Chapter Two

~ Patrick ~

I should have made a bet.

I'd be rich.

I tugged at the edges of my bowtie, trying to get it straight. I hated these damn things. My only relief was the fact that it was my tux and not a rental. I'd spent my childhood wearing my brother's hand-me-downs. I had a strong aversion to wearing other people's clothes.

I'd hated it then and I'd hate it now.

I frowned at the slightly tilted bowtie. I guess it wasn't going to get any better than this. I grabbed the present I'd bought for the happy couple and walked out of my hotel room and headed downstairs.

Thankfully, I hadn't booked a hotel room anywhere close to where my parents lived. It wasn't too far from the wedding venue so I wasn't surprised to see a few people I knew when I reached the lobby.

I ignored everyone and headed straight for the front doors so I could hail a taxi to take me to the venue. Renting a car for the two days I'd be in California didn't seem worth it.

I climbed into the taxi the doorman had hailed for me and gave directions to the venue. That was another reason I hadn't rented a car. I needed these few minutes to prepare myself for the coming confrontation with Peter.

And I had no doubt that it would be a confrontation. Peter would be up to his usual antics. I knew that for a fact. I didn't think he could go a single second of his life without bullying someone. It was like oxygen for him.

I felt really bad for whoever he was marrying.

I groaned when we reached the wedding venue. That ride had not been long enough. I almost told him to drive around for a little longer, but I knew if I didn't get this over with, I never would.

I paid the driver and climbed out of the car. I drew in a deep breath and walked up the stairs to the main doors. I could hear the low murmur of voices as soon as I stepped inside.

I knew I was a bit early, but I had wanted to get a good seat, that being one at the back of the venue so I'd have a quick escape. It looked as if I had arrived before anyone else, but there was still a flurry of activity.

At first, I thought it was people getting everything ready for the ceremony, but I quickly realized that the workers were whispering amongst themselves. It was what they were whispering that had me so confused.

Had the wedding been cancelled?

What was going on here?

I stopped the first worker that passed by me and asked, "Can you tell me where the Scotton family is?"

I needed to talk to my mother and father and figure out what was going on here. Maybe I could go home early?

"Oh, um, I'm not sure exactly, but their wedding preparation room is the third door down on the second floor." She pointed behind me. "The stairs are right over there."

"Thank you."

I hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to the third door. Inside the room was silent so I wondered if anyone was inside. I knocked and waited. After a moment, the door opened and my father stood there.

I didn't like the grim look on his face.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

My father sighed and stepped back, allowing me to enter.

I quickly scanned the room, but only found my mother. "Where's Peter?" He should have been here.

"That seems to be the big question," my father replied.

"What?"

"Your idiot brother didn't come to the venue this morning," my father said. I was a little shocked. I had never heard him call my brother an idiot. "When he didn't show, I called the hotel only to find out that he checked out last night."

"He checked out?" I asked, astonished.

"He's just got cold feet," my mother said. "He's young. It's understandable. I just wish he had said something to me. I could have talked to him about it."

My eyebrows shot up when my father rolled his eyes.

Had his blinders finally fallen off?

"Does his fiancé know?" I asked.

My father shook his head and my mother let out a little sob.

"He's still getting ready for the ceremony," my father said. "His parents are with him and..."

"And what?"

"We can't tell his parents." My mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Our reputation will be ruined if this gets out."

"You're worried about your reputation?" Were they for real? "Some guy is going to be left at the altar because you are afraid people will think badly of you?"

"Son, you don't understand," my father insisted. "We do business with his parents. They are one of our biggest clients. If this gets out, the company could go under."

"One way or another, it's going to get out. Don't you get that? If you tell them now, it's going to be a lot less of an issue than if you wait for Peter to not show up for the ceremony."

"You tell him."

I stared at my father, wondering just how much of his mind he had truly lost. "You want me to go tell a man I have never met that my estranged brother is an idiot?"

"Peter is not an idiot." My mother jumped up and stomped her foot. "He's just scared."

I called bullshit.

