But then again, hadn't he been hiding a big secret of his own from him? Hadn't he led Justin to believe that he had every intention of marrying Chagall when he had merely been living a lie? Justin didn't seem like the kind to play games; was it just possible somehow that there was some other reason why he had that damn ring on top of his dresser?
As much as he wanted to believe that, his pride still wouldn't let him entertain that possibility; Brian Kinney didn't go running back to any man. Straightening his shoulders, he pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. It was time to finish reeling in his big money-making fish and get his financial backing wrapped up. Placing the priceless story board under his arm and turning it face inward in a subconscious effort to try and block out the artist responsible for it from his mind, he turned to walk over to the conference room door to open it.
He almost ran smack into a young, brown-haired woman wearing a determined expression on her 5' 1" frame as she reached to open the door at the same time. He looked up to see his assistant rushing down the hallway toward them with an apologetic expression on her face.
"I'm sorry, Brian, when I told her you were in a meeting and couldn't be disturbed, she took off down the hall looking for the conference room anyway and I couldn't stop her." Unlike Justin, Daphne didn't wait to get directions; she merely happened to have been lucky enough to pick the right direction toward the conference room and had taken off in a spirited sprint in her goal to find Kinnetik's CEO.
Brian recognized the feisty-looking brunette as Justin's friend from the other day and sighed; had someone decided to send in a petite St. Bernard to try and run interference for him? "It's all right, Cynthia," he told his assistant somewhat wearily. "I'll handle this."
Cynthia scrutinized the young woman a few seconds before nodding at Brian and turning to walk back to her desk, wondering silently why someone like that would garner Brian's permission to meet with him, especially without an appointment.
"Why, if it isn't the Welcome Wagon," Brian told her as he looked her over. "Did you come bearing a basketful of convenient excuses and contrite declarations of apology?"
Daphne stared at him icily. "Well, you obviously remember who I am, so at least we can dispense with the introductions," she stated. "I need to talk to you," she added, stating the obvious.
Brian smirked at her, but he had to give this spunky not-barely-a-woman credit; she wasn't backing down from him and his usual charm, which had seemed to mesmerize her the other day, was apparently not working like it normally did. "By all means, uh….Daphne, right?"
She pursed his lips together as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's right, Mr. Kinney. Now where can we go to talk?"
Amused hazel eyes latched onto defiant brown ones as, with a wave of his hand, Brian ushered Daphne back into the conference room and latched the door behind him. He wasn't quite sure why he wanted to make sure they weren't disturbed, but he figured at the very least this conversation should be quite entertaining.
"Drink?" he asked, motioning over to the nearby refreshment bar that held bottled water, juice, and coffee.
"No, thanks" she said coolly as she made herself at home in a nearby seat at the table.
Brian shrugged as he walked over and grabbed a cardboard cup to pour some black coffee and sugar in it. He returned to join Daphne at the table, placing the precious storyboard face up on the table next to him.
Daphne couldn't help peering over at the artwork curiously and instantly recognized the artist. "Justin did that." It wasn't a question the way she framed it - it was a statement. Justin hadn't mentioned how he had helped Brian the other day, but she wasn't surprised that it apparently had to do with one of the man's ad campaigns; her friend was always helping out in ways like that, sometimes to his own detriment. After all, look what it got him this time – a heap of heartache. Well, hopefully, she could do something about that right now…..
Brian hid his initial surprise at her statement; how did she know Justin had been the designer? "Yeah, as a matter of fact, he did," he found himself admitting to her; he wasn't in the mood to elaborate any further, however, as he prodded her, "Can we just move on here, Daphne? I have a lot of work to do today." Not to mention getting the paperwork drawn up for this account so I can get the seed money in the bank ASAP….
She glared back at him. "Well, far be it for me to interfere with your business activities," she declared. "But you need an explanation for what you saw this morning."
Brian figured there was no point in playing dumb with this particular person. "Is that right? Did the fairy godfather of weddings send you here to plead his case?"
Daphne eyes narrowed in aggravation. "No, he didn't – he doesn't even know I'm here. This was my idea."
Brian turned to stare over at the window as he plastered a nonchalant look on his face. "Well, you wasted your time." After a few seconds, he returned his gaze back to his visitor as he added, "I don't need an explanation, nor do I need to discuss it with someone's fag hag, either."
Daphne chose not to rise to the bait as she retorted defensively, "Well, I think you do. I just got through talking to Justin about what happened. You saw Nico's ring, didn't you?"
Brian's face remained neutral, but inside he was impressed by how this young woman got right to the point and how much her statement hurt. Why should he care, anyhow, that she had just verified that Justin was, indeed, married to that hot tamale? If Justin wanted to play house with his little friend, let him; just don't expect him to play the convenient little mistress on the side. "What if I did?" he finally responded cavalierly. "It's none of my business if he wants to be a happy little housewife and enjoy fucking other men as an extra-curricular activity."
"You jumped to the wrong conclusion, that's what," she told him flatly, her eyes boring into his. He wasn't fooling her for a second, she thought smugly. I think someone's doing a shitty job of disguising his jealousy here, which means you care just a little TOO much, Mr. Kinney…..
Brian inexplicably felt the twinges of a migraine coming on as he stared into her unflinching eyes. "And just what other conclusion would I come to? Is he an actor in a play? Is he a wedding planner by day and a jeweler by night? Is he a thief who steals rings and pawns them to keep his business afloat?"
Daphne lightly rubbed her fingers along the curved, chrome edge of the table as she replied softly this time, "No….he's a guy who made a bad decision and now he's paying for it."
