Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

It was like something out of a bloody romcom, and Toby loved it. Misunderstandings, confessions of love on a street corner, and an unexpected kiss to top it all off. All they needed now was a clap of thunder and a sudden, torrential downpour, and Silver Productions would want to make a movie out of his and Robbie's whirlwind romance along with whatever medieval shows they were planning to produce.

Thinking of Silver Productions focused Toby on the task that needed doing.

"We need to talk to Aaron and whoever else is in charge of these things at Silver Productions right away," he said, darting back into the house to fetch his keys.

"Toby, what the fuck is going on?" Gerry asked, Tommy crying in one arm and Gracie hanging off her other, whining about something.

Toby loved them in all their common, messy chaos. He dashed over to give Gerry's cheek a kiss, then shifted to the side to kiss his mum as well.

"Can't explain now," he said, circling back to grab his keys from the arm of the recliner, then heading for the door. "I've got an ancient ancestral estate to save."

He was giddy over his own theatrics, and when his mum laughed, "Blimey, but you are a mad boy, Toby Tillman."

Toby laughed in return and sent her a final look before dragging Robbie out of the house and over to his car. He'd been insulted enough to last a lifetime in the last twenty-four hours, but his mum's playful jab was the best compliment he could have gotten just then.

Correction, Robbie's awkward, blurted "I love you" was the best compliment. Ever.

"There's a good chance we can get to the offices of Silver Production before lunch, if traffic is on our side," Toby said, backing out into the street, then throwing his car into gear and speeding on.

"Do you know where their office is?" Robbie asked, gripping the edge of his seat and the car's window frame tightly, eyes staring straight ahead.

"Not a clue," Toby laughed. "I just know it's somewhere in the city."

"And yet, we're zooming off, like we're in the final fifteen minutes of an action flick," Robbie said.

Toby was so giddy he almost missed the turn that would take him to the M25. "Might be a good idea to whip out that mobile phone of yours and look up directions," he said.

Robbie did just that as Toby broke half a dozen driving laws to get them to one of the major arteries that led into the city as swiftly as possible. Directions were easy to find, and in a stroke of pure, dumb luck, it turned out that Silver Productions had just moved their offices to Richmond from their old location all the way in the heart of the city.

Not only was Richmond quicker to reach from where they started, the parking situation wasn't as dire as it could have been. It wasn't fantastic, but at least they were able to find a place where Toby's car would be safe as they got out and all but ran the remaining distance to the unassuming building that housed the production company.

Of course, they met with another obstacle when the receptionist stared at them with stern disapproval instead of letting them rush off to the executive offices to find Aaron.

"It's an emergency," Robbie explained. "Time is of the essence."

"Tell him Toby Tillman and Robert Hawthorne, Jr. are here to see him," Toby added, so full of adrenaline that he could have leapt over the receptionist's desk to shake her into action himself.

"You can't just burst in here demanding to see people," the young woman snapped back, staring at Toby's lip ring, like that alone was reason to deny them access to important people.

Toby growled and nearly danced around the room in agitation.

He was saved from making a fool of himself when Aaron popped his head out of one of the offices within sight of the front desk and said, "Toby? And Robbie Hawthorne?" He burst into a smile at the sight of Robbie and stepped all the way out of his office. "What are the two of you doing here? I thought the Hawthorne family turned down our deal."

Toby froze, eyes wide. Once he picked his stomach back up off the floor, then glanced quickly at Robbie, he turned to Aaron and said, "What the fuck is this?"

The receptionist pursed her lips and shook her head.

Aaron looked completely gobsmacked.

Robbie tutted and said, "Perhaps you should take a few, deep breaths before you give yourself a stroke."

Given the heightened tension of the moment, that nearly made Toby laugh.

Aaron walked closer to them and solved the mystery by saying, "I received a call from Charles Duckworth, who said he was operating as the family's agent. He said there was no interest in a filming deal after all."

Toby nearly shouted with rage, and Robbie made a frustrated, grumbling sound.

"I've been trying to call you, but I haven't been able to get through," Aaron said, then glanced to Robbie and added, "To anyone."

It occurred to Robbie that in his haste to get going, he might have left his phone at home. But that was a minor detail now.

"We very much would like to come to an agreement with Silver Productions," Robbie said, sounding like the dignified nob he probably was, underneath all the clay and sweetness. "Charles Duckworth has no connection to our family at all. In fact, he's been working steadfastly today to undermine and destroy us."

Aaron's eyes went wide. "I thought something smelled off about that call."