"Peter is thirty-eight years old, Mother. If you keep coddling him, he's never going to learn to take responsibility for his actions."

My father's face flushed with anger. "Don't speak to your mother like that!"

Seriously?

"You're going to take a hit from this one way or the other," I said. "It's up to you how much of a hit you take."

This wasn't rocket science. If they admitted now that my brother had gotten cold feet and run off, it was going to look a whole lot better if they left Peter's fiancé standing at the altar, especially with all the wedding guests to be looking on.

"Keep trying to reach Peter," I directed, using my hospital administrator voice. "I'm going to go talk with his fiancé."

I spun around and stormed out of the room. I didn't slam the door after I walked out no how much I wanted to. My parents had taught me better than that. Under the current circumstances, it seemed like I was the only one.

I walked back down the stairs to the main floor and flagged down the closest worker, asking for the room of the other groom. I was directed to another set of stairs that led to the far side of the building.

My heart felt heavy as I climbed the stairs. I wasn't looking forward to breaking this guy's heart, but I couldn't let him stand at the altar waiting for a groom that would never appear.

Once I reached the second floor, it was easy to pick out the room where the groom was waiting. It was the third door down just like Peter's room.

I drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door.

When the door swung open, I was faced with an older man. "Hello, my name is Patrick Scotton, Peter's brother. I wondered if I could have a moment to speak with the groom."

When the man gave me a quizzical look, I smiled. "I haven't had the chance to introduce myself yet. I thought it would be rude to do so after the ceremony."

"Yes, of course." The man stepped back so I could enter the room. "I'm Oscar Dinh."

I tilted my head even as I shook the man's hand. "Dinh is a very unusual name." I'd only heard it once before and that had been a lifetime ago.

"It's Vietnamese."

I knew that.

"My parents immigrated here during the Vietnam War and opened a restaurant in San Francisco. I was born here a year later."

That explained the name.

"My son is in the other room getting ready."

I nodded and then watched as the man walked over and knocked softly on the door. I heard a voice from inside his room, but couldn't make out what was said.

Mr. Dinh opened the door and peeked his head inside. "You have a visitor, son."

"Who is it, Dad?"

"He says his name is Patrick Scotton. He's Peter's brother."

"Peter's brother?"

My eyebrows pulled together when I heard that soft spoken voice. I'd heard it before, but it had been a very long time. Still, I had never forgotten the sweet sound that had haunted my dreams for years.

I stepped up to the doorway and pressed a hand to my chest when I caught my first glance at the man I'd come to see. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it was painful. He was just as beautiful now as he had been when we were in high school.

And he was engaged to my idiot brother.

Maybe.

"I only need a few minutes of your time."

The groom nodded. When his father stepped out of the way, I walked into the room and then turned to shut the door behind me. I wanted this conversation to be in private.

"Do you know where Peter is?"

I shook my head. "That's what I came to talk to you about."

The man's shoulders slumped.

"Zaq, right?" I knew it was his name. I just wasn't sure I wanted him to know that I remembered him. Not yet. I wasn't ready for that.

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure if you remember me, but—"

"I was a couple of grades below you in high school, but I remember you."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Have you heard from Peter?" he asked me.

God, this is going to suck.

"We haven't, but my parents tried to get in contact with him this morning and found out that he has checked out of his hotel room."

Instead of being surprised, Zaq nodded. "Yeah, I figured that would happen."

My eyebrows shot up. "You knew?"

Zaq grabbed his cell phone and handed it to me. "Peter's mistress sent me these this morning."

"His what?" I nearly shouted. "Peter has a mistress?"

Why was I not surprised.

Zaq let out a rueful laugh. "Apparently."

I took the phone and started going through the pictures that had been sent to him. Most of them were for public viewing, just Peter and some brunette holding hands, attending a candlelight dinner, and cuddling on a couch.

There were a few that were a lot more graphic. That was a side of my brother that I never wanted to see. That was a sight of a woman I never wanted to see.

I shuddered in disgust.

