not have looked more shocked had Michelin presented her with a gold engagement ring on bended knee. And Michelin hadnât been thinking that. Not exactly. More like that Lucky was a nice guy who made him acutely aware of how damn long it had been since heâd been touched.
He opened his mouth to protest, but Gloria was already rolling ahead. âWait. Thatâs it. You like this kid, right? And somehow youâre sure heâs not in on the take?â
âHeâs not. And heâs . . . okay.â Michelin said the last bit cautiously, sure he wasnât going to like what came out of Gloriaâs mouth next.
âDid you set this up? Because I have to say, youâre not freaking out half as much as I expected.â Gloriaâs eyes narrowed at him.
âI donât freak out.â Except when he did. Like when confronted with the hottest guy heâd ever seen, in a club heâd had no business being inside. But she didnât need to know that. Just like she didnât need to know that inside he was a wreck. This was a moment heâd feared for close to two decadesâever since he was sixteen and played his first showâand now that it was here, he wanted to toss himself in a bottle and then back in bed, in that order. Iâm not ready.
Heâd thought yesterday, briefly, that he might be. The burden of lying seemed so heavy, especially when Gloria wanted to cut him off from the few people whose company Michelin actually enjoyed. Michelin managed without the entourage that had seemed so necessary when he was first starting outâhe had a business manager he communicated with almost solely via text, a stylist he saw before each big appearance, and a financial wizard who dealt with him through lengthy emails and mercifully short phone calls. And Gloria. Couldnât forget her. But none of them compared to the brief pleasure of being in the company of the younger guys, living vicariously through their excitement and discovery. And sheâd wanted to take that away from him. So heâd rebelled for a moment. Let himself think about stopping the lies. But deep down, heâd known it was impossible.
Except now he had to deal with the absolute worst case scenario, and all he could think was, be careful what you wish for.
âYour album drops in two weeks. We have to fix this.â A small, brittle smile appeared on Gloriaâs face. âAnd I think I know how.â
Chapter Four
@MichelinFan4Life: ZOMG. Did you see the GoZZip article? Did you? In deep mourning here. It canât be true, right?
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@MrsMichelin4Ever: I refuse to believe dirty rumors. Refuse.
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@CountryTidbits: Someoneâs got himself in hot water. Somehow Iâm not surprised.
âY ou want Lucky Rain to be my boyfriend?â Michelin was on his second cup of coffee, and he still wasnât quite sure that he understood Gloriaâs plan. Heâd demanded time to shower and eat while she made phone calls. They were in his dining area, Gloria on her tablet with her phone on a fancy little stand in front of her. Sheâd been typing and texting ever since heâd made her stop pacing and sit at the table while he made some coffee.
âRight now the story is up on GoZZip and a few other sites, but it hasnât hit the major outlets. Judging by news cycles, absent terrorism or a big hurricane on the east coast, youâll be the biggest story by Monday morning.â She spoke with the sort of finality of a news anchor describing a fifty-car pile-up.
âSo youâre saying I should be praying for a natural disaster?â Michelin took a long swallow of the extra dark roast he had shipped down from Seattle.
âIâve already checked the weather. Twice.â Gloria gave a dismissive wave. âNo. What Iâm saying is that we preempt the news cycle. Get you a story going up tomorrow on one of the biggest LGBT news outlets, with a sit-down