"Everything about Duckworth is off," Toby said. "He's trying to force the Hawthorne family to sell out to Willoughby Entertainment. So far today, he's interfered with a loan keeping the place afloat and two grants. Who knows what else he's got his fingers in now."

If Duckie could reach out to Silver Productions, he could do anything.

"The fact is," Robbie said, sounding far more sensible than Toby, "we're in a bind at the moment. The business with the loan is especially worrying. We don't have the money to repay it. Unless some sort of advance could be offered by Silver Productions?"

Toby watched for Aaron's reaction, worried the last-minute save would be too much of an ask.

Fortunately, Aaron frowned and rubbed his lips as he thought about it for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision.

"We need to talk to Heath Manfred," he said, nodding and gesturing for Toby and Robbie to come with him. "Heath is in charge of greenlighting things like this. He also has more than a couple tricks up his sleeve that I've seen save the day before."

Toby was more relieved than he could say for things to start moving in a direction that might actually help them. He and Robbie followed Aaron deeper into the office and up a flight of stairs to another hallway filled with larger, posher offices. They headed all the way to the end before Aaron knocked on the frame of an open door.

"Do you have a minute?" he asked the gorgeous man in his thirties sitting behind a large desk, tapping away on his computer.

The man glanced up, his look turning curious. "What's going on?"

Aaron didn't seem overly worried or like he'd be fired for interrupting the boss, so Toby chose not to be worried either. Robbie, on the other hand, grabbed Toby's hand for support as Aaron gestured for them to move all the way into the room. Toby threaded his fingers through Robbie's and squeezed.

"This is Robbie Hawthorne, the master potter I've told you about before, and Toby Tillman, who is working on behalf of the Hawthorne family on the filming deal we discussed," Aaron made the introductions.

The man behind the desk, Heath Manfred, stood with a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, stepping out from behind his desk and extending a hand.

His gaze slipped to note Robbie and Toby were holding hands before Toby had to let go to shake.

"The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Manfred," Toby said, shaking the man's hand vigorously.

"Call me Heath, please," he said with a smile.

"I wish we were meeting under better circumstances," Robbie said, shaking the man's hand as well, "but I'm afraid we're in a bit of a pickle."

Toby could have laughed at the casual way Robbie described the potential downfall of his family's legacy.

"I know a little bit about what's going on," Heath said. "As I understand it, there's a question of signing a contract for filming at Hawthorne House?"

"There is," Toby said, "but now we've got a bigger problem."

"Willoughby Entertainment Group is attempting to buy our estate so that they can turn the grounds into an amusement park," Robbie explained as Heath gestured for them to take the seats in front of his desk. "We turned down their deal, but now their representative, Charles Duckworth, is trying his best to force our hand by meddling in our financial affairs."

Once they were all seated, Toby and Robbie related the entire story to Heath Manfred. Toby squirmed like a five-year-old as the explanations went on and on. The only hopeful moment in the time he was certain they were wasting came when he noticed the framed pictures on the cabinets behind Heath's desk. They were of him and a red-headed man, including one that looked like a wedding picture. Others had the two of them with a young girl, and another had the three of them with a new baby.

Knowing Heath Manfred was on their team, so to speak, filled Toby with inexplicable confidence.

"So you see," Robbie finished up the explanation, "if Duckworth continues down this path, and if Willoughby Entertainment doesn't relent, we stand to lose everything."

"I do see," Heath said, nodding as he leaned back in his chair, hands steepled. He stared at Toby and Robbie for a painfully long time before inexplicably asking, "Are the two of you together?"

Toby's mouth dropped open, but he had no idea what to say.

Robbie saved him by blurting, "I'd like to be, but there was a bit of a mess, and now I'm waiting for redemption."

Toby nearly snorted out a laugh. "He told me he loved me just now," he said, feeling lightheaded.

For some reason, that seemed like exactly what Heath wanted them to say.

"Good," he said with a quick nod, then pushed himself to stand. "Gentlemen, I'd like you to join me for lunch at my club."

The apparent shift in subject and mood was so abrupt that it left Toby reeling.

"With all due respect," Robbie said, standing when Heath stepped around his desk, "and as much as I'm flattered by the invitation, time really is of the essence. I don't know if we can afford to take a break to have lunch."

Heath sent them a mischievous smile. "Trust me, Mr. Hawthorne, Mr. Tillman. You can't afford not to take this lunch meeting with me."

Hearing the proposed lunch described at a meeting immediately switched Toby's thinking about everything. It was business, he was certain of it. Heath Manfred had a business proposition for them, and he wanted to discuss it the right setting.

"You lead the way and we'll follow," he said as he, too, stood.

