Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
I was a fucking coward.
And a realist. This wasn’t my world and like it or not, it never would be. I was a Parisian distraction, the side entertainment before Alistair returned to his books and artifacts. I wished I fit in. I wished I could be the man he needed and deserved.
But I wasn’t.
And it was time to let go.
16
ALISTAIR
My month in Paris had gone better than expected…by a long shot. But I was anxious to be done and go home. I had bigger things on my mind. Like Winnie.
He was coming with me to London for a few days, and I was hoping to convince him to stay longer. Either way, I wanted a plan for us. I wanted—
“What the hell happened yesterday?” Colin demanded as we filed out of yet another conference room for brunch with the Egyptian board of antiquities from Cairo.
Representatives from major museums and universities were here. Including Gerard with his husband at his side, playing the part of supportive spouse.
“Relax, mon cher,” Gerard advised. “I’m sure it was a misunderstanding. Your assistant was worked up about the ostracon, oui?”
“No, that wasn’t it. Winnie didn’t appreciate that you put me on the spot. He had a theory that you wanted to set me up, which of course is preposterous.” I shoved my hands into my pockets and smiled ruefully. “Unless you were hoping the homosexual content would throw me off guard in a public forum so you’d have witnesses to corroborate when you petitioned for Colin to take over the translations.”
Gerard opened his mouth and closed it. “Preposterous.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I suspect there’s international interest in that piece. It belongs to Egypt, but perhaps you want it for France.” I held up my hands. “I don’t know. But don’t ask for casual favors again, Gerard. I don’t have the time, and I will not be used as a pawn. I’ve spoken with our Egyptian contact and asked that the ostracon be sent to London for further study…by an expert. That’s me…I’m the expert. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must thank my assistant.”
Colin and Gerard shared a look as others milled behind them into the hallway. Those bloody wankers.
Politics and posturing weren’t my strength. Everyone wanted to be the number one leader in their field. Some would go to extreme measures, creating new alliances and discrediting peers.
I hadn’t forgotten that I’d been played for a fool five years ago. I’d never done well with personal distractions. Colin knew it. Was it odd that my boyfriend of four years, who’d insisted on our relationship being secret, was suddenly and quite publicly in love with one of my most important colleagues? Françoise thought so. Phillipe thought so. And while I’d alternately floundered and buried myself in work, Colin had established himself in France, translating his husband’s archeological discoveries.
Colin was good. But that was because he’d learned from the best.
Me.
Colin followed me and grabbed my elbow, pulling me aside, his face blotchy with anger. “Assistant? I think not. Who is that ghastly man?”
“My boyfriend,” I replied loudly.
“Boyfriend? Are you mad?”
“No, I’m gay,” I quipped.
Heads swiveled in our direction.
Colin ignored the scrutinous looks and whisper-hissed, “He’s not appropriate, Alistair. Don’t be a bloody fool. He’s too young, too naïve, and completely beneath you.”
“He’s perfect.”
“He’s ridiculous,” Colin spat.
I furrowed my brow. “Is that so? Who would be better…you? No, no, that ship sailed on a while ago, didn’t it? And I’m glad it did. I wasn’t at the time, but now…I know you did me a favor. I see you as you are, blind ambition and all. You and Gerard make a fine pair. Have him contact my assistant next week to discuss his project. In the meantime—and please do take this the right way…piss off.”
I flashed an ear-to-ear grin, whistling as I strolled toward the exit.
Oh, what do you know? I just came out, told off my pompous ex, and bloody hell, that felt good.
I couldn’t wait to tell Winnie about it.
I couldn’t wait to see Winnie, period.
On the taxi ride to the hotel, I’d googled “how to make long-distance relationships work.” Keep conversation current, plan regular video chats, set in-person meetups in advance…
This was going to be fine. More than fine. It was exciting because it was real life.
My life…and Winnie’s.
“Winnie? You wouldn’t believe my day. I’ll tell you about it at lunch. Are you hungry? I skipped the brunch. I don’t think anyone will notice and if they do, well…too bad.” I shrugged off my jacket, checking my phone for new messages. “We could try that restaurant by the Trocadero or the café with the waiter who always flirts with you.”
I paused, waiting for Winnie to sail into the room in his flowy ja-jas and tell me he couldn’t help it…everyone flirted with him.
The room was quiet, though. So quiet, it echoed.