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Bastien led Albin by the hand as he would a child. He took him to a small room on the main floor under the staircase. He left Albin standing in the doorway and went to switch on the small lamp on a stand. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and turned to face Albin. He favored the young man with a dazzling smile. “Here we are.”
Albin looked around tentatively. He took in the teal, white, yellow, and black peacock patterned wallpaper. There was a sturdy, if a bit battered, dark wooden stand. A faded blue and white bedspread covered the twin bed. One end of his mouth quirked up. “The peacock’s your favorite bird.”
Bastien laughed and gestured to his own dressing gown. “How did you guess?”
Albin flushed. He shrugged and looked away.
Bastien waved him closer. “Don’t just stand there, dear. Come in. Come in. This is going to be your room.”
Albin stood his ground. “Are you sure?”
Bastien rolled his eyes but his voice held nothing but amusement. “Of course.”
Albin peeked at Bastien. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Can I redecorate?”
Bastien sighed dramatically. He clutched a hand over his heart and staggered back to sit on the bed. “You wound me. I have impeccable taste.”
“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” Albin responded quickly.
Bastien gave a mock frustrated look. “Do you have any other clothes?”
Albin rubbed his hands together and licked his dry lips. “No.”
Bastien frowned. He held his hand out to Albin. “Come here,” he commanded softly.
Albin did as he was told. He took the offered hand and sank down onto the side of the bed next to Bastien. He offered a nervous laugh. “I’ve been living light.”
Bastien lightly and playfully poked Albin in the ribs with his free hand. “And eating light.”
“How do you think I keep my wasp waist?” Albin teased but it was half-hearted.
“How long have you been living like this?”
Albin ducked his head. “Does it matter?” he muttered.
Bastien squeezed Albin’s hand. “Not if you don’t want to tell me.”
Albin shook his head. He grunted softly. “I’m sorry. I just…” his voice trailed off in frustration.
Bastien squeezed again, harder, until Albin met his eyes for a brief moment. “It’s all right.”
“No, you’ve been nothing but kind and…”
Bastien let go of Albin’s hand to put an arm around his shoulders. He pulled Albin to his side and cradled Albin’s head against his shoulder. “It’s all right,” he repeated, softly but firmly.
Albin hesitated for a split second before he let out a harsh sob and wrapped his arms around Bastien’s waist. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Bastien rocked Albin gently. “Tell me. How did you come to our Renato’s notice?”
Albin sniffed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He saved me from the wrath of a very dissatisfied customer.”
Bastien sighed sadly. He tightened his grip to keep Albin from pulling away. “Ah.”
“I wasn’t sure if I could do it, but I need money,” Albin mumbled, his voice low and small. “I have to eat.”
Bastien kissed the top of Albin’s head. “That will no longer be necessary.”
“Why? Why do you care?”
Bastien still refused to let Albin pull away. “Why shouldn’t I care?”
“I…I…” Albin stuttered.
Bastien chuckled. He rubbed Albin’s back. “I’ve never seen a display of Renato’s temper. He can be like Theron, keeping it under tight control.”
“It was so quiet, like the eye of a storm,” Albin whispered in awe.
Bastien felt Albin begin to relax. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“It didn’t feel hopeless after I heard his voice.”
Bastien smiled to himself. He gave Albin one last squeeze and stood. “It’s time for both of us to get some sleep. You can sleep in those clothes tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll get you cleaned up and go shopping.”
Albin’s eyes lit up but he protested lamely, “But I haven’t done any work for you yet.”
Bastien straightened up to his full height. “I can’t have my personal secretary looking like a refugee,” he said in offended dignity.
Albin laughed despite himself. “I guess not.”
Bastien grinned. “Good night.”
Albin waited until Bastien turned his back. “Just one last thing.”
Bastien half turned. He arched an eyebrow. “Yes?”
Albin didn’t meet Bastien’s eyes. He plucked at the bedspread. “Who’s Matteo?”
A brief flash of disgust passed over Bastien’s face. He wiped it off with a smile just in time for Albin to peek at his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. “A friend of Renato’s. You’ll find out all about him.”