Their Matchmaker Page 10

  Of all the bad habits Gavin learned in Hollywood, this was the one Aaron loathed most—the insistence it was wrong to turn away fans. Aaron glanced at Cyn, who stood to the side, lips pursed in a frown.

  More of the people watching pressed in, to get closer to Gavin, shoving Aaron and Cyn further back in the process.

  Aaron gripped Cyn’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

  Her weak smile vanished into blankness as quickly as it appeared. “I can stick around for five minutes. No worries.

  Half an hour later, the crowd around Gavin was bigger. “Hey, handsome.” He grinned at a guy who handed him a pen and a cocktail napkin. “Autograph in exchange for a sip of your drink?”

  The stranger was happy to comply. So were the next several people Gavin made the same offer to.

  Aaron clenched his fist and counted to ten. He hated to be a wet blanket, but Gavin drunk—off the wagon twice in as many months—was a bad thing. He was a sweet enough drunk, but it was the downward slide that tended to follow that made Aaron’s gut clench.

  He tried to push through the throng of people, to cut Gavin off.

  “I should go.” Cyn’s voice barely reached him.

  He glanced back, not blaming her. He gave her a tight smile and nodded, and she spun away.

  “Cynthia,” Gavin called over the chatter. “Where are you going?”

  Aaron didn’t know which bothered him more—the slur in Gavin’s question, or that he stopped her when he refused to listen to Aaron’s requests to go.

  Gavin reached past everyone and grabbed Cynthia’s wrist. He pulled her to stand next to him and draped an arm over her shoulder. Her scowl deepened.

  “This woman here”—he pointed to Cyn—“is a fucking genius. She’s the smartest, sexiest matchmaker in all of L.A.”

  Cyn’s smile was thin. She broke away and shoved through the crowd, ignoring Gavin’s calls for her to stop. Aaron followed her outside. Gavin could fend for himself, if he was going to be an asshole.

  “Cyn, please.” Aaron’s voice sounded unnaturally loud to his ringing ears.

  She paused. “It’s not your fault. Stay with your guy. I’ll call a cab.”

  Fuck. Cockblocked by his own boyfriend. It wasn’t the first concern Aaron should have, but it amused him in a twisted sort of way. He was tempted to take Cyn home. Not even to finish what they started, but because she didn’t deserve to be brushed aside this way. But as annoyed as he was with Gavin, he couldn’t abandon him. Not completely. “I’ll wait with you until your ride gets here. I can do that much,” Aaron said.

  “Where’re you going?” Gavin pushed between them. A wash of alcohol rushed over Aaron’s face, and he cringed.

  “Home.” Cyn’s voice was flat.

  Gavin frowned and stepped back. “You can’t. I’ll behave.” The slur faded from his words, but it didn’t vanish. “The fans are gone, and I’ll be good. I promise. We’ll go back to our place, away from everyone. I didn’t mean to spoil the night.”

  Aaron clenched his jaw until it ached. What the fuck was this?

  Cynthia glanced at him, and the creases in her forehead grew more pronounced. “No. I’m done.”

  Aaron didn’t know if he was more grateful or perturbed. Either way, he didn’t blame her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  GAVIN WOKE UP WITH his head pounding and the spot next to him in bed empty. He rubbed his temples at the assault of images from last night. The deluge of reminders. It had been years since he had a morning like this—where part of him wished black-out drunk was one of the cards in his deck of miserable results of fucking up an evening.

  A bottle of water sat on his nightstand. It drew an almost-smile. He downed half of it in a single gulp. God, he fucked up big time. While it was happening, it all seemed harmless. With the fans pressing in, he had to be polite, but that kind of friendliness was different than screen acting. He couldn’t become someone else and slide into a role. He had to be himself, but a better, kinder, more-sociable version.

  Gavin had seen Aaron’s irritation. Cynthia’s too. He didn’t blame them, but the insistence in his head wouldn’t let him break away. Never let the fans down. The first drink was to take the edge off. A sip of someone else’s booze wasn’t the same as drinking, right? By Number Ten or Twelve, he’d stopped caring. The alcohol worked better than he expected.

