Chapter 2

Damn.Mr. Dusty Harding Lawrence was hotter than the sun.

Dusty hadn't been this hot when they'd had their brief and awful affair two years ago, had he? Cameron remembered wild hair and a sarcastic smile. The "struggling actor that didn't want you to know he was struggling" look. It had been the arrogance and the confidence that had made him sexy. That same arrogance had eventually been the reason Cameron had broken it off too, though.

They hadn't said a word in the elevator, and they hadn't said a word yet in the car either. Dusty checked his phone a few times and otherwise looked nervous, smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants and fussing with the cuffs on his gorgeous jacket. That arrogance was nowhere to be found. Some of the confidence was there, but it was clearly offset by the weight of the big event.

"You look great. I love that jacket."

Dusty sighed and stared out the window, ignoring him.

"Listen. I have a job to do tonight, and it's not going to be easy to convince anyone we're a couple if you won't even look at me."

"I'm an actor, Cam. I will act the part when I'm on stage, don't you worry."

He snorted. "I'm not worried. I saw the movie; you were really good. I'm not surprised at all that you're here."

Dusty's head turned slowly, bright-blue eyes under flawless smokey shadow looking squarely at him. Dusty might fake this whole evening, but Cameron was going to enjoy having a man this beautiful on his arm.

"You're not?"

The first two words Dusty had spoken to him in two years were more genuine and honest than the thousands they'd said to each other when they'd been dating.

"Not at all. You totally deserve it. Good luck."

Dusty blinked at him a couple of times before turning away. "Thank you."

"We're in line, sir. I'd say you have two or three minutes."

Dusty thanked the driver, then took a deep, deep breath and exhaled heavily. "Wow."

"You've got this."

Dusty glanced at him again. "Why are you being so nice?"

"You'd rather I be a dick?"

"Well, at least I'd know that guy. This one is confusing me."

Jesus. They'd been doing just fine. "You're going to pick a fight right now?"

Dusty turned and pointed a finger at him like Ann had. "Seen but not heard."

He didn't get a chance to answer.

"We're here, sir."

Men in long coats and white gloves opened the limo doors for them, and they got out. He nodded his thanks as the applause started, and slowly moved around the back of the car, rebuttoning his tux jacket.

"Ready?"

Dusty stood on the sidewalk, staring at everyone, and didn't answer, so Cameron jumped in to cover, smoothing Dusty's jacket and dusting off the shoulders. "Breathe."

"Fuck. Right."

"Walk."

"Shit."

"Got you. Smile a little." He offered his arm and Dusty took it, holding on so tight he thought his fingers might go numb.

"Dusty! Over here!" The tabloid reporters shouted to get Dusty's attention, but Dusty kept his eyes trained forward. He led Dusty through the media crowd and up the few carpet-lined steps to the building, trying to appear handsome and humble. Those were his instructions. Be handsome and humble, and don't speak to anyone.

A tall order with the one and only Dusty Harding on his arm.

"Dusty, who's your date?"

He didn't look, didn't respond, and neither did Dusty. Good for them. They'd passed test number one.

The entry doors were held open by two more long-coated men in doorman hats—they probably had some fancy name, those hats, but he had no idea—and they stepped into the lobby of the grand theater, an enormous room that was made for this kind of event. It was shiny and gold with rich drapes and a complicated patterned floor and had a long, wide staircase at the far end.

"Mr. Harding, this way, please. Photographs first, then interviews."

"Thank you," Dusty replied, sounding as if he'd found some oxygen finally. "Interviews. Ugh."

"Well, you had to know that was coming."

Dusty rolled his eyes and followed the PA toward the storm of flashing cameras.

Rebecca Borga was in front of the step-and-repeat banner, turning her head and shifting her feet from pose to pose in a gorgeous and classic silver gown that fit her just right. "God, she wears that well. I can't believe I'm standing ten feet from Rebecca?—"

"Do I look okay? Is my tie straight? My collar?" Dusty stood before him, worried.

Shit. Right. He was working, and Dusty was his focus. "You are stunning." It was true, but he fussed with Dusty's tie all the same, just to make Dusty feel as though he were being helpful. "Perfect."

"Mr. Harding."

"Yes, coming." And Dusty was off.

