Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (36 page)

Grant was standing in front of Perry, his whole designer-suited body radiating anger. Mas couldn’t hear what he was saying over the music and conversation around him, but he could just imagine the tone Grant would be using. He’d heard him chewing into unfortunate employees who’d had the nerve to call him during their dinner dates. Grant was a scary man when he was pissed off, and right now he was intimidating the person probably least able to cope with it.

Fucknuts.

Mas pushed his way through the last few groups of people, muttering, “Sorry” as he went. Finally he fetched up next to the two men.

“Mas, do you know this gentleman?” Perry asked, his voice kind of quaky.

“Unfortunately, yes. Grant.” Mas tipped his head in greeting. “Can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you, obviously.”

Grant smiled, but it wasn’t remotely convincing. Not when he was pale with anger. “Mas. I was just telling your new
lover
about our arrangement. Now even though you’ve gone and proved yourself a dirty little slapper with no morals, I’m sure we can work something out that suits everyone. Perhaps we can operate a timeshare system in your cute little arse.”

Grant grabbed Mas’s bum and leered, giving Mas a faceful of alcohol fumes. Smelled like someone had been knocking back the strong stuff all afternoon. Christ on a bloody motorbike, no wonder he was acting like this.

Perry looked like he was about to chuck—he’d gone so pale he was almost see-through—and since it didn’t seem like he was about to intervene, Mas gently but firmly removed Grant’s hand. “I might be a slapper, but I’ve got taste, and Perry way outclasses you. Now get lost before I have you thrown out.”

“Oh yeah, and which of you queens is going to manage that, eh?” Grant began shrugging his jacket off. “I could take the both of you on single-handed, you know that?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re hardly the fighting type.”

“Overpowered you plenty of times in bed, though, didn’t I? Don’t know what you see in this streak of piss.” Grant’s jacket dropped to the floor as he flung a hand in Perry’s general direction. “Doesn’t look like he can give a little tart like you the kind of treatment you crave.” Grant grabbed hold of Mas’s chin, and all of sudden Mas was assaulted by a memory of Grant’s possessive kisses. Shit. He wasn’t about to kiss him now, was he? Mas swivelled his eyes wildly. If Perry was too disgusted with him to help, was there anyone else who could? Some of the nearest people were openly staring, but it didn’t look like anyone was going to step in and rescue him.

But then Perry loomed over them. “Let go of him,” Perry grabbed hold of Grant’s arm, and the grip on Mas’s chin loosened. “I’m warning you, you’d better get out of here or else.”

“Or else what? You’ve already taken Mas from me. What more have I got to lose?”

“Your wife and family, perhaps?” For a brief second, Mas thought Perry was threatening to take them out gangland style, but then sanity gave him a clip round the ear.

“Yeah. It wouldn’t be that hard to get in contact with them,” Mas said. “You wouldn’t want them to find out about your double life, would you?”

Grant snorted derisively. “Take your best shot. She’s never going to believe a common little tramp like you.”

Perry’s expression grew even more dangerous, and he lifted his barely touched glass of bubbly from the counter. He looked into it, as if seeking the answer to something there, then all of sudden flung the contents into Grant’s face.

“Don’t you dare speak to Mas like that!”

Layna’s singing came to a sudden stop. Someone started clapping, hesitantly, and then others joined in. They were clapping for Perry, Mas realised, when he looked round. Seemed like the whole party had come to a halt to rubberneck.

Grant stood there, dripping and blinking, his mouth opening and closing. “I can’t believe you did that. Throwing your drink? That’s so fucking girly. What are you going to do next? Slap me?”

Perry shrugged. “I’m no fighter, and it was all I had to hand. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the least you deserve for treating Mas like he’s a piece of meat.”

Mas sidled next to Perry and flung an arm over his shoulder. “Yep. And besides, I’m Perry’s piece of meat now, so don’t you forget it. There’s no going back, Grant. No second chances. Not from me.”

“Mas, please, I’m sorry,” Grant began, and amazingly enough, his voice cracked. What with the way his eyes were shining, Mas could almost believe Grant was showing genuine emotion. Shame he didn’t care anymore, really. Too little, too late.