  His head spun with regret, but the room had stopped. Aaron’s half of the bed didn’t look slept in. Fuck. Gavin had some serious groveling to do.

  He found Aaron in their office. His computer was on, but he wasn’t doing anything.

  Gavin lingered in the doorway. Best to approach this contritely. “Thanks for the water.”

  Aaron started but didn’t turn. He grabbed the mouse and clicked, then scrolled through the page too fast to be registering anything. “Mhmm.”

  “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “Okay.”

  Gavin’s sour gut twisted in on itself until it was a pretzel. “Please don’t be mad?”

  Aaron’s shoulders rose and fell with his heavy sigh. He finally spun in his chair. “Seriously?”

  “If I’m going to make it better, I have to start somewhere.”

  “You start by not doing it in the first place. Like you promised you wouldn’t, two months ago. You know—the last time.”

  The edge in Aaron’s voice caught Gavin off guard. This wasn’t the way the conversation went. Not ever. Gavin apologized. Aaron understood and accepted.

  Gavin crossed the room and crouched in front of Aaron, to look him in the eye. He took Aaron’s hands. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I don’t have better words than that; the only thing I can do is prove to you I mean it.”

  “How?”

  “Give me time, and I’ll show you.” This was a good step. Gavin hid his smile. He could make things right. “Don’t give up on me yet. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make things right with Cynthia.”

  Aaron’s jaw tightened. “Cynthia’s a business associate. She’s a lot of fun, but you realize that part of the relationship is over, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.” Gavin’s grin was in defiance of the surge of disappointment gnawing at his insides. “I owe her an apology; that’s all. But I’m worried about you and me. I want—I need—us to be okay.”

  Aaron sighed. “We will be. But only if you can put this behind you. If you’re going to sign autographs, mingle with the fans—whatever—I don’t have a problem with it. But you have to walk away when it pushes your buttons, rather than grabbing the nearest drink.”

  “I know. You’re right.” Gavin would say whatever it took at this point. He was so close to getting that reconciliation. Besides, he’d spent years avoiding situations like that. He’d go back to being cautious.

  Aaron nodded at his computer. “You need to mean it. Really, truly mean it. Because I don’t think we can avoid situations like last night anymore. Someone leaked where we were at dinner and at the club. They had a bead on us all night.”

  Gavin registered what was on the screen, and he grabbed the mouse to scroll through more. Shots of the three of them at dinner. On the street. Dancing. Some were from a distance—grainy and hard to see. Others were entirely too clear and sharp for Gavin’s liking. At least there were none of what happened at the table, with Cynthia. That didn’t stop a combination of dread and fury from bubbling inside.

  He forced his apologetic but cheerful mask to stay in place. “I’m good. I’m sincere about it. I’ll show you.”

  “All right.” Aaron cupped his cheek and turned his face, then brushed a kiss across his lips. “I believe you. We’ll get through it together. I’m willing to try as long as you are.”

  “I promise.” A whisper in the back of Gavin’s head asked if he meant that, and he balled it up with the news that someone was following them when they went out, lit it with a mental match, and let it burn to ashes.

  CYNTHIA HAD BEEN WAITING for this moment for months, pounding
the pavement, making the pitch, begging and praying to whatever gods were listening to give her a chance to make this business take off. She only needed a little capital. Enough seed money to get the ball rolling.

  Now that she was moving forward, that opportunity hovering in front of her—available as long as the next steps went all right—discomfort chewed at her thoughts. If she didn’t have so much riding on this, she’d give into the impulse to not see Aaron or Gavin again.

  Everything hinged on it, though. So when Aaron approached her in the investment firm lobby, she smiled, shook his hand, and followed him into his office.

  He nodded at the seat across from his desk, and took his own when she sat.

  “How are you?” Cynthia wasn’t sure if her question held hidden meaning, or if she was simply being polite.

