If It Fornicates (Market Garden, #4)(27)

After some brief small talk, Linda said, “Well, this was certainly a surprise. And Spencer, we haven’t seen you in ages. You really must come to dinner again soon.”

Nick raised an eyebrow.

Spencer didn’t look at him. “I’d like that very much. Anyway, I won’t keep you.” He nodded towards the couple’s children—three boys, none older than ten—sitting at a table across the room. “Tell them I said hello.”

Why not have them come over here and say hello? Nick thought. Oh. Right. Boyfriend.

The pair offered thin smiles, and then returned to their children. As they left, Spencer sat across from Nick again, releasing a breath as he dropped into the chair.

A waiter appeared and explained the daily specials. While they sounded good, Nick wasn’t hungry anymore, and Spencer didn’t order any food, either.

“Friends of yours?” Nick asked.

“He and I work together.” Spencer gave him a puzzled look. “Why? Do you know them?” Before Nick could even answer, the pieces must have fallen into place, because Spencer’s eyes widened and his spine straightened. “Oh.”

Nick dropped his gaze, thumbing the tiny vase in the middle of the table that held a single flower. “I think he recognized me too.”

“Well, you’re a difficult man to forget, Nick.”

He met Spencer’s eyes, and couldn’t help chuckling. “Glad I made an impression.”

Spencer smiled. He glanced at the couple again, then shook his head. “Well, I wonder if the entire office will know I’m gay by the time I get back to work on Tuesday.”

“You could blackmail him,” Nick said, only half-joking. “He outs you, you out him.”

Spencer laughed and clamped down on it when the waiter returned to set two coffees in front of them. “Nah. I think it’s time this cat came out of the bag anyway.” He gave the waiter a nod of thanks.

“They . . . the people you work with, they really don’t know?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. And I’m . . . I’m not even sure why I told them just now.” He looked Nick in the eye. “Just didn’t seem right to introduce you any other way.”

Nick swallowed. “Even if it meant outing yourself?”

Spencer nodded.

Nick wrapped his hands around his coffee cup, seeking the warmth in the ceramic mug. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“What else would I do?” Spencer asked softly. “I’m not ashamed of you. Why should I pretend to be?”

God. Spencer really did know how to get Nick right in the soft parts.

All Nick could offer as a response was a whispered, “Thank you.”

Spencer reached out and placed a hand on Nick’s wrist. “And I can stay out of his way, mostly. He’s the partner in charge of the tax practice. He’s pretty important, regularly makes the list of best lawyers. If anything, I’m too small fry for him to be interested in messing with my career.”

“You think he could?”

“Office politics.” Spencer waved a hand. “But they can’t really do much in any case. It’s illegal to discriminate against me, and there’s always the Darky Bonus.”

Nick didn’t catch the reference immediately, but then he winced. “Shit, Spencer, I . . .”

“It’s okay. Pretending it doesn’t exist is worse than acknowledging it.” Spencer took a mouthful of his coffee. “I just didn’t want to be a double minority, or I might have come out earlier.”

“That f*cking place doesn’t deserve you,” Nick ground out.

Spencer smiled at him, warm and sweet. “Seems too late to leave now. I could potentially be partner in a year or two.”

“Is that what you want?”

Sighing, Spencer shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe when the job market thaws, I’ll go work for another firm. A place that’s a bit more . . . colourful.” He gave a snort of humourless laughter. “Can’t believe my office still doesn’t have a GLBTQ group. Though I haven’t made the effort to start one, either, so maybe that’s my fault.”

Great. High-stress job, habitual backstabbing in a place that didn’t value him and didn’t make him feel safe. And Nick had moaned about Market Garden on occasion. “It’s not your fault, Spencer. It’s their f*cking job to make sure you feel comfortable and acknowledged. It’s maybe not common knowledge, but there’s plenty of evidence that non-discrimination policies and positive attitudes in the workplace towards minorities boost overall productivity.”

Spencer arched a questioning eyebrow. “You sound quite knowledgeable.”

“Well, I’ve studied motivation and burnout,” Nick muttered. “Academically.”

“You ever get burned out in your job?”

Nick whistled. “Oh, once in a while, yes.” Though it’s not burnout lately, is it, Nick? You know better than anyone it’s not. He shook the thought away and took a sip from his coffee. “But a physically demanding job like that isn’t quite so hard on the psyche as a soul-sucking job in a miserable environment, is it?”

Spencer pursed his lips. “You know, before I knew you, I’d have thought it was ironic, hearing that from . . . someone in your line of work. But now . . .”