Page 43 of Fallen Angel

“It should be on my desk. Are you sure …” Her heart starts pounding.

“I don’t see it,” he says.

And then she remembers: She never took the Klein v. Klein files out of her briefcase. “Oh my god, Gavin. I’m so sorry. It’s in my bag. It was a total accident. Do you need it now? I can jump in a cab.” She says it not really expecting him to take her up on the offer, but he says he’d appreciate it.

She ends the call, thinking that it was a sign. A sign for her to stick with her decision and make some serious changes.

As soon as that psycho Violet leaves the club, Billy Barton walks half a block west to the male grooming salon, Sugar. It’s owned and operated by his first male lover, Harvey Hixenbaugh. It’s the place where he knows he’ll find Tyler.

Billy met Harvey, twenty years his senior, at the legendary meatpacking restaurant Florent after a night of clubbing senior year in high school. Billy had planned to wait until he was safely at college to act on his homosexuality, but that changed with Harvey, who proved to be the perfect partner in exploring a side of himself he couldn’t admit to his conservative friends and family.

It was a glorious six-month affair, an endless loop of nightlife that introduced him to the artists and tastemakers who set the tone of fashion, music, and film. The experience inspired him to try to make a name for himself in that world, and he did.

But now this mess with Violet.

Billy rings the bell at Sugar, and one of Harvey’s twink assistants lets him in. The salon is like a private club: All the top male models, actors, and porn stars go to Harvey for sugaring—a lot like waxing but better. Achieving the perfect sugar-based paste is a skill, and Harvey charges an arm and a leg—no pun intended—for his expertise and services. It’s still impossible to get an appointment without a referral. Billy referred Tyler, and still he had to take a late-night time slot.

“Billy, you couldn’t stay away from him, eh? Oh, young love. I miss it,” Harvey says. “But if you were hoping for a show, you’re a few minutes too late. We’re all finished.”

“Actually, I need to talk to Tyler. To both of you.”

Tyler looks confused. “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not.” Then, to Harvey, he says, “Can we talk in your office?”

“Does this involve me? Good lord, what could it be this time. I’m finally clean and sober, so I think I’d remember if I’d done something to merit a talk,” Harvey says.

“No—it has nothing to do with you, but I’m thinking you might be the voice of reason. Because I have a serious decision to make.”

“This way, kids.”

Billy and Tyler follow him to his office and sit on the couch under a Jackson Pollock—a gift from one of Harvey’s clients. Harvey sits behind his immaculate glass desk.

“What’s going on?”

“I told you that I spent some time at The Cellar. But then I got worried about being recognized, so I found someone who would make house calls.”

At this point, Tyler is looking a bit flushed and he’s bouncing his crossed leg up and down. Billy takes his hand.

“I wanted to bring Tyler into it—he said he was game because it was important to me. So she came over last week and did a session with the two of us.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harvey smiles.

“It was good. Until she showed me this.”

Billy slides a photo across the desk to Harvey.

“What is it?” Tyler says.

Harvey looks at it for less than two seconds and shakes his head. “What does she want?”

“What is it?” Tyler repeats, with more of an edge than Billy’s ever heard from him. Harvey passes him the photo. Tyler examines it and a vein visibly throbs in his neck. “Jesus, Billy! What the fuck is this? I can’t have this floating around. My agent is negotiating my new Burberry contract!”

“I know, I know,” Billy says, squeezing his hand. “I’m going to deal with this.” To Harvey, he says, “She wants me to bankroll a club for her.”

“She wants cash?”

“Not just cash. She wants me to be a partner in a club with her—she wants my money to back it, but she also wants me involved to use my connections to get the right people in the door.”