Riding Tall (22 page)

“What?” Joe sounded about as surprised as Mackenzie.

“Yeah. She thinks I don’t do drugs because you don’t approve. She thinks you control me just like Nathan did.”

“Is this… are you going somewhere with this? Are you trying to make a point? Or just start a fight?”

“A fight? No, we wouldn’t have a fight. A fight would take too much energy. A fight would mean you noticed that I existed and cared about what I was doing or saying or thinking. No, we’re not going to have a fight.”

“What the fuck, Mackenzie? What are you mad about?”

“I tell you I’m going to be away for another week, and you tell me, ‘Sounds great, congratulations’? Seriously? That’s how much you care?”

“What? Something good happened for you, so I’m happy. And you think that means I don’t care. You’re not making any sense, and I’m not going to be an asshole just to prove some point to you. I’m not Nathan, Mackenzie. I’m not playing that game.”

“You can be an asshole in more ways than one. Yeah, he tried to control me. But he didn’t
ignore
me.”

“Are you hearing yourself? This is the conversation you want us to be having?”

Jesus. No. This wasn’t what Mackenzie wanted. He wanted Joe, warm and relaxed and happy. But apparently he couldn’t have that, so he’d decided to settle for any attention he could get, even if he turned himself into a harpy in order to get it. “No,” he admitted. “This isn’t the conversation I want us to be having. I want us to be talking about pleasant things and exciting plans. I want us to be joking and laughing and acting like we’re in love. That’s what I want, Joe.”

There was a long pause. “Yeah,” Joe finally said. “That’d be nice.” Another pause, then he said, “I’m at the school, and I’m already running a little late. I need to go in and get this sorted out. But I’ll call you tonight, okay? After the kids are asleep.”

“After the kids are asleep,
you’ll
want to be asleep.”

“No, I’ll want to be talking to you.”

“And you’ll yawn, and I’ll feel guilty for keeping you up. Damn, this guilt thing is contagious.”

Joe took a long time to reply, and when he did, he sounded even more tired than he had when the conversation started. “Do you want me to not call? I don’t….” Yet another pause. “Are you trying to break up with me? Trying to push me to break up with you? Is that what this is about?”

No!
Mackenzie’s mind screamed at him. It was impossible, unimaginable. Living without Joe? Walking away from him now? It couldn’t happen. Mackenzie would have to be crazy to even consider it. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “
Something
has to change.”

“Well, maybe you could get back to me when you have something a little more definite,” Joe said. He didn’t sound hurt, exactly. It almost like he was satisfied his predictions had finally come true. “I need to go. You can call me tonight if that’s what you want, or not call me if you don’t want. Whatever. But it’d be nice if you didn’t leave me hanging for too long.”

And that was it. Joe ended the call, and Mackenzie stared at the handset. Joe was accusing
Mackenzie
of leaving him hanging? After all the passive-aggressive, mind-controlling bullshit of the past weeks, Joe thought
Mackenzie
was dragging things out and not being decisive? It was truly mind-boggling.

“We’re ready for you, Mackenzie,” the photographer’s assistant said politely, and he tried to get his mind back on the job.

When the shoot was finally over, he stumbled outside into the cold evening air and let himself actually think about it. Was this the way things were going to end? Not with a bang, but a whimper?

Life without Joe. The problem was, Mackenzie felt like he was
already
living without him. Sure, he still
saw
Joe, but that was just tantalizing reminders of how things used to be. They weren’t
together
, not the way Mackenzie wanted them to be. So what was his choice, really? He had to decide whether it was better to be with Joe as he was or leave him entirely, giving up the hope that things might get better.

Hope. It was powerful, but it couldn’t conquer everything.

Mackenzie was still working through it all when he reached his destination and pushed the restaurant door open. It was a café, trendy but casual, and Mackenzie didn’t have to wait for a maître d’ to show him to the table. He just cast his gaze over the room, found his agent’s smiling face, and headed in the right direction.

“Hi, Carson,” he said, and they shook hands and settled into their seats.

