Chapter 19

NINETEEN

Casper leftthe premiere after his moment with Sawyer with so many emotions racing through him that it left him numb. He didn’t know what to think, about Sawyer or anything. Gregory had more or less turned on a light in his mind that led him to see that the career room he’d assumed he was in was actually much bigger than he’d thought, and it had more choices. He was no longer certain that the thing he wanted more than anything else in life was to be a university professor.

The thing he wanted more than anything was Sawyer. He wanted to be there for Sawyer and to help him navigate celebrity life. He knew that with absolute certainty, to the point where he actually found himself debating the merits of not working at all, other than on the set for After the War and part time for The Brotherhood, and devoting his time to being Sawyer’s personal assistant as the limo they’d hired for the night took him back to the Chameleon Club.

But was that what he really wanted or was it a worry reaction to the way Sawyer had left him at Leicester Square? The fact that the limo had been waiting for him when Casper left the premiere, without bothering to watch the film, and that Sawyer hadn’t taken it to go wherever he’d gone off to spiked Casper’s worry to epic heights. The limo driver hadn’t seen Sawyer at all and was surprised he wasn’t with Casper.

What if he’d misread the situation again and Sawyer was trying to distance himself because of everything going on in the press? Casper bounced back and forth between deeper worry, anger that Sawyer would think so little of him, and guilt that he was jumping to conclusions without actually knowing what was happening.

He felt somewhat relieved when he sent Sawyer a text and received a reply in return that said everything was alright and Sawyer had gone home to talk to his mum. Casper didn’t know much about Geraldine Kingston past the one meeting, but he felt secure enough to go through his usual evening routine once he got back to the club and to climb into bed instead of pacing the floor, wringing his hands, and considering calling the police.

Not that he slept easily or restfully. There were too many question marks hovering over his life, too many unknowns. Were he and Sawyer endgame or was this just a bump in Sawyer’s meteoric rise to fame? Was Casper in a position to give up the things he wanted, to give up any chance of achieving things on his own, to play second-fiddle to Sawyer for the rest of his life?

The question that loomed even larger in Casper’s mind as he tossed and turned, checking the clock every twenty minutes until well after midnight, when Sawyer still hadn’t come home to him, was whether teaching at a small, independent school with a mission close to his heart was a better option than the university position he’d chased after for so long. And knowing that was the more important issue that faced him filled him with guilt and uncertainty about where he and Sawyer were headed.

He must have fallen asleep at some point. It felt like he hadn’t done anything more than blink and his morning alarm was going off. The first thing he did after reaching over to shut it off was to turn toward what had become Sawyer’s side of the bed.

It was empty. More than that, it had never been slept in. Casper went from drowsy and thick-headed to startlingly awake in seconds as he realized Sawyer had never come home the night before.

What if his original fear that Sawyer was breaking up with him was right after all?

Casper threw his bedcovers aside and leapt out of bed, heading for the en suite. He rushed through a shower, reminding himself to breathe and be steady, and not to jump to any conclusions before he had more information.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life. His suite felt emptier without Sawyer in it, and as he dressed and made his bed, his body felt wooden and tight with dread. He hadn’t been enough after all. All those questions fired from all sides by the reporters and film people the night before must have shown Sawyer that he could do better.

Or maybe it was the other way around and just Casper being in his life had pushed Sawyer beyond what he could endure. Memories of the night they’d had sex—and it had definitely counted as sex, no matter what standards Hollywood had put out in the world—rushed back to him. Had he asked for too much, pushed Sawyer too far? He’d sworn to himself and Sawyer that he would be respectful of Sawyer’s boundaries. What if, in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t done that?

“Stop it,” he growled to himself as he gathered up his things and headed downstairs to the dining room. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

There were explanations for everything. Any good Historian knew that. Facts could be interpreted in a dozen different ways, but that didn’t mean every possible explanation was the right one. Sawyer hadn’t actually given him any indication things were over between them, and he wasn’t going to help the situation by making up stories in his head.

“Did you have a good time at the premiere last night?” Bernard asked Casper once Casper reached the table where the staff who worked at the Chameleon Club usually sat together in the morning.

Casper huffed a humorless laugh before slipping his messenger bag over the back of his chair. “It was an education, I can say that much.”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” Bernard said as Casper turned toward the buffet table to fetch breakfast. “Sawyer didn’t look particularly happy when he got back last night, or when he rushed out this morning.”

Casper froze and pivoted back to Bernard. “Sawyer came back last night?”

