1 Chapter 1

Spencer Lyons tried not to let his gaze dart to the clock on the wall as he handed the boutique store package to the woman at his register. He flashed his best customer service smile. “Thank you for shopping at Pierre’s. Is there any other way I can assist you today?”

“No, that’s it. Thank you.”

He held in his sigh of relief until she had disappeared from view. Finally, he was done for the day. Opening his register, he took out the money drawer and called out to the store’s other employee that day, “I’m going to head out after I count my drawer, Denise.”

She waved her hand, not looking away from the television. It was like this every day beginning at two in the afternoon when General Hospitalwas on. Then she watched Judge Judyand Dr. Phil

Spencer quickly counted his drawer, stored the drawer and its contents properly, and left the store.

Pierre’swas one of those seaside touristy shops, this one attached to a swanky ocean view hotel. It didn’t have plastic snow globes filled with shells and sand or T-shirts with corny sayings, but what the hotel considered more high-end souvenirs. Things like sea life paintings, blown glass figurines, and water color scarves.

Stepping outside, the soft sea breeze touched his hair and blew his hair away from his face. The sun felt warm against his skin but not too hot. The worst of the year’s heat was over and with it the long days of sunlight, unfortunately.

As he bicycled the two blocks to his apartment, Spencer smiled, thinking of his plans for the evening. After something to eat and a shower, his friend Sammy was coming to pick him up and they were off to a gay Latin club in Hollywood known as Javier’s. It was Thursday night and Spencer figured he needed some action. Something to take his mind off his ever-increasing dissatisfaction.

Sure, he kind of liked working at the boutique, but the truth was, he didn’t need to work there or anywhere, really. The Lyons were old school money, a sort of West Coast Kennedys. His parents and siblings didn’t even know why Spencer worked at such a menial job. Spencer had a college degree in Fine Arts, but he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with it. His older brother was the president of a fancy hotel chain the family owned and had often suggested Spencer take an interest in hotel management instead of working in a gift shop.

He needed to do something different, he guessed. Right now his loneliness was eating away at him, but he strongly suspected that was due more to unrequited love than anything else.

Spencer was hopelessly in love with his best friend, Max Ramirez. He didn’t bother to deny it anymore, to himself anyway. Too bad Max didn’t…would never…feel the same way.

A few hours later, Sammy arrived to pick him up for the club. Sammy was similar in appearance to him, slim and well under six foot, but perhaps a little more exotic looking with dark, almond-shaped eyes, which he lined with blue kohl, and dyed black hair. They had once worked together as young college students at an ice cream shop and had bonded over their love of clubbing and hot, Hispanic men.

“Ready?” Sammy touched his cheek to Spencer’s. He took in Spencer’s tight black pants that hugged his ass and his red shirt opened at the throat. “You look gorgeous. You’ll be eaten alive.”

Spencer laughed. “I hope so.” Sammy was dressed similarly, but he wore a blue shirt to match the kohl lining his eyes, and a blue glass dangly earring in his left ear. “Look at you. Talk about gorgeous.”

Sammy winked. “Of course, darling.”

The pounding rhythms of the salsa music had his blood pumping the minute he and Sammy stepped inside the club. Being a Thursday night, he was surprised it was so crowded with dancing, gyrating men on the dance floor. Glancing at the bar, Spencer noted it was likewise crowded with men. He searched the patrons, looking for someone who would look similar enough to Max to suit. That was always his purpose. A substitute for who he really wanted.

Pathetic

“I see someone I met last time,” Sammy said into his ear. “Catch you later.”

He nodded and stepped over to the bar to order a mojito. Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer could see several guys looking his way. Spencer, with his sandy hair and boyish looks, usually got plenty of attention.

“Hello there,” someone said from directly beside him.

Spencer turned to the man and smiled. A muscular man with a thin mustache stood there leering at him. “Hi.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m not done with this one yet.”

The man leaned close. “Want to dance?”

Spencer took a couple of swallows of his drink and then abandoned it on the bar to follow the man to the dance floor. He didn’t look like Max, really, but Spencer could maybe pretend.

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