Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“You’re gay?”
“Yes, I’m gay.”
“How is it I didn’t know that?” Jeremy asked.
“I also like to ski, and in my free time, which is very limited because I’m working for you seven days a week, I’m a pretty accomplished chef. You didn’t know those things about me either because, like who I date, they have nothing to do with our work.”
Feeling guilty for not taking more interest in a person he’d known for so long and who did so much for him, Jeremy opened his mouth to apologize, but Bill held out his hand, stopping him.
“I’m a damn good manager, Jeremy. I get that you were born with family connections and a truckload of talent, but you’re not the only person around who comes with that pedigree. Getting where you are didn’t happen alone, even though you might not always remember it.”
“I know that. There’s always a crew of people around me, telling me how to live my life. You think I don’t know that?” Well, that was the opposite of apologizing. Crap. Jeremy drew in a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Yes, you did, and it’s fine. It’s not the first time you’ve snapped at me, and it won’t be the last. Now, if we’re done here, get out of my office so I can figure out how to spin the whole ‘Jeremy Jameson is gay’ thing in a way that lets me unwind it later without offending people on both sides of the fence.”
“What does that mean?”
Bill was losing his patience; his stiff posture and pinched expression made that clear. “It means the homophobes are going to be pissed you’re gay, and those of us who actually are gay and have dealt with everything that entails are going to be pissed when you change your mind about it as if your sexual orientation is a jacket you can take off and put on whenever you have a whim.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m not trying to make a statement. I just want….” To have someone to be with while he slept in different cities every night, someone who would keep him company and make him laugh, someone who would remind him that what he was doing was fun, not a chore. “I want Reg with me on this tour.” Jeremy stood up, dragged his hands through his hair, and said, “The press can use whatever label they want about that, but I’m not changing my mind. End of story. Make it work.”
He had one foot out the door when Bill said, “Make sure you tell your mother about this, okay? We don’t need her to get hysterical if she hears about your boyfriend from someone else on camera.”
Dammit. He hated when Bill was right about something he didn’t want to do. And talking about anything, let alone his personal life, with a woman who spent her life prancing on the corner of vodka and valium most definitely fell into that category.
“All right.” Jeremy slumped his shoulders in anticipation of the visit he knew he needed to have. “I’ll take care of notifying Paula Radcliffe. You deal with the rest of the world.”
“I got the easy part,” Bill teased.
“I know.”
STANDING OUTSIDE the steep, curving steps leading to his mother’s hillside Spanish colonial house, Jeremy struggled to make himself walk toward the front door, his tension rising with every passing minute he remained outside staring at the meticulously trimmed shrubbery. He pulled his shirt collar into his mouth and thought about getting back in his car and handling this with a telephone call or, better yet, telling Bill to send someone else to talk to his mother. When his phone rang, he slumped in relief and answered quickly.
“Hello.”
“Hey, superstar, how goes life? You change your mind yet?”
His smile came easily in reaction to Reg’s deep, happy voice. “Not changing my mind. In fact, if you could get out here sooner, that’d be great.”
“How soon?”
Rubbing his palm over his face, Jeremy glanced at the house again, “Now?” He coughed. “I’m kidding. I just wish you could be here to talk to my mother instead of me, or at least to witness the horror firsthand so we could recover together.”
“It can’t be that bad. Your mom seems very nice.”
“You’re basing this on her interviews?” He snorted. “My mother is a very, very good actress. If you saw her on TV, you can pretty much count on the fact that she was playing a role, even if the role was of Paula Radcliffe. In real life, she has a meltdown if she thinks her staff bought sale Diet Coke instead of full-price Diet Coke because she’s sure they taste different.”
“Man, you rich people are weird.”
“It’s not me, it’s her,” Jeremy said defensively. “I’m perfectly nor—”
“Dude, she’s your mom. Put on your big-boy drawers, go make small talk, and then take off. Don’t make more of it than it is and get all hysterical.”