Page 2 of Doubting Hearts

“Young man, are you even listening to me?” Esther Mountjoy’s face was like crinkled crepe paper, her tone haughty. Faded blue eyes gazed out of a face that was immaculately painted. Her thin lips were twisted in a grimace of displeasure that I wasn’t hearing what she was saying. People passing by in the plush hotel entrance glanced at us curiously. Some were even loitering, waiting to see how the whole “square off” would turn out.

I’ve been listening to you for the last ten fucking minutes, you homophobic, ignorant cow.

My face formed into what I hoped was a reassuring smile and not the visage of a psycho axe murderer wanting to strike the woman’s head off her shoulders. Preferably with a blunt axe.

“Mrs. Mountjoy, of course I am. You’ve made your point loud and clear. But I’m sorry. I can’t ask these two people to leave the hotel simply because you don’t like the fact that they are—how did you put it? Oh yes, ‘poncy nancy boys.’ I’m afraid this hotel has an open policy on things like this, and we won’t judge people who wish to stay here based on their sexual preference.”

My friend and receptionist Tammy watched me carefully from the elegantly paneled wooden reception desk. She peered over the top of her very prim and proper glasses. I think she was getting ready to pull me off the lady patron standing in front of me should I decide to go completely insane. I wanted to pick up and use the stone vase sitting innocently yet alluringly on the polished oak side table in the foyer and bash this woman over her immaculately coiffed head.

“But they’re queer, Mr. Prentiss!” Esther hissed, scandalized, her gaze darting around the busy reception area, no doubt for fear someone might hear her utter a taboo word. I wanted to break into song and chant the old Northern maxim “there’s nowt so queer as folk,” but I didn’t think that would help.

“They are two gay men who have paid to stay here like everyone else, Mrs. Mountjoy.” My smile was starting to crack, my hostility level rising.

Christ, I was so bloody sick of this attitude. I’d faced it all my life. “Mr. Wren and Mr. Carmichael have every right to be here.” I clenched my hands by my sides, my fingernails cutting into my palms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tammy twitch and half stand from behind her position at the reception desk.

“Then I shan’t be coming back here, if people like that are allowed to soil these beautiful premises with their presence.” Her satisfied, smug words sent an immediate jolt of fury to my chest. “It’s scandalous, that’s what it is. That God-fearing folk like me and Mrs. Wainwright have to put up with that disgusting filth in the same place we lay our heads at night. Isn’t that right, dear Selma?” She turned to the tall, spare woman standing quietly at her side, who looked uncomfortable at her proclamation. Her eyes were raised to mine almost in apology. Selma Wainwright had always been open-minded as far as I knew. My head pounded at the description of two gay men as “disgusting filth.” My temper rose, and I groaned inwardly.

Keep it loose, Toby. For God’s sake, don’t go bloody ape shit. Not here. “Well, Esther darling, the man does have a point. They have paid—” “Selma!” Esther was totally floored. “You don’t mean you agree that they should stay here?” Selma’s face colored, and she lowered her eyes.

A man chuckled in the corner, and I glanced over. He was on a mobile phone, and I didn’t think he was laughing at the event taking place. In my present mood I would have whacked him with said vase as well.

“Mrs. Mountjoy—” My strangled voice cut off as I felt a firm clasp on my shoulder. My boss, the hotel owner Simon Winslake, stood beside me. His grip was both a warning and a comfort. His smooth baritone echoed through the hallowed entrance of the venerated Duck and Drake Hotel.

“Mrs. Mountjoy. Mrs. Wainwright. May I ask you to come with me to the Orchid Room, where you can enjoy a lovely afternoon cream tea and we can talk about what it is that concerns you? I can assure you that young Toby here is only carrying out my wishes. Perhaps you might like to address your worries to me personally so I can let him get back to his job.” Simon’s voice had always sounded like sherry to me, rich, warm, and dark, with a hint of smokiness. He was the complete stereotype of the English gentry. About forty, tall, handsome, and wiry, with silver-streaked dark-brown hair, tanned cheeks, and dressed to kill in a tweed suit which looked casual but which I knew was from DAKS.

I felt peeved that I hadn’t been able to let loose on the woman standing before me with the gleam of victory spread across her features, but also relieved that Simon had stepped in when he had. I gave him a slight nod, and he smiled at me warmly. I felt a surge of affection for the man. He was always there for me when I needed him. He was my mentor and a good friend. He touched Esther Mountjoy’s shoulder, and she preened. I scowled.