Robbie sent a questioning look to him, but walked with him as Toby caught up to Heath in the hallway.

The whirlwind morning stepped up a notch as Heath ordered a car brought around for them. Within minutes, Toby and Robbie found themselves seated in a limousine, heading into the heart of the city.

"I don't know much about Willoughby Entertainment Group or Charles Duckworth," Heath said, "but I know all about shady business dealings and people who think a great deal of themselves trying to pull strings behind the scenes. If they try to play dirty, then you just have to play your trump card."

Toby didn't really have the first clue what the man was talking about, but he liked him. It was hard not to like Heath Manfred's confidence and his good nature. More than that, as they spent the trip telling Heath about Hawthorne House, the Hawthorne Community Arts Center, and everything that the family was doing, both in their artistic fields and for their local community, Heath listened. He actually listened, absorbing it all like he was hatching multiple plans to make things right as they rolled along.

Toby was surprised when they stopped outside what he thought at first was a hotel bordering the western side of Hyde Park. Without missing a beat, Heath led them from the limo, through a discreet door and a foyer where they had to go through security, then into something that was out of a Victorian gentleman's dream.

"This is The Chameleon Club," he explained, nodding to a pair of men having a conversation off to one side of the hall. "It's the primary home of a group called The Brotherhood, which was formed in the eighteen-thirties."

"I've heard of The Brotherhood," Robbie said, glancing around at everything in astonishment. "In fact, I think Rafe is a member."

"Is he?" Heath asked with a smile. "Well, that's highly convenient."

Toby didn't have the first clue what they were talking about, but judging by how posh everything was, it was most likely an aristocrat thing.

They climbed a small set of marble stairs, then headed along another hallway to a large, echoey room filled with tables. There was a buffet on one side and wait staff rushing about refilling glasses and helping some of the decidedly crusty older gentlemen at the tables. Even with that, after the time he'd spent at Hawthorne House for the past two weeks, Toby took one look at the pseudo-restaurant and thought, "Ballroom."

"The Brotherhood was originally created as a safe haven for gay men in the nineteenth century," Heath continued his explanation as he waved to a small group of decidedly stuffy-looking gentlemen at another table, then headed in that direction. "Of course, lesbian, bi, and trans people were admitted beginning in the seventies, but for nearly two centuries, The Brotherhood's main purpose has been to come to each other's aid in times of trouble. No man left behind and all," he added as they reached the table.

Toby suddenly understood what the lunch was all about and why Heath had brought them there. If Duckie was going to play hardball by calling in favors behind the scenes with the intent of bringing about the Hawthorne family's ruin, then Heath Manfred was going to give the Hawthornes and Toby the means to counter that with favors of their own.

"Gentlemen," Heath spoke to the table. "This is Mr. Toby Tillman and Mr. Robbie Hawthorne of Hawthorne House."

"Good heavens," one of the older gentlemen said, like something straight out of a BBC broadcast from decades ago. "You don't mean the Earl of Felcourt, do you?"

Toby wanted to laugh. As much as he hated it, it looked like nobs had a use after all.

"That's my father," Robbie said, looking like he'd been hit over the head with something and dragged into the club instead of coming of his own free will.

One of the other men narrowed his eyes and said, "Not Robert Hawthorne."

"Yes, that's my father," Robbie said.

That man sent a sly look to a third man at the table and said, "I knew him when he was young. Quite the adventurous young buck, if I recall."

Toby couldn't stop himself from laughing at the embarrassed flush that instantly painted Robbie's face. He'd heard from Mr. Hawthorne himself at various points in the last two weeks that he was flexible and that he'd gotten around in his youth, before meeting Janice and having seven children with her. But meeting someone who knew all about that first-hand was a treat.

"Er, I'll tell him you said hello?" Robbie said, bristling with awkwardness.

"Does he still have that racy little MG Midget?" the older gentleman asked.

Robbie floundered, turning redder by the moment, and was only saved by Heath interrupting with, "You can catch up on old times later, Benny." He turned to Toby and Robbie and said, "This is Benjamin Hollis, Michael Everdale, George Plimpton, Freddy Noble, and Giovanni Brancusi."

The older gentlemen nodded and waved, smiling with interest, especially when Heath pulled out chairs and gestured for them all to sit down.

Toby sat without thinking of it, without being able to think. He felt as though he'd stepped into something surreal, but as long as Heath looked confident, Toby would go along for the ride.

"Mr. Tillman and Mr. Hawthorne here were just telling me about the troubles Hawthorne House is experiencing at the moment," Heath said as one of the wait staff rushed over with a tray containing glasses of ice water. "I immediately thought of you lot as the people who might be able to help them out."

