Page 52 of Romeo vs Romeo

Roman’s lips parted, and he let out a small, barely audible gasp. “But?”

I held my breath and observed Roman for a short while. With that kind of money, he would never have to struggle to pay rent again. He would never lack anything in his life. And I could make him happy. It was the least I could do after he had given me a new lease on life. But… “It’s timed for my twenty-fifth birthday,” I said.

“December sixteenth,” Roman said.

It made my heart fuzzy that he remembered. “Yes,” I said in a grave tone.

“And if you turn against him…” Roman floated the idea.

I simply shook my head. “My mother is the trustee. And if she finds a way to look past the backstabbing, she will never forgive me for being born gay. Maybe if I go to a conversion camp.”

Roman winced hard. “Don’t even joke about that.”

I closed my hands around his face and kissed him. We weren’t going to find answers in his bed. Time would tell.

If things dragged out for another two months, I would gain access to my money. It meant two more months of pretending that being near my parents wasn’t driving me crazy. Two more months of sneaking out to see Roman, lying about my evening absence, and returning before either of them suspected I was up to no good.

The only solution was if Roman and his rebels won the fight without involving me. That way, my father would lose only thelocation for his hotel, and my trust fund would find its way to me safely, and we would all live happily ever fucking after.

Some tiny, stupid part of me wanted to pray for this outcome.

But Harold Langley had other plans.

On Monday morning, pretend-working with my father, I saw Robert Jacobs break their no-meeting rule. In my father’s office, as the three of us sat and my phone picked up the details of the conversation that I hoped I would never have to use, I watched my fate be decided for me.

“They have fucking royals, Robert,” Father spat. “Royals, diplomats, A-list stars meddling on social media. If we’re not quick, they’ll win their goddamn landmark battle, and we’ll look as guilty as an Irish priest in the sacramental wine cellar.”

I ground my teeth and forced myself to smile so I wouldn’t look even more suspicious. When he was off the leash, my father was regrettably an ass.

Robert chortled at the joke and shook his head soothingly. “You worry again, Harry. The landmark rulings take forever, and you have an army of paralegals whose only job is to play Ping-Pong with them.”

“I’m telling you, Robert. If we don’t get this done, people will start looking into your stake in my company. You better start sweating, goddammit.” I was certain Father would slam his fist against the table, but he resisted.

Jacobs leaned back in his chair and threaded his fingers together. “What do you think, kid?”

“Stop fooling around, Robert,” Father grumbled, unknowingly rescuing me. “What doyouthink? It’s time to put the cards on the table.”

Jacobs directed his polite smile to my father, and his ears perked up. “The way I see it, Harry, you have two options. Either go down the long, hard road of swatting away the complaints that Layla Zahran keeps filing, giving them all the time theyneed, or make this thing happen. Go there yourself and make that ridiculous man sign the bill of sale. Oh, they’ll complain and cry and moan, but the dust will settle. The public has a very short attention span, my friend. Once the battle is lost, they’ll turn to the next shiny headline.”

“Occupy first, negotiate later,” Father said.

And whether I wanted it or not, I was put on a course that could only lead us all to Hell.

Roman

Layla Zahran’s office overlooked the Hudson River. I hadn’t imagined that activism could put you in an office like this, but Layla’s Equal Justice Initiative was a nice small building on the riverfront, and the two walls of her office were made of glass.

“Wow,” I said. “This is really nice. I don’t know why I imagined you working from a booth in KFC.”

Layla chuckled, her warm chocolate eyes melting. “We have a good track record getting Goliaths to pay the bill.”

“I like that,” I said. The overcast sky above New York City warned of coming rain. “Hopefully, this Goliath will be worth your time.”

Layla folded her arms on her glass desk. “When you’ve been up against these guys for long enough, you soon realize that the most satisfying reward for your time and effort is seeing justice prevail.”

“I bet it is,” I said. “Still, I’ll be glad to see Harold Langley cover the bill when it’s all over.” I shifted in my seat and rubbed my hands together. “The trouble is that we think Harold’s going to be a little more aggressive now. My boyfriend…” The wordrang through my head with a deep, rich echo that made all of me a little warmer. The rebel was subdued. Fighting off a smile, I cleared my throat. “My boyfriend is pretty sure that Langley will resort to intimidation and force.”

“That is new but not unexpected,” Layla replied.

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