Duty and Devotion by Tere Michaels Page A

is.”
    “Exaggeration.” Jim sighed as he stared out the window. “He's not entirely out, and he's uncomfortable. You should be more tolerant.”
    “Whatever. It bothered your friend Matt.”
    “I know. I know.”
    “That sucks.”
    Griffin's annoyance segued into a quiet sadness. Jim reached down to squeeze his hand.
    “I feel bad for both of them,” he said finally.
    “Me too.”
    “You should call Matt tomorrow and see how he is.”
    “I will.”
    “And you should—listen, I'm just throwing this out there, but maybe if Evan needs someone to talk to…”
    “I thought you correctly deduced he hated me?”
    “Okay, so maybe you're not the ideal person for him to speak to—there's always me.”
    Jim patted Griffin's hand. “I love you, so much, but, uh—you were at the restaurant a few minutes ago, right?”
    “It was tense. So what? I've lived in Hollywood for ten years. I can kiss your ass one day and string it up a flagpole the next day. It's an art form.”
    “You keep talking about my ass—and I have to sit through a whole stupid play. Stop teasing.”
    Griffin elbowed him. “Tell Matt to tell Evan if he wants to talk…”
    “Right, Dr. Phil. I'll mention it.”
    “Thank you. I'm just saying—make the offer.”
    “You're a very nice man.”
    “Thank you.”
    Jim leaned over and kissed Griffin on the cheek.
    Chapter Eleven
    “Griffin!”
    Jim turned his head as the feminine voice reached his ears. Griffin was chatting it up with the set designer whom he apparently knew from a shoot—honestly Jim wasn't paying attention. He was still trying to estimate the distance from their location in the middle of the lobby to the bar and how fast he could get there and back.
    He gave his boyfriend a poke in the side as he gestured over to where Daisy was fighting through the crowd.
    Sans arty mermaid costume, Daisy looked like herself—mostly. Jim noticed most of her red hair was gone, styled into a little pixie cut that made her look about half her age and height in one fell swoop. She seemed so tiny as she worked her way through the well-wishers and hangers-on, he fought the urge to sweep through and clear a path.
    “Griffin, Jim, hi,” she said breathlessly, finally making it into their little circle. “I'm so glad you're here.”
    For a split second, he worried what Griffin's reaction would be—after all, their everyday contact had been limited for the past few months to brief, awkward phone calls. But then Griffin was moving past him to throw his arms around his childhood best friend, lifting her off the floor with an audible squeak.
    “Don't break her. I didn't get enough cash at the ATM to pay for a movie star,” Jim said as Griffin whacked a few people in the shins as he gave her a whirl.
    Daisy giggled nervously as Griffin set her down.
    “So you're glad to see me,” she said, a little desperately, and Jim gave another glance toward the bar. Three drinks, he could carry three.
    “Yeah.” Griffin sniffled as he smiled at her.
    Jim decided to wait on the bar, and let his boyfriend lean against him, doing the quiet physical reassurance thing and trying not to glower at the woman who had betrayed her friendship with Griffin.
    She clearly didn't expect an affirmative answer from Jim, but she gave him a sidelong peek. He cleared his throat and tried to relax his facial muscles.
    “The play was, uh—good. I didn't fall asleep,” he offered. Daisy smiled and bit her lip.
    “I think that's high praise.” Griffin sighed. He was rubbing Daisy's arm, and they both seemed on the verge of weepy hugs.
    “It is,” Jim said.
    Daisy gave a watery laugh. “I really appreciate you both coming, really. I know I can't apologize enough for what I did…”
    “Water under the bridge,” Griffin said.
    “But not entirely forgotten.” The words slipped out, and Jim endured the whip-quick look from Griffin. “Forgiven, though. You did your best to fix things, and I appreciate that. You didn't let Ed