"Troubles?" Benny asked, looking with particular interest at Robbie. "What troubles?"

"An entertainment group has been attempting to purchase Hawthorne House with the intention of turning it into an amusement park, like Alton Towers," Robbie began the story yet again. "Things have just taken a turn for the worse, and we're all worried we might be forced into the sale."

The five older gentlemen seemed outraged by that.

"Tell us more about Hawthorne House," Mr. Everdale said. "There might be something we can do to help."

It was the most surreal lunch meeting Toby had ever taken. As he and Robbie explained the situation with Hawthorne House and Willoughby Entertainment one more time, with slightly more detail, since they had questions fired at them every few minutes, the club's wait staff discreetly took their orders and presented them with food of a quality that Toby only imagined in his wildest dreams.

More than that, despite the five men at the table being old and obviously well-off, and possibly even titled themselves, not one of them turned up their nose at his appearance or questioned why he and Robbie were working together on something that was clearly above his class.

It might have had something to do with the other men and women in the club around them. Yes, it was like stepping back into the Victorian era, but the more Toby looked around as he ate, the more he saw every sort of person imaginable, from men in drag, women who looked like they'd come straight in from the docks, dandies who seemed to think they were still in the eighties, the eighteen-eighties, and even a butch woman with a mohawk and nose ring. Apparently, The Brotherhood accepted everyone, eccentricities and all.

"So basically," Robbie said as he finished his fillet and took a sip of the red wine he'd been served with it, "we've got a potential deal with Silver Productions," he nodded to Heath, who had moved on to enjoy a tiramisu for pudding, "but if the bank truly does have the power to call in that loan, we're sunk."

The five older gentlemen hummed and nodded and exchanged looks with each other.

"That does seem like a sticky wicket," George said, his voice rough and gravelly.

"I suppose there's only one thing to be done," Benny added with a shrug.

"And what's that?" Toby asked.

"Why, we need to go to Hawthorne House to see all of this for ourselves," Benny said, smiling.

Part of Toby wanted to roll his eyes as the day they were having promised to turn even madder. A larger part of him was giddy with anticipation to see what a bunch of aging queens could do to beat Duckie at his own game.

"I'd be happy to host you sometime this week," Robbie said. "I could make arrangements?—"

"No, no," Giovanni said in his flamboyant, Italian accent. "We need to go now. Pronto !"

"What, right now?" Toby asked, nearly spilling his wine as he reached for the glass.

"Yes," George said, slapping the table, then using the gesture to stand. "I say we decamp to Hawthorne House right this very moment and solve this problem before it becomes any bigger."

"Hear, hear!" the others agreed, pushing their chairs back and standing as well.

"I trust you have a conveyance for us?" Benny asked Heath.

"I can have the limo come around and pick you all up," Heath answered, laughing as he pulled his mobile phone from his pocket. "If you don't mind, I'll head back to my office."

"I don't mind at all," Robbie said, looking even more stunned as he and Toby stood.

The next few minutes were a blur of activity worthy of some sort of BBC comedy program as the five elderly gentlemen hurried things along to get everyone's coats, hats, and in Benny's case, ebony-topped cane so that they could go out.

"This has to be the maddest thing that's ever happened to me," Robbie said as he and Toby stood in the front hallway, waiting for the others. "And I come from a large, eccentric family."

Toby laughed. "I tell you what, though. I think I like this place." He glanced around, then up at the domed, mosaiced ceiling above them. "I wonder if they're accepting new members."

His curious thoughts were stopped short as Robbie caressed the side of his face, then turned his head so that he could kiss him. Toby's brow shot up, but he relaxed into the kiss in no time, relishing the sweet softness of Robbie's lips and the underlying need behind the seemingly casual kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked breathlessly once Robbie inched back.

"For being my salvation," Robbie said. "Once again, I don't even know how, you're looking out for me."

Toby laughed. "Mate, none of this is me. It's Heath Manfred and The Brotherhood."

"It's you," Robbie said, gazing adoringly into Toby's eyes. "I have a feeling it's always been you."

Toby grinned from ear to ear, sideswiped by the sentimentality of Robbie's words.

Before he could reply, though, the gaggle of aging queens stepped down into the front hall from the corridor.

"Well, what are you waiting for, young stallions?" George called out to them.

"We've got a day to save," Benny added.

Toby laughed and took Robbie's hand as they hurried to join them. He had absolutely no idea what was about to happen, but whatever it was, he had a feeling it was going to be a once in a lifetime moment of pure entertainment.