Grant tried again. “I can’t lose you. I never told you what you… I mean, the way I feel—”

“This piece of shit giving you trouble?” A deep voice interrupted. Mas peered round Perry to see two big bald blokes standing side by side, one white, one black. They looked like the publicity shot of some gangster film. One he recognised as the punky customer Perry didn’t much like—Dare, that was his name—and the other was Cherise’s new man.

Grant wiped his face down with his hand, then bent to pick up his jacket. “It’s all right. I’m leaving. I know when I’m not wanted. Bunch of pretentious,
Guardian
-reading weirdos.”

“That’s quite enough from you.” Dare grabbed hold of Grant’s arm and twisted it up behind his back. “Come on, you’ve caused enough trouble for one night. Let’s get you outside and sobered up.”

Everyone watched as Dare led a sheepish and stumbling Grant out of the room.

Mas jumped up onto the countertop and spoke in a loud voice. “Sorry about that little interlude, ladies and gentlemen. More drinks will be circulating in a moment, and if you stick around, we’ll have a few words from Perry Cavendish-Fiennes in about ten minutes. But in the meantime, some more from the beautiful Layna Pearl.” He winked at Layna, who looked a little nonplussed but took hold of her microphone again. Mas slithered down again and got up close to Perry.

As Layna’s voice filled the room and people began to turn away, Mas looked up at Perry through his eyelashes. He had it on good authority that made him practically irresistible. “I’m really sorry about Grant being an arsehole to you. Are you pissed off with me?”

Perry folded his arms. “I’m pissed off, not so much at you as at him. But one thing I don’t understand. What did you ever see in the smarmy, cheating bastard?”

“Honestly, he’s not all that bad. I think you’ve seen him at his absolute worse. Most of the time he’s decent enough. Fairly charming, even.”

Okay, so Perry didn’t look like he believed a word of it, but Mas wasn’t exaggerating, not really. They’d had some good times, and it had been sad to see Grant lose it like that.

“Is there anything else I should know about your past?” Perry asked. “No more skeletons going to come jumping out of closets at me?”

“Babe, I’ve told you, I’ve never been in the closet.”

Perry still had his jaw set and his arms folded. Bugger. “Okay, okay. Look, I’ve slept with a lot of guys. Loads and loads of one-night stands, and some of them might well be bigger arseholes than Grant. But I’ve always played it safe, and you don’t have to worry about me cheating on you. I don’t do that.”

“Is that everything?”

“Everything. Cross my heart and hope to— Oh shit.” Mas caught sight of a horribly familiar bald crown heading in their direction. Fucking Walter! This was the problem when you advertised a party and didn’t have a strictly enforced guest list. All kinds of unwanted people from your past could show up. “Perry, whatever this tosser says, just ignore it. It wasn’t like that, okay?”

“What is it now?” Perry scowled, but when Walter pushed his way through to the counter, his scowl collapsed into something more like fear. “Hello. Can I help you?”

“Yeah, you the owner?”

“That’s right.”

Mas did his best to scare Walter off with a death glare, but it didn’t have the desired effect. Walter just looked down his nose at him and gave the smuggest smile ever. Bastard!

Walter folded his arms so his biceps bulged even more than usual. “You ever get a reference for Mr. Maslin? I’m guessing not, if you employed the little sod. I could tell you a thing or two about what he used to get up to on the job, the filthy whore.”

“Piss off, Walter. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Walter’s nostrils flared. “What about that bag full of perfume you nicked on your last day? Half a bloody grand’s worth you had stashed away in there, you know that?”

“I didn’t nick it. It never even left the premises.” Mas shot a worried glance at Perry. Shit. He was doing that deathly pallor thing that made all his freckles stand out. “Perry, it really wasn’t like that. Honest.”