What would the stupid woman do if she knew she’d been touched by a bisexual man? Go home and take a bloody shower and use her pumice stone to scrub her wrinkly skin? Simon was bisexual but kept his dalliances with men private. Only a select few knew of his sexual proclivities. I was one of them. I wished I could tell her so she’d scrub so hard she bled bile.

Simon continued. “Now do come with me, ladies, and let’s see what we can do about all this. I’m sure we can come to some amicable agreement.” Simon shepherded the two women off toward the richly decorated and extremely plush Orchid Room in the other wing. I watched them go, breathing a sigh of relief. I unclenched my hands and frowned when I saw crescent marks etched into my flesh. One of them was bleeding. I licked it absently, then felt a hard punch on my back. I scowled and looked around to see who was abusing me.

“God, Toby, don’t be so disgusting. You’re licking blood off your hand in public, in front of guests.” Tammy stood behind me, smiling, her eyes watchful. “Come on over here and let’s chat.”

I was pulled unceremoniously over to a small room behind the reception desk which served as our office.

“I need to get back to work, Tam,” I started to say, but she frowned and held my undamaged hand tighter. I sighed, knowing it would do no good to argue. The woman was a pit bull. I followed meekly. She turned to look at me.

“Are you all right, sweetie? God, that woman was such a bitch. I honestly thought you’d rip her throat out.” Her brown eyes regarded me through the lenses of her designer glasses, her rounded face full of concern. Tammy Whittaker was my best friend and confidante. We’d known each other for nearly four years, ever since I’d been at the Duck and Drake in the town of Stamford in Lincolnshire. Tammy had been here five years, having arrived here as a green twenty-year-old and making herself indispensable. I’d started out as a hotel porter when I was just twenty-three. I’d worked my way up to the position I’d held now for three years as general manager. I was proud of that accomplishment at the tender age of twenty-seven. Seeing where I’d come from, I think I had that right.

I nodded at her. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was getting riled, so it’s lucky that Simon intervened when he did. But I should have been able to handle it, Tam. It’s what he pays me to do.”

“I don’t think he wanted blood all over his hotel, Toby,” Tammy said wryly. “And if he’d left you with her, he might well have had buckets of it.” She touched my cheek, looking up from her five-foot-four height to my six-foot frame, and reached up to plant a warm kiss on my cheek. “It was getting personal for you, darling. Those things she said—I know how you feel about it. And so does Simon.” Tammy was the only other person at the hotel who knew about Simon’s sexual orientation.

I sighed. “That’s no excuse. Just because I’m gay myself, I shouldn’t have taken it so personally.” I shrugged. “She obviously didn’t know that, or I doubt she’d have spoken to me for fear of getting contaminated.”

“Never mind that stupid woman. You’re the best manager this hotel has ever seen, and we all adore you. Now, get out there and go and find someone else to piss off. You’re good at that.” She smiled cheekily. Warmth flooded my body at her ever-present way of making me feel better. I reached out and drew her to me, hugging her tightly.

“Thanks, Tam. If I get a chance tonight to have a break, maybe we can go down to the pub and have a drink?”

She looked at me. “Toby, since when do you give yourself a break? You have no idea how to bloody relax. If I know you, you’ll still be up wandering around this place long after everyone else had gone to sleep.” She hesitated. “Besides, Neil’s taking me to dinner at The Swan tonight.”

She glanced at me, and I pursed my lips. Neil Haydock was her live- in boyfriend, a man I didn’t like. They’d been together about four months. He was a total prick and didn’t like me at all. He was good friends with someone he thought I’d wronged years ago and it rankled with him. He wasn’t so keen on the fact that I was gay, but that wasn’t really the reason, although he needled me about it constantly. I thought he had an underlying streak of violence that Tammy didn’t seem to see. He’d never hit her to my knowledge, or I’d break the man’s legs, but he treated her like dirt. I let her comment pass and noticed the look of relief on her face.

“I do so take a break,” I exclaimed in an injured tone.

Why did people always tell me that? Yes, I worked long hours and was up at the crack of dawn, but—oh, who the hell was I kidding. She was right as usual. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been out on the town with friends or had time to myself. Unless you counted when I was in bed, and even then my mind didn’t shut down. Lately, neither did my hand. It

was too busy trying to alleviate the pressure in my cock from nearly a month of celibacy.