Chapter 5: Complications and Rumors

The first whisper reached Leo on a Tuesday morning, delivered with the casual cruelty that only office gossip could achieve.

"Did you hear about James Sullivan?" Michelle from accounting leaned over the partition separating their cubicles, her voice pitched low with the thrill of shared scandal. "Apparently he's been seen around town with some guy. Sarah's friend spotted them at that little Italian place in SoHo, looking pretty cozy."

Leo's fingers froze over his keyboard, his blood turning to ice in his veins. He forced his expression to remain neutral, even as panic clawed at his chest.

"Really?" he managed, proud of how steady his voice sounded. "James doesn't strike me as the type."

Michelle's eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "That's what makes it so juicy. Golden boy James, secret homosexual. I heard Vanessa's been asking around, trying to figure out who the mystery man is."

The coffee in Leo's stomach turned to acid. Three weeks had passed since that second night at James's apartment, three weeks of stolen moments and careful lies. They'd been so cautious—different restaurants, varying their routines, never staying at the same place twice. But apparently, it hadn't been enough.

"Vanessa's investigating James's personal life?" Leo asked, trying to sound mildly curious rather than terrified.

"You know how she is about her exes." Michelle shrugged. "Can't stand to see them move on, especially to something she can't compete with. Plus, there's talk that someone might be getting promoted to senior associate, and James is the front-runner. A scandal like this could change everything."

Leo nodded absently, his mind racing. The senior associate position—James had mentioned it in passing, but Leo hadn't realized how much was at stake. A promotion like that would set James up for partnership track, would validate everything he'd worked for since joining Meridian.

And now Vanessa was actively hunting for ammunition to destroy it.

The morning crawled by with agonizing slowness. Leo threw himself into spreadsheets and reconciliation reports, but his concentration was shattered. Every whispered conversation, every sideways glance felt loaded with meaning. When James passed his desk on the way to a client meeting, their eyes met for the briefest moment, and Leo saw his own fear reflected there.

They'd planned to meet for lunch, but Leo's phone buzzed with a text that made his stomach drop:

Rain check on lunch. Vanessa wants to "chat." Will call later.

Leo stared at the message until the words blurred. Vanessa had made her move, and they both knew this wasn't going to be a casual conversation about quarterly projections.

The afternoon passed in a haze of anxiety. Leo found himself watching Vanessa's office through the glass partition, noting when she and James disappeared inside, when the blinds were drawn for privacy. An hour passed. Then two. When James finally emerged, his face was pale, his usual confident posture replaced by something that looked dangerously close to defeat.

Leo's phone remained silent.

By five o'clock, the office had mostly emptied, leaving behind the skeleton crew of workaholics and the cleaning staff. Leo was still at his desk, pretending to work while actually watching James pack up his things with mechanical precision. Their eyes met across the office floor, and James gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Not here. Not now.

Leo waited another twenty minutes before gathering his things and heading for the elevator. The ride down felt interminable, his reflection in the polished steel doors showing a man on the edge of panic. Whatever Vanessa had said to James, it had been bad enough to rattle him completely.

His phone finally rang as he emerged onto the busy street, James's name flashing on the screen like a lifeline.

"Where are you?" James's voice was tight, controlled.

"Just left the office. What happened?"

"Not over the phone. Murphy's, back booth. Twenty minutes."

The line went dead, leaving Leo staring at his phone in the middle of the sidewalk crush. Murphy's Tavern—where this had all started, where they'd been nothing more than friends sharing drinks and failed pickup attempts. The irony wasn't lost on him.

Leo arrived first, claiming the same back booth where they'd sat three weeks ago, when the most complicated thing in his life had been a maxed-out credit card. The bar was nearly empty, too early for the after-work crowd, too late for the lunch drinkers. The bartender nodded at him with vague recognition but didn't approach.

James appeared fifteen minutes later, moving through the dim space like a man walking to his execution. He looked haggard, his perfectly styled hair disheveled, his shirt wrinkled from what looked like nervous hands. When he slid into the booth across from Leo, the exhaustion in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Talk to me," Leo said without preamble.

James signaled the bartender for whiskey—a double—before turning his attention back to Leo. "She knows."

The words hit Leo like a physical blow, even though he'd been expecting them. "How much?"