“Only because I was one step ahead of you all the time. Yeah, you thought you were some hot shit, didn’t you, getting jiggy with that poncy blond from Cosmetics every time you thought no one was looking. I see he’s moonlighting here too.” To Mas’s horror, Walter pointed to a nearby group, where Bernarde was clearly visible, holding his tray of drinks and batting his eyelashes at a distinguished-looking older man. Walter addressed Perry. “You better watch these two. They’ll be shagging in the stockroom the moment you turn your back on ’em.”

Perry’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he found the words. “Bernarde? You had a thing with Bernarde?”

Walter snorted. “Wouldn’t have been surprised if he had a thing with every male member of staff there. Dirty little slut even offered to blow me one time.”

“That’s bullshit!” Mas cast back through his memory. He’d never have suggested that… Oh wait. There was that one time, but it had been sarcastic. “You do realise I was joking? Surely even a meathead like you can pick up on rudimentary sarcasm, or do I need a set of emoticon flashcards so you know whether to take me seriously or not?”

“Yeah, yeah. Come off it. We all know you’re gagging for a piece of the Waltmeister, but you’re out of luck. I don’t swing that way.”

Mas’s stomach churned. “I think I’m going to be sick.” But one look at the disgust on Perry’s face, and the cheese footballs Mas had snacked on earlier turned to a lump of lead inside him. “Perry, you have to listen to me. It isn’t like he’s making out. I can explain.”

“Can you?” The ice in Perry’s tone was undercut with quiet desperation. Could Mas convince him, or had he hurt him too badly?

“You want me to show you the security footage?” Walter offered. “Got it all copied on my phone. There’s the theft, assault and all his warehouse shenanigans with blondie. You don’t just need to take my word for it. I’ve got evidence.”

“Is it true?” Perry asked, ignoring Walter and turning to Mas.

“It’s…kind of. But not like he’s making out. You have to believe me. Please, Perrykins.” Mas tried to take Perry’s hand, but Perry yanked it away.

“Don’t Perrykins me.”

“Are you two a couple as well? Oh, that’s just perfect. Then you’re going to want to see this.” Walter thrust his phone forward. “Here’s a video of him on his knees, sucking blondie.”

Perry glanced at the phone screen for a heart-stopping moment before pushing it away. “Thank you, but I think I’ve seen enough.”

“I’ve got plenty more where that came from. You should see the one where they’re both wanking over a magazine.”

Perry whirled around and got right in Walter’s face. “I said I’ve seen enough.” His tone was coldly commanding—enough to give anyone the fear—and Walter’s smugness wavered. “Now why don’t you take your phone full of filth and vacate my premises before I call the police? I don’t want you here, harassing my staff.”

“All right, all right. Chill out, mate. Just thought you should know this little prick isn’t all he makes out he is, that’s all. Anyway,” Walter looked between the two of them and the smirk returned, “reckon my work here is done.” He turned to leave, but not without turning to give a parting shot. “If I ever see either of you in Crowther’s, you’ll be in my office for a strip search before you know what’s happening.”

“Fucking pervert!” Mas shook with rage, but when he caught a few interested stares from nearby partygoers, he forced a smile onto his face. Maybe if he made light of it, he could soothe Perry as well. “You know this stupid vendetta is all coz of his repressed homosexuality and the fact he fancies the pants off me, right?”

“I know nothing of the sort. I only know what I saw on video.”

Shit.

Mas laid a hand on Perry’s arm. “Can we talk about this somewhere else? In private.”

Perry nodded, but his face was set like a fucking statue. A bloody miserable one at that. Mas led him back through the gentleman’s room to the stairs. He had to put everything right again before Perry’s big speech, which was now due in about eight minutes. Fucking hell, just why had he thought a launch party would be a good idea again?

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Perry followed Mas through the crowds, smiling, nodding and saying, “In a moment” to the people who tried to catch his attention, while inside he was fuming. Mas a thief! And that odious, creepy ex of his! To think that he’d had his paws all over Mas made him sick to his stomach. And Bernarde too? Was there anyone Mas hadn’t slept with? The very thought made him want to throw up.

Mas led him to the stairs, and Perry shut the door firmly behind them. They walked up to the first-floor landing for added privacy.

“So, care to explain yourself?” Perry asked.