“You’re eating light, right?” Carson asked. He’d clearly already looked at the menu. “They have a seared trout that would be good, or an herbed chicken breast.”

But apparently Mackenzie was feeling a bit contrary. “I was actually thinking in terms of red meat. Steak and potatoes, if they’ve got something along those lines.” He picked up his own menu and found what he was looking for. When the server came over for drink orders, Mackenzie asked for a beer.

Carson looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed. “Comfort food?” he asked gently.

Mackenzie decided to tackle it head-on. “This next shoot. A whole week. Is there any way to shorten that? Or get some time off before it starts?”

Carson looked surprised, then shook his head. “You’re hardly at the level where you can start making demands like that, dear. You’re doing well—developing a reputation for being professional and easy to work with. You lose that and you’re just one more overaged pretty boy.”

“No.” Mackenzie took a sip of his beer to cool his temper, and when he spoke again, his voice was more level. “I’m a hell of a lot more than a pretty boy, overaged or otherwise.”

Carson raised an eyebrow. “I meant professionally, dear. I’m sure you’re a young man with a great depth of character and many wonderful qualities, but that’s not what modeling is about. Modeling is about having the right look and the right attitude. And I’m wondering if your attitude is in quite the right place.”

It wasn’t really a threat, but Mackenzie heard a definite undertone in Carson’s voice. Mackenzie sighed. He’d been with his agent for years, and Carson had put up with a lot from him. “Things aren’t going too well at home,” he forced himself to admit. “My boyfriend… there’s a lot going on. This isn’t a great time for me to be away.”

“And with your
old
boyfriend, you couldn’t work too much because he didn’t like it.” Carson shook his head sadly. “When are you going to let your life be about
you
, Mackenzie? When are you going to make your decisions based on your own interests instead of someone else’s needs?”

Mackenzie frowned. “Wait. I’m not… I hope I’m
never
going to make my decisions that way. Not entirely. I mean, that’s just being selfish, isn’t it? Doing what’s right for me without taking anyone else into consideration?”

“I think you
need
to be a little selfish, dear. Everyone
else
is, so if you’re not, you’ll just get run over.”

“No,” Mackenzie objected again. “With Nathan, yeah, that sounds right. But not with Joe. He’s the complete opposite of selfish. I mean, if he was more selfish it would be
great
, because if he was doing what he wanted, he’d be spending more time with me.”

“Okay,” Carson said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Your boyfriend is wonderful. But maybe he’s just not a good fit. Maybe this isn’t the right time in his life, or your life, or whatever. Sometimes the universe doesn’t align. Sometimes things don’t work out.” Carson sipped his drink and looked at Mackenzie speculatively. When he spoke again, his voice was hard. “It’s time for you to shit or get off the pot, Mackenzie. I am moving heaven and earth, getting you jobs and opportunities that are honestly surprising even
me
, they’re so good. I am putting a lot of energy into building your career, but I can’t be the only one dedicated to your success. If you don’t want to make this work, you need to decide
now
, before I waste any more time on you.”

“When we started up again, you told me there wasn’t going to be a lot of work. That’s what I was expecting. A shoot here or there, enough to make some extra money so I could keep using my savings for the church. You told me
not
to expect a career.”

“I gave you the worst-case scenario,” Carson said defensively. “Things are working out better than that. You should be
thrilled
.” He sipped his drink again. It seemed to be some sort of mean potion, because his eyes narrowed before he said, “There are lots of fish in the sea, dear. The crowd you’re about to get in with? I’m talking New York, Milan, and Paris, not boring old Toronto. Those are the places you’ll be going, and you’ll be meeting rich, powerful, handsome men. Men you can build a life with, a life where you can
both
be selfish and still give each other what’s needed.” Carson shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sure your farmer is lovely, but he’s hardly irreplaceable.”

A replacement for Joe. Mackenzie tried to imagine it. Another man, just as good, but with a more compatible lifestyle. Someone as caring, gentle, strong, and funny. Someone who could turn Mackenzie on just by looking at him and who could follow through on the promise of the look. Someone brave, solid, generous. Someone with shoulders as wide as a doorway and an ass so tight it could crack walnuts.