  Aaron’s smile was thin. “Great. Glad to be moving forward with this. I hope you’re prepared for several hours of intensive paperwork review.”

  Polite it was. She could do this—pretend the weekend never happened. After all, that was Cyn who hooked up with the guys for a little fun. Cynthia didn’t have flings with business associates. “Absolutely. In a twisted way, I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Fantastic. Let’s dive right in. Some of this may seem like a random order, but it helps me keep things straight in my head, so...” He trailed off with a frown.

  She waited a few seconds, not wanting to interrupt. When he didn’t continue, she prompted. “So...?”

  “Right.” He shook his head. “Stick with me, and it’ll all come together over the next few days and weeks. Some things take more time to process and verify. We cover those first, and then move on to the rest.”

  “I trust you.”

  The creases in Aaron’s forehead deepened. “Do you?”

  “Yes.” The answer slipped out without thought, but she didn’t see any reason not to. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yup. Never better.” His words fell flat.

  Was this about what happened at the club? Any of it? Was it about her in general? Was she just being paranoid? Though she was here to discuss business, she needed to clear the air. Maybe she was reading too much into something that wasn’t related to her at all, but she was going to be working closely with Aaron over the next several months, and after that he’d be a member of her board, so she might as well get her concerns out of the way now. “Stop me if I’m being presumptuous, but does your mood have anything to do with the other night?”

  “Yes. But not the way I suspect you think.”

  Now she was as curious as she was concerned. “May I pry?”

  “I should say no”—Aaron raked his fingers through his hair—“but I don’t want to brush you off. At the very least, I need to apologize for how the evening ended.”

  She’d been pissed that night. Gavin’s behavior made her uncomfortable on so many levels. He radiated a lack of control she didn’t like. Over the next day or two, she reconciled with it. “I appreciate it, but it’s done and over. All of it.” She might as well reinforce her perspective now. The thought of saying with finality, it was fun, but it’s done, made her joints ache, but there was no better time. “We all agreed we’d have some fun, it wouldn’t interfere with work, and we’d move on after.”

  “I appreciate that.” Aaron’s tone implied he didn’t, or she was reading too much into it. “I still... Never mind. You don’t need to hear about my personal life.”

  “Are you going to talk to someone about it?”

  “What?”

  “Whatever is going on, it’s obviously eating you. Can you tell Gavin?” That was a stupid question. Even if Aaron’s grimace didn’t make her regret it, asking was crossing a line.

  “No.”

  She recoiled at the force in his reply.

  “I didn’t mean to snap.” Ice slid in, to hide any other tone in Aaron’s voice.

  She composed herself. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t appropriate for me to ask. If we’re all right, we can get to work.”

  “Great idea.” He slid a paperclipped stack of printouts across the desk. “First, we can’t go much further without appropriate patents, copyrights, and trademarks on file. For the product and the company. If you have the information already, I need copies of the documents listed here. If not, now’s the time to file.”

  “I think I have all of it, but I’ll double check, and get you the final information. How did the two of you meet?” No. Wrong. Stupid. She meant to ask if there was anything specific she should pay attention to.

  “We were childhood sweethearts. Next step is—”

  “No shit. Childhood sweethearts?” Cynthia ducked her head when Aaron scowled. She wasn’t sure if his reaction was because of her question or interruption, but either way she shouldn’t have done it. “I’m sorry. I’m overstepping so many boundaries.”

  He scrubbed his face, and when he met her gaze again, some of the lines of tension had faded. “My boyfriend fingered you in a packed dance club, while my I watched. I don’t think we have a lot of boundaries anymore.”

  Heat—both from embarrassment and traces of the memory—scorched her skin. She pushed aside the reaction. “Is this where you tell me your deepest, darkest secrets?” she teased.

  “I don’t have these kinds of skeletons.” His laugh sounded natural. “But I will tell you the story about how Gavin and I met, if you’re actually interested.”

  “I am.”