Brian set his jaw as he considered that statement. "Well, it's not my fault if he married the wrong hubby. Why am I even involved in this discussion?" he said suspiciously. "Are you trying to hit me up for money so he can see a divorce attorney?"
Daphne turned to stare at him incredulously, her patience for both men wearing out as she snapped, "He's not married, you idiot! That's the whole point!"
Brian's eyes widened at that pronouncement; his headache pain was temporarily forgotten as he found himself promptly asking, "What do you mean?" The question flew from his lips before he realized how needy that made him sound. If he was trying to come across as indifferent, he had just failed miserably as he silently berated himself. But if it was the truth…...He turned to look directly into her eyes, unable to hide his anticipation as he waited for her answer.
Daphne sighed. "Nico asked him to marry him last weekend, and despite his better judgment, he told him he would."
Brian's face fell; even if he wasn't married to him yet, that still meant that Justin had told him yes. Had he read the look in the blue eyes wrong? Was Justin in love with this other man? As he thought about the intense looks of longing and desire that he had seen in the sapphire crystal eyes and recalled the way that Justin's body had responded so passionately to his, and the way he had kissed him so urgently last night, he couldn't believe that. This was not just a case of mutual attraction and lust; he knew that Justin wouldn't be the kind of man that gave his feelings away so lightly. No, Justin had deep feelings for him, he was sure of that; and if he were honest with himself, he felt the same way toward him.
He found himself doing something he never thought in a million years he would as he admitted, "I don't understand, Daphne. He has the ring and he said yes to the proposal. What part am I missing?"
She shook her head as she thought about what a mess her kindhearted, misguided friend had managed to get himself into. How was she going to explain this to the man he really cared for? She twisted her lips as she wryly admitted, "Justin would kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but he's…he's been kind of lonely in the Pitts since he moved here," she began. "With starting his new business and all, he began to feel like he needed someone around for emotional support." She looked into Brian's eyes, which were peering back at her intently as she took a breath. It's now or never, girl, she told herself.
The explanation came tumbling out, however outrageous it might sound. "He told me he was attracted to you, but he knew it was a hopeless cause because you were already engaged to be married and he didn't want to come between the two of you. He and Nico have been really good friends for a long time, and he started to feel that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have his best friend as his husband." She shook her head in exasperation over what her friend had done. "He….He thought that maybe since they were such close friends that he could grow into love with him eventually, and he told me Nico had been so anxious for him to say yes that before he knew it, he found himself agreeing to it."
Brian stared at her with his mouth gaping open; that had to be the most ridiculous reason he had ever heard for why someone would agree to be married, but in a strange sort of way, when it came to Justin, it actually made sense. Was it just possible…? "But the ring…" he argued.
"Nico had it with him when he proposed, and wanted Justin to wear it around his neck as a sort of engagement ring until they got married," she explained. "He realized almost as soon as Nico had left what a big mistake he had made, but he wanted to wait until Nico came down to see him this weekend to tell him in person." She peered into the hazel eyes, noticing to her satisfaction a slight shift in Brian's expression. She allowed herself just a glimmer of hope that perhaps he was finally getting it…..
"Why would he think he needed to get married to get laid?" he pointed out. "The way he looks, any guy would be more than happy to help him with that." Of course, Brian didn't even want to think about that – if anyone was going to be fucking that particular blond, it was going to be him.
Daphne huffed in irritation. "It wasn't about getting laid, Brian – it was about companionship and having someone to experience life with." She eyed him closely. "I'm not sure you're the best candidate for that," she admitted tersely. "But you're the one he picked anyway." She softened her tone as she added, "Just don't break his heart the way he's about to break Nico's. He's worried enough as it is that he's going to ruin their friendship."
She paused to study his face before revealing, "He really cares about you." She took a breath before deciding she needed to say one more thing; as much as she hated to say this to the man that her friend deeply cared about, for his sake she had to. "But if all you want out of Justin is just another fuck, then I'd prefer you not even see him again or even tell him that we had this conversation – he's going to be pissed enough anyway if he finds out. But if you really do care about him – and I happen to think you just might – then you need to go talk to him."
Brian looked down at the table as he tried to digest all this information. Somehow in a crazy, fucked-up sort of way, it all fit. Justin hadn't known until yesterday that his engagement to Chagall had simply been a big ruse and merely a business arrangement; the blond had tried to resist his advances toward him on the ship out of apparently some twisted, ethical sense of morality but had eagerly responded to his touches and caresses later, once he had explained to him that he had no intention of marrying that pompous SOB. And he had to admit, he hadn't really given Justin much time, even if he had wanted to, to explain just what that wedding ring was doing on top of his dresser. After all, once he had explained to Justin about Chagall, there hadn't been much time between their little talk and their rush to get into bed to take care of much more pleasurable matters. And Justin had appeared here earlier in an attempt to explain. Would he have done that if he was really married to the guy? Was it just remotely possible that what Daphne was telling him was true?
He had no way of being sure, but he could feel his heart thawing just a bit in response, and hope persistently creeping into his soul as he considered what she had just told him. He didn't know if it was all a big, elaborate lie, but he did know one thing - he definitely wanted it to be true; he really did care for Justin, and he wanted to believe that Justin cared just as much for him.
Daphne stared at him anxiously, trying to determine what was going through the handsome man's mind. She thought she had seen a flicker of understanding flash in his eyes but she couldn't be sure. "Brian?" she urged him softly.
He stared at her for a few seconds before reaching over to grab the land line phone and pick up the receiver. Taking a breath, he pressed a button on the phone and waited briefly before saying into the intercom, "Cynthia – you'll need to reschedule the rest of my appointments for the day – I'm going out."