"She told me that Peter couldn't force himself to go through with the marriage, that he was disgusted by the very idea of marrying me so he had run off with her." Zaq drew in a heavy breath. "She also said Peter wasn't going to pay any of the cancelation fees since today was the day of the wedding and I'd have to be financially responsible for all of it."

That rat bastard.

"You won't have to take responsibility for it." I'd pay it if I had to. "Peter is the one that cancelled the wedding by running away with his mistress. He should be the one to pay whatever fees there are."

I sat down in the chair next to Zaq, resting my elbows on my knees. "I'm really sorry about this, Zaq. My brother is a bonehead. Even if he decided he didn't want to marry you, he shouldn't have waited until the day of your wedding."

"It's not your fault," Zaq replied. "If I remember correctly, you haven't even been home in ten years."

"I've come back to visit every now and then, but just my parents. Peter and I don't really get along."

"I'm not surprised," Zaq replied. "He didn't have a lot of good things to say about you."

"I'm not surprised either." Peter never had anything good to say about me. "It doesn't bother me much anymore. Having spent the last ten years not being called derogatory names or being bullied has actually been kind of nice."

Zaq winced. "He really did that?"

I shrugged. "Water under the bridge."

Zaq sighed before rubbing his hands over his face, his sigh growing into a loud grown before he dropped his hands. "I don't know what to do now. My parents are going to flip when they find out I'm not getting married."

"Why?" I asked. "I'd think they would be happy you're not marrying a man that not only has a mistress, but leaves you at the altar on the day of your wedding."

Made perfect sense to me.

"The whole mistress thing isn't an issue in my family. My mother is perfectly aware that my father has a mistress and even encourages him to spend time with her."

"No shit?"

"My parents' marriage was a marriage of convenience. They did not marry for love. They don't have that kind of relationship. They live together and attend all public outings together, but behind closed doors, they live very separate lives."

"That must be pretty tough for you."

I couldn't even imagine it. My parents might not have been the best parents in the world, but at least I knew that they loved each other and me.

"I grew up that way so it was more of a surprise when I learned that other families weren't like that than anything. I'm not in real favor of having a side-piece, but it's not my place to tell someone else they can't do that."

"So, if the mistress thing isn't a problem in your house, then why will your father be upset if you don't marry Peter?"

"A couple of reasons really," Zaq said. "The biggest reason is that I am thirty-one year old gay man and not married. My father says it doesn't look good. He seems to believe this is my only chance to ever get married."

"You're gorgeous," I stated. "I'm sure you have plenty of men clambering to marry you."

Zaq chuckled even as his cheeks heated. "You'd think that, but there are a lot less than you'd think."

"I don't believe it."

"My dating life had been dismal. Most men I have been interested in either wanted to treat me like a delicate little doll, arm candy, or were repulsed by what I do for a living."

I hated dating, too, so I could understand where he was coming from. When people learned that I was a doctor, they saw gold plated dollar signs, not me.

"The other reason is that your father and my father do business together," Zaq continued. "Once both our fathers retired, the companies were supposed to merge and Peter was set to take over as CEO of both companies. My father can't exactly let Peter take over if we're not married."

"Don't you want to take over the company? It's your family's company."

"No." Zaq smiled as he shook his head. "I've never wanted the family business. My career path took a totally different direction."

I was intrigued by the smile on Zaq's face. "What do you do?"

"I'm a nurse. I know it sounds odd for a man to be a nurse. Believe me, I hear it from my father all the time, but I love what I do. Currently, I work in triage in the emergency room, but over the last five years I've worked all sorts of different departments."

I sucked in a breath. "You're a nurse?"

Could he be any more perfect?

Zaq eyed me critically. "Yeah. So what?"

I sent him a friendly smile. "I'm a doctor."

Zaq's eyes rounded. "You're a doctor?"

I nodded.

"Peter said you worked at a convenience store."

"I did back when I was working my way through medical school. I've been a doctor for several years now. Well, I'm a hospital administrator right now, but I just turned in my resignation letter. I want to go back to practicing medicine, not doing an endless amount of paperwork."

"You're a hospital administrator?"

"For the next two weeks."

And then the sky was the limit.