Cameron had been doing this escort thing for a while now, and he'd had plenty of wealthy clients, but he still couldn't believe he was being paid for this.

And he couldn't believe he was here with Dusty, either. Or anywhere with Dusty. They hadn't started well, and they definitely hadn't finished well, but this party was going to be a fucking blast.

He watched the photo shoot from the sidelines as Dusty tried both hands in his pockets, one hand in a pocket and one out, right side, left side, big smile, smoldering smile with no teeth showing.

Holy hell, he liked that one.

"And your date? What's his name?"

"Sir, if you'd please…" The PA put a hand on his back, trying to usher him in front of the step and repeat.

"Oh. No, I-I'm not," he tried to protest, but the PA gave him a solid shove.

"We have to keep things moving, sir."

He stumbled a step, and it was too late—he was in the shot. He straightened up and walked toward Dusty with a soft smile, but his eyes were all apologies.

Dusty's eyes were all murder.

"What's your name?"

"Cameron," he blurted out. Oh, fuck.

"How did you meet?"

"How long have you been dating?"

"Is it love?"

"Why is it a secret?"

Why is it a secret? Good fucking God.

The questions came hard and fast as the cameras clicked away, but Cameron kept quiet and did his best to keep the spotlight where it belonged, on Dusty. Dusty never answered a single one, of course—didn't even acknowledge that he was being asked questions at all.

Finally, Dusty gave a wave and he took his cue, offering Dusty his arm as they strode off the staging area, headed for the rest of the red-carpet walk.

"Seen but hot heard. Seen but not heard! What is so fucking hard about that? That was my moment." Dusty's voice was a stage whisper but every bit as angry as if he were shouting.

"I know," he whispered back. He was sorry, he honestly was. "I didn't?—"

"You had to make it about you, didn't you? You had to step in there and get your fucking picture taken. Now everyone's going to be curious, asking about you…you, you, you."

"About me? What?"

"You're in the spotlight now, aren't you? You wanted to be a celebrity? Nice work. That's going to be all over the Internet tomorrow, you know. Who is this Cameron? Why didn't we know about Cameron? I knew this was a bad idea."

He blinked at Dusty. "Ah, there's the man I remember." The self-centered diva he'd very loudly and angrily broken up with had finally made an appearance. "Thanks for reminding me that you're an asshole."

Dusty rolled his eyes so hard they almost popped out of the man's head. "I hope the paparazzi stalk you until the day you die."

"Wow."

Dusty took a breath and painted on a smile. A reporter was headed in their direction. "Not another word."

"Dusty, hello. Ready?"

"Sure, go ahead, Linda."

He reminded himself that he was being paid. This was a job. He didn't have to like people, have fun, any of that.

But he'd be lying if he said he hadn't hoped Dusty had changed.

"Great." Linda, whoever she was, nodded to her cameraman, and a glaring light shone in their faces as she held the mic up to her lips. "This is so exciting. I'm here with the handsome Dusty Harding, who's been nominated tonight for the Best Actor award for his role as Archie in Until It's Over. Hey, Dusty."

"Hi, Linda."

"This is your first Ghost Light nomination. How does it feel?"

Dusty's humility was back and he shrugged. "Honestly? I can't believe I'm here. Even getting my makeup done tonight I was thinking, is this really happening to me? I know I found out about this weeks ago, but I am still in shock. And I'm kind of overwhelmed by all of this." Dusty waved his hand to show he meant the whole circus.

So, was any of that nervousness real? Was that hole he'd seen in Dusty's confidence just an act?

"Well, you look like you're holding your own to me."

"Thank you. But I am an actor, after all."

I'll say.

That got a light chuckle out of Linda. "So, tell me about this look. You're hot in that jacket, Dusty, I must say. A modern twist on a classic look. I'm loving it."

Dusty straightened the jacket, showing it off. "Thanks, Linda. I'm a little in love myself."

"With this guy?"

He'd been standing quietly on the sidelines again, until that moment.

"This—oh." Dusty laughed uncomfortably.

Linda raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh. Well, this is—Cameron."

Shit, he almost felt bad this time. What was he supposed to do?

"Cameron! Do you mind? Come join us."

He smiled sheepishly, moved to Dusty's side, and took his hand. Dusty squeezed it hard, threatening to break his fingers.