"Enough." James's laugh was bitter. "She's got photos, Leo. Of us leaving your building together. Of that coffee shop on Third Street. She's been having us followed for over a week."

Leo's blood turned to ice. "Photos of what, exactly?"

"Nothing explicit. But enough to raise questions. You touching my arm. Us sitting closer than friends would. Body language that tells a story."

The whiskey arrived, and James downed half of it in one swallow. Leo wanted to reach across the table, to offer comfort, but the paranoia was too fresh, too raw.

"What does she want?" Leo asked.

"What she's always wanted. Control." James's knuckles were white around his glass. "She offered me a deal. Back off from the senior associate promotion, and the photos disappear. Keep seeing you, and they get distributed to HR, to the partners, to anyone who might find them interesting."

The casual cruelty of it took Leo's breath away. "She can't prove anything from photographs."

"She doesn't have to prove anything. All she has to do is plant doubt. Create whispers. In a firm like Meridian, perception is reality." James finished his whiskey and immediately ordered another. "Gay rumors have destroyed careers over less."

Leo felt something cold and hard settle in his chest. "So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying maybe we need to cool things down. Take a step back until this blows over."

The words were carefully neutral, but Leo heard the subtext loud and clear. James was choosing his career over whatever they'd built together. And Leo couldn't even blame him for it.

"Cool things down," Leo repeated slowly. "That's one way to put it."

"Leo, don't make this harder than it already is."

"Harder for who?" Leo's voice was rising, drawing glances from the few other patrons. He forced himself to lower it. "You're the one with something to lose here. I'm just collateral damage."

James flinched. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Three weeks ago, you were terrified someone would find out you'd lowered yourself to sleep with average Leo Martinez. Now someone has found out, and you're ready to throw me away to protect your precious reputation."

"It's not like that—"

"Then what is it like?" Leo leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're doing exactly what I expected you to do from the beginning. Choosing the easy path."

James's face went pale. "You think this is easy for me?"

"I think you've already made your choice. You're just trying to make it sound noble."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with recrimination and hurt. James's second whiskey arrived, but he didn't touch it. Around them, Murphy's was beginning to fill with the early evening crowd, but their booth felt isolated, like a bubble of misery in the midst of casual revelry.

"I don't want to lose you," James said finally, his voice barely audible.

"But you're not willing to fight for me either."

James's hand moved across the table, stopping just short of Leo's fingers. "She's not going to stop, Leo. Vanessa doesn't make idle threats. If we keep seeing each other, she'll destroy both of us."

"So we let her win."

"We survive to fight another day."

Leo stared at James across the scarred wooden table, memorizing the planes of his face, the way the dim bar light caught in his blue eyes. Three weeks ago, he'd been nobody special—reliable, forgettable Leo, content to live in James's shadow. But somewhere between that first desperate kiss and this moment, he'd discovered something he'd never known he possessed: the willingness to fight for what mattered.

"You know what I realized today?" Leo said quietly. "I realized I'd rather be ruined for loving you than safe for never trying."

James's breath caught. "Leo—"

"But you're right. We do need to cool things down." Leo stood up, pulling on his jacket with careful deliberation. "Because I won't be anyone's dirty little secret, James. Not even yours."

"Where are you going?"

Leo looked down at him one more time, seeing the conflict written across his features, the war between want and fear that had defined their relationship from the beginning.

"I'm going to figure out how to fight back."

He walked away without looking back, pushing through the growing crowd toward the exit. Behind him, he could feel James's eyes burning into his back, could almost hear the words he wanted to say but couldn't. The cool October air hit his face like a slap, but it was nothing compared to the cold fury building in his chest.

Vanessa Chen thought she held all the cards, thought she could manipulate them with threats and innuendo. She was probably right about James—golden boy James, who had everything to lose and no experience fighting dirty.

But she'd underestimated Leo. Average, forgettable Leo, who had nothing left to lose and everything to fight for.

As he walked through the neon-lit streets toward home, Leo began to plan. Three weeks ago, he'd been content to be the wingman, the loyal friend, the one who faded into the background. But James had awakened something in him—not just desire, but a fierce protectiveness that refused to be intimidated by corporate politics and social pressure.

If Vanessa wanted a war, she'd have one. And she was about to learn that the most dangerous opponent was the one who had nothing left to lose.