Bernard looked faintly sheepish, like he was telling tales out of school. “Very late. I was just finishing up my shift. He asked for the spare key to his room, since he said he’d left his in your suite and he didn’t want to wake you up. I crossed his path again this morning, about an hour ago, as he left for an interview on one of those morning chat shows.”

Casper’s body went weak, but he couldn’t tell if it was with relief or deeper dread. It was both. Sawyer had made it home last night, but he hadn’t turned to Casper for help or comfort. Was it really because he didn’t want to disturb him or was it the beginning of the end?

There was no answer to that question. Casper brought his breakfast to the table and sat next to Bernard. He didn’t have much of an appetite, and he could hardly listen as Bernard ran through the daily gossip list. Since Bernard was the Keeper of Rooms, he always had delicious gossip about what was going on in The Brotherhood. Casper was usually interested in it, but his mind was a blur of overstimulation and worry.

The only thing that cut through that blur was when he happened to hear Sawyer’s name coming from one of the large televisions set in the wall near his table.

“Up next, we have Sawyer Kingston, breakout star of Start at the Beginning with us,” the pretty hostess of the morning show said.

The camera cut to a shot of Sawyer sitting on a brightly colored sofa with a large window showing the Thames in the background behind him. Sawyer waved to the camera as the male host said, “Sawyer is just coming off what many are saying is an award-winning performance in Start at the Beginning, and he’s also going to talk to us about his next project, a period piece called After the War. Stay tuned.”

The way the station cut to a commercial just then was downright cruel, as far as Casper was concerned.

“That’s the show you’re working on too, isn’t it?” Bernard asked as another member of the club turned the volume up on the television.

“Yes, it is,” Casper said. “In fact, I need to head over to the studio soon. Shooting resumes tomorrow, but they need me for a few things today.”

“On a Sunday?” Bernard asked, incredulous.

Casper smirked. “Show business doesn’t care what day of the week it is. It’s all about work, work, work.”

And for what, a small voice asked in the back of Casper’s head. So celebrities like Sawyer could be exploited for tabloid fodder? So crew, like him and Vanessa and all the PAs from the set could be paid a fraction of what the production would eventually earn for the studio?

Those questions hung in the air as the commercials ended and Sawyer’s image filled the screen again, the two hosts now sitting on the sofa with him.

“Welcome back,” the cheery hostess said. “Today we have Sawyer Kingston with us to share his triumph after last night’s premiere of Start at the Beginning. Sawyer, tell us about your part in the film and what it was like filming with Marcus Blake.”

“It was the opportunity of a lifetime,” Sawyer said, smiling and charming in every way.

Casper barely heard a word that was said as Sawyer talked about the film. He was too busy scrutinizing every camera angle and ever nuance of Sawyer’s appearance. He spoke with animation and projected happiness, but Casper knew him well enough to see the strain under the veneer. Sawyer was tense, like he was sitting on a powder keg.

The reason for that was clear as soon as the host veered away from film talk to ask, “Sawyer, what’s all this about your personal life that’s recently come to light?”

Casper caught his breath and noticed a slight hitch in Sawyer’s breathing as well.

“Yes, I’d like to address that,” Sawyer said, his energy turning intense as he shifted the way he was sitting to lean towards the hosts. “My personal life is my own. Yes, I’m dating the most wonderful man in the world, and we are amazingly well-suited for each other. I love him.”

Warmth and a touch of numbness washed over Casper. Sawyer had just stated that he loved him on national television. It wasn’t just a one-off thing said at a premiere to shut a nosey friend up. Hearing the words expressed with so much passion, and on such a big stage, felt like Casper had been plugged into an electrifying power source, or as if he’d suddenly had too much coffee.

“But this obsession with the lives and loves of celebrities has to stop,” Sawyer went on, just as the male host was about to ask another question. “It’s disruptive and destructive to the lives of performers everywhere. We’re just bloody people. We shouldn’t have to justify ourselves to anyone about anything. So for that reason, that’s the last you or anyone else will hear me say on the subject.”

At first, the hosts smiled and laughed, as if Sawyer had said something light and entertaining.

“So tell us about this love of yours,” the hostess said, resting her elbow on her leg and her chin in her hand, like she and Sawyer were spilling the tea.

Sawyer just stared back at her. He blinked once, like she was ridiculous for ignoring what he’d just said.

The whole thing caused a gigantic bubble of dead air, right in the middle of the show. Casper knew enough about broadcasting of any sort to know dead air was like death itself.