"Nice to meet you, Cameron."

He nodded. Seen but not heard.

"So it's love?" She was asking him.

"Uh." Shit. Fuck. Damn. His mind raced but he finally hit on something. "Well, who isn't in love with this guy, you know?"

"Oh, my God, you're adorable."

That made him blush.

"Oh, I'm being told we're out of time, but thank you, Dusty, and good luck tonight."

"Thanks, Linda."

The camera light shut off abruptly and people started milling again, moving to the next interview.

"Commercial break. I think you're headed to Shane next. Great to meet you. My God, you're so hot together. Brittany? Are you ready?" Linda gave them a smile and moved on.

"Shane works for Celebrity Magazine. It's a rag, and they have a TV show."

"I know it." It published everything, no matter how personal. Or how truthful. And the show was all gossip.

"You didn't keep your mouth shut."

He raised an eyebrow. "I couldn't, she asked me a direct question."

"I know. And I guess you didn't do too badly."

"Come on, that was brilliant." Noncommittal, witty. "What would you have said?"

"Maybe stand farther away this time."

"Dusty! Oh my God, Dusty Harding. I know I'm not supposed to fangirl on the red carpet—we're professionals and all, but I just loved your performance."

"Thank you, Shane." Dusty took two long strides away from him and toward the reporter.

"Is that your plus one? Come on, come on, people love a love interest."

"No, he?—"

"No, I?—"

"Come on." Shane ordered as if he were a naughty teenager, and he was so flustered he stepped right up. "Good, closer." Shane positioned them just so. He could feel the tension in Dusty's stance, and it wasn't the hot kind. Shane turned to his cameraman. "Let's go, it's time."

The lights came on, blinding him again.

* * *

"Hey, it's Shane Star, and I've got the one and only Dusty Harding here with me. Hey, Dusty."

"Hey, Shane." Dusty gave Shane a flirty smile. Shane and his big TV magazine show had a ton of viewers, and not everyone on the carpet tonight was going to get an interview with him, so Dusty was going to play nice.

"Guys, I know you all have seen Until It's Over, and the heart-wrenching love affair between Archie and George. Dusty, you were so real. Where did you get your inspiration for this role?"

"Oh, my goodness. Well, I drew mostly from my own experiences. I mean, who hasn't had their heart broken, you know? And I've certainly been in love before. These are real-life emotions, so it's not too difficult to tap into some real feelings."

"Jack's performance was also stunning. I'm talking about Jack Loom, of course. He had to be great to play off of."

"Oh, yeah. Jack absolutely should be standing here with me."

"Well, he's nominated for Best Supporting, of course."

Yeah, Dusty found that a little confusing, but Jack was thrilled, and it was well-deserved.

"And the movie is up for Best Picture," Shane added.

He nodded, glad to be off the subject of Jack. He never knew what to say that didn't make him sound disingenuous. He really was happy for Jack. He would have been happy to share the category, or for their positions to be reversed, too. He was stunned to be here at all. "I couldn't be more proud."

"Are you nervous? Did you prepare a speech?"

"I don't have a speech. I'm so honored to be in the company I'm in. I'm just…flying right now."

"Adrenaline."

"Yeah, that, and just the energy here and the spectacle. I'm kind of a fanboy too, so this is wild."

"I love your humility. And who is your handsome date? We haven't been introduced yet."

It was work but he managed not to roll his eyes. "Oh. This is Cameron."

"Cameron…"

"Just Cameron."

Shane looked a little uncomfortable for a moment, but he didn't care. This thing with Cameron had been a charade from the beginning, and he wasn't happy about it.

"Good to meet you." Cameron stuck his hand out and Shane smiled and shook it.

"We didn't know Dusty was bringing a date this evening, what a treat. How long have you been together?" Oh, God. Shane was talking to Cam now. He tried not to panic.

"Just a short while."

"And did you see the film? What did you think of Dusty's performance?"

"Oh. I saw it, yes." Cameron shook his head as though he wasn't sure what to say. "He was breathtaking. I even had tears a couple of times and had to break out the Kleenex. I mean, he's right—we've all been there, and I totally felt that."