No. Mackenzie wasn’t going to find another man like Joe. And a man
like
Joe wasn’t going to be enough anyway. Joe was the one Mackenzie loved. There was no point trying to replace him.

So maybe he wouldn’t be looking. Maybe he’d take some time for himself. There’d be travel, and he’d be working a lot. In his spare time he could take a course or start reading more. Go to galleries. He could go to the theater himself, damn it. He didn’t need Joe to buy him tickets.

Of course, he
wanted
to go with Joe. He wanted to see Joe in his shirt and tie, his shoulders so broad Mackenzie’d had to get the shirt custom tailored. He wanted to drive to the theater together and hold hands in the lobby, then find their seats and keep their hands tightly clasped. For all his masculinity, Joe wasn’t shy about showing affection, even in public. After the show, Mackenzie wanted to walk together, talking and laughing and sharing their favorite parts of the production. And Mackenzie wanted to go home with Joe, and undress him and climb into bed with him and let Joe make him feel perfect. There wasn’t enough theater in the world to make Mackenzie happy if he wasn’t with Joe.

And that was what it came down to, he realized. It didn’t matter if he was unhappy with Joe, because he’d be unhappy without him too. He was in too deep to get out now. If he could go back in time and arrange to have never met Joe or to have walked away the first time Joe had tried to break them up?

No. He still wouldn’t change anything. He wouldn’t give up the good just to avoid the bad.

He wouldn’t give up at all. The thought came to him in what he was pretty sure was generally referred to as a blinding attack of the obvious. He wouldn’t give up. That was all there was to it. Joe might be ready to quit, but he was just tired. Exhausted from the overwork, the stress, the guilt he insisted on carrying around with him. Joe wasn’t thinking straight, so Mackenzie needed to step in and help him out.

“I love him,” he said out loud. “I’m not going to replace him. And I think… I’m sorry, Carson, but I think I need to turn this job down. And future jobs too, probably. Anything I can’t do in a day or two at the most, I think, is too big. I might need to get back to you on that.”

Carson’s squint turned into a glare. “No, dear,” he said icily. “That’s not how it works. If you aren’t committed to your career, 100 percent, then I won’t be finding jobs for you. I’ll give them to someone else, someone who might actually use them as a way to build something bigger.”

“I guess that’s your call,” Mackenzie said. He felt as if a tight band around his chest had loosened. He was going to fight for his man. He was setting his own priorities, making his own decision. He’d slid over into the driver’s seat, behind the wheel, and he knew where he wanted to go.

Then he realized he had an overall plan, but no real idea of what steps he needed to take to make it happen. The band started tightening again. “I need to go,” he told Carson. “Thanks for the beer.”

He found his way to the sidewalk and started walking, then figured out what the first step needed to be and pulled out his phone. When Ally answered he said, “I need your help. Will and Sarah too. Lacey, I think. Probably some other people eventually, but I think that’s good for now. Can you meet me somewhere, away from the house? Tomorrow, if possible.”

“Are we doing a caper?” Ally asked. “I’ve always wanted to do a caper.”

“Not quite. I don’t think.” Mackenzie frowned. “Well, maybe a bit. I have no idea, really. I guess I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m in. I’ll bring Lacey. How about at Sarah’s place tomorrow after school? About three thirty? I can call Will and get him to be there.”

Mackenzie had been right to get Ally involved. The girl made things happen. “Sounds excellent. Thank you.”

He shoved the phone into his pocket and walked down the street with a light step. He was
doing
something. He had no idea
what
, exactly, but at least he wasn’t just sitting back and letting things happen.

“Look out, Joe Sutton,” Mackenzie said aloud, ignoring anyone who might be giving him strange looks. “I’m on your trail, hunting you down. You can run, but you can’t hide.”

That was probably a bit more aggressive than he really wanted, but he’d adjust as the situation demanded. For the time being, he was happy to have at least the start of a plan.

Chapter 17