The host quickly jumped in with, “So, Sawyer, what’s up next for you? Will you be making the move to Los Angeles next, now that your star has risen?”

“Absolutely not,” Sawyer said, back to his friendly, affable persona, as if flicking a switch.

“No?” the host asked.

“No,” Sawyer echoed. “If there’s one thing that all the attention and scrutiny I’ve undergone lately has taught me, it’s that I was so much happier back in my days of small-budget productions and UK-centric shows. I’ve had my fifteen minutes of fame, and I think I’d like to go back to doing the sort of work that makes me happy now.”

“Well, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen,” the hostess said, also back to being her cheerful self as well, but with a hint of annoyance. “Sawyer Kingston has had his taste of the pie in the sky, and now he plans to return to earth with the rest of us. We’ll be back after this.”

Casper grinned at the final shot of Sawyer before cutting to a commercial. The buzz of excitement that had hit him when Sawyer said he loved him was still there. It was the beginning of something, the start of a whole new chapter. He could feel it, for himself and for Sawyer, and he was eager to find Sawyer, wherever he was, and go forward with him.

No sooner had he had those thoughts than his phone rang. Hoping it was Sawyer, Casper reached for his phone, only to find Dr. Morrow’s name on his screen instead.

“Hello?” he answered the call uncertainly, meeting Bernard’s eyes as Bernard gave him a proud thumb’s up.

“Dr. Penhurst,” Dr. Morrow greeted him enthusiastically. “How are you this fine morning?”

Something about the false cheer in Dr. Morrow’s voice immediately had Casper on his guard. “Dr. Morrow. I’m doing well, sir. And yourself?”

“Splendid,” Dr. Morrow said. “I’ve just seen the interview with your boyfriend, Sawyer Kingston, and I’m excited to learn more about this new direction it seems he wants to go in.”

Casper didn’t know what to say for a moment. Had Dr. Morrow called him for inside scoop on what Sawyer planned to do with his life?

“I’d like to know more about it myself,” he said, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Do you think he would be interested in working with the university?” Dr. Morrow asked. “As some sort of media ambassador or some such?”

Casper’s heart sank. “I…I don’t know.”

“We don’t have a formal Theater program, yet,” Dr. Morrow went on. “But if you put in a good word for us, I’m certain we could come up with all sorts of ways to use Sawyer’s influence. Especially if he wants to do more English work.”

Casper’s mouth fell open, but he still couldn’t think of anything to say. Dr. Morrow didn’t seem aware of how offensive everything he’d just said could be. The university wanted to use Sawyer? How was that any different from Hollywood or the press or social media?

And Dr. Morrow had yet to ask if Casper was going to accept the offer of a professorship that he himself had made.

“I honestly don’t know what projects Sawyer has in mind next,” he said, feeling his ambition to be a professor dissolving as he spoke.

“Do let us know,” Dr. Morrow said. Only as an afterthought did he ask, “Have you given anymore thought to our offer? We’d like to have this settled as soon as possible.”

“I’ve almost made up my mind,” Casper said. It was true, just not in the way Dr. Morrow probably anticipated. He had to speak to Sawyer, not to mention Gregory Anders, before making a final decision. “I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

“We look forward to your call,” Dr. Morrow said.

They exchanged goodbyes, then Casper tapped his phone to end the call.

“Well?” Bernard asked him. “Do I get to call you Professor Penhurst at last?”

Casper turned to focus on Bernard. “They only want me because of Sawyer,” he said.

“Oh,” Bernard said, looking crestfallen, as if he understood. “Well, fuck them. You always have a place here, but I’m sure someplace better will come along that wants you for you.”

Casper broke into a surprise smile. “I think they already have,” he said. He pushed back his chair, stood, and reached for his messenger bag. “Excuse me, but I’m needed on set,” he said, his smile growing wider.

“Of course you are,” Bernard said, thumping Casper’s back as he passed. “You’re a very important person.”

Casper laughed as he headed out of the dining room and on to the garage to fetch his car. He was a very important person, and it wasn’t because he was dating a celebrity or because he was a consultant for a television show, or even because he might be a professor. He was important because he knew important things about people who were often overlooked, and he was filled with a passion to share those things. That was as important as it got.

As he took the lift down to the garage, he opened his phone and started a text message to Sawyer. “I’m so proud of you. What a fantastic interview! For the record, I love you, too, and whatever you choose to do with your life next, I want to be right there by your side.”

He tapped send as he stepped out of the lift, then lifted his head and smiled. Whatever Sawyer decided, whatever he decided, too, Casper had a feeling everything was about to change.