  He let out a long breath. “I told you about the scams I used to help my dad run. When I was fourteen, the law caught up to us, and he was arrested. It wasn’t the first time, but technology had come far enough that his fake IDs and background didn’t hold up under scrutiny. The police traced his identification back to warrants in other states, and he was looking at spending months or years behind bars, instead of a weekend or two.”

  “I’m sorry. That sounds awful for you.” Cynthia had no idea what she expected as an opener in a story of young love that was still alive for Aaron and Gavin at thirty, but this wouldn’t have made the list.

  Aaron shrugged. “I don’t think of it as something bad or good. It just was. I didn’t want to go into foster care, so I hid from the system. I’d learned enough from Dad that it was easy to run cons myself. Everyone felt sorry for the poor kid, and on my own, that sympathy was even easier to game. But I wasn’t doing anything big time, or even midrange, like he had. My gigs were as much performance art as anything—card tricks, shell games... And movie lots were my best bet. Hollywood loves a show.”

  “Including Gavin?” As the story unfolded, it filled her with a combination of awe and horror for what Aaron must have gone through.

  “Everyone but Gavin.” Aaron’s chuckle was laced with melancholy. “First day we met, I was behind the lot he was shooting in, playing Find the Queen with a battered deck of cards. I had a standard crowd of people who watched. I was pretty sure some were there more out of pity than anything, but whatever kept me fed and off the streets was fine with me. Gavin called me on my bullshit. I loved it. The gorgeous, famous actor talking to me and recognizing what I was up to.” Aaron faltered. “From there, were became fast friends, and a few years down the line, more.”

  Cynthia had a feeling he was holding something back, but she’d already pried too much. “It sounds like an incredible journey from then to now.”

  “It was. It is.” Sadness tinged his voice.

  That almost made her ask for more, but she wasn’t going to indulge her curiosity at the risk of opening a can of worms that couldn’t be closed. “We should get back to work.”

  Aaron gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  AARON SLOGGED THROUGH the next several days, unsure where things stood at home, or even where he wanted them to be. Gavin was a saint, not reacting when Aaron came home in a foul mood or pulled away. Just being there.

  Still, Aaron felt like each day in the office was a chance to breathe. Working with Cynt
hia was a pleasant distraction, and diving into his other investments kept his mind as busy.

  He was pondering that, and failing to ignore a fresh wave of guilt, when he walked into the office Friday morning.

  “Jonathan is looking for you.” The receptionist’s statement pulled Aaron out of his head.

  He flashed her a smile. “Thanks.” He set his stuff next to his desk, strolled down the hall to his business partner’s door, and knocked on the frame.

  Jonathan looked up, and a whisper of a frown crossed his face before vanishing. “Hey. You have a few minutes?”

  “That’s why I’m here.” Aaron dropped into the seat across from him and crossed one ankle over the other knee. “What’s up?”

  “You read the news this morning?”

  Aaron shook his head. “Avoiding it right now. Makes it easier to start my day.”

  Jonathan let out a slow hiss. “Lucky me. A couple of the other partners wanted to ambush you with this, but not all of us thought that was the best approach, so consider this your heads-up.”

  “About...?” Aaron didn’t like the dread that clawed inside, threatening his tentative calm. He chose to ignore the handful of alerts about Gavin this morning. None had been critical this week, and Don was on top of things, so Aaron wanted to enjoy the peace for a few hours before he followed up.

  “Your name is smeared all over financial news.”

  “Wait. My name?”

  Jonathan scrubbed his face. “They’re calling you the Four Billion Dollar Fraud. Apparently there’s a source that can prove the deal you brokered a few years back—the company you built and sold—none of that was your doing.”

  I signed the paperwork. Aaron didn’t suspect that was the right answer. “I sold a tech startup for four billion dollars. Of course there were other people involved.” It was a weak response.

  The way Jonathan raised his brows said he agreed. “I’ll be more direct. The hype machine that inflated the company’s worth, the data, the perfect storm of product features... Was that you?”