"How sweet are you? Oh, you're a charmer. Dusty, how great to have someone so supportive at your side on this big night. Lucky you."

He deflected that one. Hard. "I'm fortunate to have a lot of supportive people around me."

Shane blinked at him. "Okay. Well, it was great talking with both of you. Dusty. Good luck tonight. Whatever happens, at least you're taking this trophy home with you, right?" Shane laughed.

"Thank you, Shane." He grinned indulgently until the camera shut off.

"Don't worry. Nerves are normal, you did great." Shane squeezed his shoulder. "Really."

Well, that was kind of Shane to say, even if he was annoying. "Thanks. Where to next?"

"I bet Holly grabs you next. Holly Gross from that daily morning show." A network morning show. National morning news. Wow. "She's going to want to know about what you're wearing."

He chuckled because he'd basically told Ann to find him a great jacket and he'd pull the rest from his closet, and Ann had told him he'd lost his mind. You'regoing all-designer, from the top of your pointy head all the way to your toes. They'd compromised by going with someone young and new. Give a hand up and all that.

"Mr. Harding? Ms. Gross sent me to?—"

"He's coming, darling." Shane waved him off.

Cameron offered an arm, but he ignored it and stepped ahead of his ex-the-escort and followed the young PA.

"Dusty, it's so good to meet you."

"You too, Holly." Meeting all these new people, all the cameras, the other nominees and interviews going all around him—it was overwhelming but in a good way. He liked the circus aspect of it all, the noise and the lights.

"So, my team and I are hoping you'll come to New York and sit down with us this week if you win."

"Of course." Was he going to say no? Did anyone ever say no? "I'm sure the studio will arrange all of that."

"Oh, they will. My notes didn't say you were married or dating, so please forgive me, but could you?—"

"This is Cameron. Clark."

Holly shook Cameron's hand, then was handed a microphone.

Cameron kept his mouth shut.

"That time? Okay, gentlemen, are we ready? You both look great, by the way."

He knew a rolling camera when he saw one, and he smiled at Holly as she brought the mic to her lips. "Dusty Harding and his fabulous date, Cameron Clark, are here with me. I was just telling them how incredibly handsome they are together."

Together? No, she'd said they looked great. Dusty hadn't said they were together. Why did people assume things? Just because he'd brought a total unknown man to a major acting award show?—

Well, okay. Fine.

"Dusty, who are you wearing? My cheat sheet is completely useless to me tonight."

"Kylie Kitty. She's amazing. Isn't this jacket gorgeous?"

Holly laughed. "Kitty…a young designer. I haven't seen her on the carpet before. You had a good tailor, it fits you like a glove."

"Yes. That we did—it needed some altering, I'm kind of skinny."

"Nonsense. I love the line of it. And you, Cameron? Is your tux designer?"

"Uh. Probably? I borrowed it."

"Ah! Ladies, this right here, this is everything that's wrong with fashion. These two men can look great and get away with borrowing and the assistance of a good tailor, but we women have to find a statement dress and starve ourselves for two weeks to make sure it still fits like it should on the day of the event. I'm jealous, gentlemen."

"Who are you wearing?" Cameron asked, interrupting.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your dress, who are you wearing? It's gorgeous."

"Oh, me?" Holly was clearly surprised but pleased. "Mine's Chanel, and I love it."

"It's beautiful on you. The color and everything. Nice choice."

"Well, my goodness." Holly waved her hand in front of her face, fanning herself. "Such a charmer. He's a keeper, Dusty. I look forward to talking to you more soon."

All he could do was smile again. What was he supposed to say? Anything he said would haunt him on social media for the rest of his career.

"Oh my, we're at time. Well, that was fast. Dusty, good luck tonight."

He thanked Holly and let her hurry to her next segment.

"Really?" he whispered to Cameron as they walked away.

"What? I was just being polite."

"What happened to being handsome and quiet?" Cam was handsome, but the seen-and-not-heard thing wasn't going so well.

"I can't help if they ask me questions, Dusty."

"You know you're on TV, right? Like, people are watching you?"

"Well, yeah. I don't have anything to hide."

"No? You're an escort, Cam."

Cameron pulled him closer. "Trust me, that's all confidential. And don't let anyone hear you say that; it's a violation of the agreement."

"There's an agreement?"

