Page 107 of Sapphire Spring

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Sometimes losing was a blessing.Falling just short of a prize could be its own reward. Naser had learned thisearly in life, and he suspected his acceptance of this cold truth formed thebasis of his sister’s judgment of him as someone who constantly avoided risk.

The truth was more complicated.

When the interview for a job that seemed like your dream gigdidn’t result in a hire, when the response from the Northeastern university ofyour choice took the form of a polite but dismissive paragraph, or—morerecently—when the man who’d haunted your fantasies for years erupted into a fitof terrifying violence and capped it off by using the cruelest nickname for youhe could think of, you were freed. Freed from having to upend an orderly andfairly enjoyablelife to make room for something that mightbring you the occasional moment of joy, but at the cost of being humbled anddegraded while you struggled to keep it.

Naser had spent most of his adult life working around thevery rich. Very few of them lived stress-free lives. Indeed, it seemed the moreyou had, the more you worried about losing it. And so, after he left Mason’shouse, ears ringing as if he’d been thrown headfirst into a post all over again,he returned to his condo the way he might after a long and stressful trip, asif the place were a warm and welcoming cocoon, and he’d been a fool to leave itfor so long.

His job had always been to break bad news to people, totether their dreams to cold, hard realities.

He had no trouble performing this service for himself.

He was home, and he was free. Free from worrying about hismother finding out about him and Mason. Free from the worry that Mason was soextraordinarily good looking, with an ocean of family money behind him, hemight throw Naser over for a better offer as soon as the taboo wildness oftheir reunion faded.

He was also free to pour himself a glass of wine.

He finished half of it before falling into bed. The rapidapproach of sleep seemed like another sign he’d done the right thing. Releaseda big—and beautiful—but terrible weight. With inevitable speed, the night’sevents had made clear there was no real future for him and MasonWorther. Chadwick would be just the first of many violentroadblocks. Mason’s abusive father, Naser was sure, would have been much worse.It was time for Naser to move on, grateful he’d been able to live out someextended version of a gay porn fantasy—closeted bully bangs gay boy. It washot, it was fun, it was over.

His sleep was dreamless and deep.

For two hours.

Then he woke in darkness and rose with some vague notion ofgoing to the bathroom. Instead, he opened the door to his closet, sank to thefloor inside and wrapped his arms around his knees, reverting to his old habitfor concealing the sound of his nocturnal tears, even though he now livedalone. This was the price he had to pay. He’d accepted Mason’s invitation andbeen dragged into some funhouse mirror version of their past, been forced torelive one of his worst moments without warning.

Hours later, he woke with a start and a terrible crick inhis neck from where he’d been resting his head against the closet wall.Sunlight poured through the slatted closet door.

He was scheduled to sit in on a lunch meeting that afternoonwith Connor and two representatives from a health and wellness company who’dflown in to discuss a possible branding partnership with Sapphire Cove’s soonto be renovated spa. Connor was putting them up at the hotel, and Naser’s jobwas to keep his ears open and see if anything sounded fishy about the numbersin their pitch.

He told himself not to, but he checked his phone.

Nothing from Mason.

Again, the first stab of pain was accompanied by a wash ofrelief.

But there was an email from his sister—she’d signed theinvestment agreement.

Fighting tears, he showered, dressed, and plotted a strategyfor keeping a professional demeanor all day. Deep breaths. Mantras. And, whenabsolutely necessary, remembering the anger in Mason’s eyeswhen he’d said the wordPrancer.

Twice as he drove to the resort, he was tempted to pull overand catch his breath.

As soon as he reached the hotel, he made a beeline for hisoffice and closed the door.

Jonas called out to him, but Naser seemed to hear the man’svoice on a delay.

He was leaning against the front of his desk, fightingtears, when he heard Jonas enter the office behind him. “Everything all right?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, why don’t we have a seat in my office and—”

Naser spun. The sight of whatever wild expression was onNaser’s face set Jonas back a step. “Why don’t you tell me the name ofonecorporationyou worked at between college and the Four Seasons in DC?”

Jonas flinched and took a step back. “Naser…”

“Just one. That’s all. I’ll wait.”

“Okay, clearly, I’ve done something—”

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