"Dusty, what I do is very high-profile and confidential. You'll never hear about my other clients, you'll never know who they are, and they won't ever say a word either."

"Are there people here—like actors or, anybody that?—"

Cam didn't even flinch. "I would never tell you that."

"Oh, my God. There are, aren't there?"

That got him a chuckle. "Are you done?"

"I'm going to be looking around the room wondering now."

"That would be a waste of your time and would ruin the most important evening of your life."

"How do you know it's the most important?"

"Because Ann hired me."

He stared at Cameron, trying to put those pieces together, if there were any. But naturally, he was called over for another interview.

He'd done four more interviews and a cast photo shoot by the time they were escorted to their seats. They all had dates—Jack's wife, Emily, was there and Lita's husband, Bruce. Joline and her spouse, Madison. Only Steve didn't have a plus one, but he'd just been through a bad breakup.

"We haven't met. I'm Lita."

"Oh. I know who you are, it's amazing to meet you. Wow. I'm Cameron." Cameron shook her hand, and Dusty watched him, pretty sure all the fanboy stuff was actually genuine. "You were amazing. You were totally fierce."

"Thank you." Lita blushed. "I'm not like that at all in real life."

Cameron looked shocked. "Then you're an even better actress."

"Don't listen to her, she's a straight shooter. Hi, I'm Jack."

"I am so—wow. Honored. Nice to meet you too."

The whole table introduced themselves as if they weren't people everyone knew from the big screen, and Cameron sat down again, wide-eyed and a little flushed.

"Don't you do this a lot?" Dusty whispered.

"Not actors, not much."

Huh. As annoyed as he was about it, this escort business thing was interesting.

"Cameron, what do you do?"

Oh, shit.Dusty's heart pounded. They hadn't discussed what they were going to say if someone asked—he wasn't going to say escort, right? That was?—

"I'm a personal chef," Cameron answered easily.

"Ooh, Dusty. He cooks!"

Right. This wasn't Cameron's first rodeo, was it? Of course he had a good cover story. "He does." He glanced at Cam, who nodded at him. Okay, he could sell that. "He's very creative."

"Is that how you met? Do you cook for this guy?" Steve asked, pointing at him.

"Just breakfast once in a while." Cameron winked at Steve, and the table cracked up.

Okay, that was good. That was funny. He slapped at Cam's shoulder, playing along. "Really, Cam?"

Cameron just grinned and leaned back in his chair, and whatever wall Dusty had put up that had been letting him forget how hot Cameron was crumbled in that instant. That smile, the knowing look in Cameron's eyes, it made him sweat a little. Dusty could feel the flush rise from his nuts to his neck, and he couldn't stop it from slowly creeping up into his cheeks.

Damn. For the five minutes he and Cameron had been good, they'd been very good. Their nights had been hotter than the Los Angeles sun, and he'd woken up to that knowing smirk morning after morning.

A server set a seltzer with lime down in front of him, and Jack's chuckle dragged him away from thoughts of Cam's tight abs covered in ribbons of his cum. So fucking pretty.

"Ann won't let me drink."

Jack nodded and raised his glass. "I'm not supposed to, either."

"Seltzer?"

"Gin."

He laughed. "Naughty."

"So, where have you been hiding Mr. Cameron? He seems like a nice guy."

Cameron was an ass, but he was also a nice guy when he wanted to be. It wasn't all an act. "It's very new, but Ann thought a date would be a good idea so, here he is."

"You didn't want to bring him?" Lita tilted her head curiously.

"Well, I wasn't sure."

"I think she's right. It's good to look human," Jack said with the conviction of someone that knew him too well.

"Ha. You're funny."

"Ha, nothing. You're a diva."

He pretended to be offended. "You heartless brute."

"Heartless? Maybe." Jack sipped his gin. "Let him dote on you a bit, I can tell he wants to."

He glanced over at Cameron. "Dote on me? Cameron?" He snorted.

"You know what I mean. Let him be a gentleman. He's plenty humble for this crowd, he's adorable."

"A little."

The lights flickered, a warning that the show would be starting soon. He turned around to scan the mezzanine to see if he could spot Ann, and he had no trouble finding her.

She was the one sitting front-row center, glittering in the houselights like a mirror ball.