“You kind of are,” Chase said, eyeing Brad warily. “What the hell is your problem?”
Brad’s face was red, either with drink or anger, I didn’t know. “My problem? My problem is that I’m being lectured by this fucking trannie—”
I’d heard it before. That word. More times than I cared to think about. Once it might have sliced me in two. And while I could admit it stung a little, it didn’t have the power over me it once did. I was a goddamn warrior, and Brad had made a fatal mistake.
I felt Jeremy tensing beside me, but before he could do something stupid like launch himself across the table, Adam slammed his hand down, causing his flatware to rattle and his drink to slosh onto the tablecloth. “Nope. Absolutely not. You dare use that word here? In my house? You apologize, and apologize now, or you get the fuck out of here and never come back.” He held up a hand as Stephen tried to interject, though he never looked away from Brad. “Make your choice, Brad.”
I thought Brad was going to get up and leave in a huff. I was surprised when he muttered out a halfhearted apology.
Jeremy didn’t seem to think it was good enough, and he started to rise from his chair. I reached over and put my hand on his thigh, squeezing tightly. He settled, and I left my hand where it was.
“Thank you, Brad,” I said calmly. “Brad Renner, is it? You’re in real estate.”
He blinked. “How did you—did Jeremy tell you that?”
I shook my head. “No. He didn’t say a word. I’ve seen your face plastered all over town. Billboards. Bus benches. You’re pretty successful. Kudos. I would hate to think what would happen if word got out just what kind of person you are. I mean, can you imagine what would happen if someone posted a review of you online and it came to light you were transphobic?” I sighed as I shook my head. “Gosh, that would be damaging, wouldn’t it? Especially if it got back to your employer or clients. I wonder if you could consider donating to a specific cause that would go a long way to keep that from ever happening.” I gasped. “Oh! I know. Like Phoenix House. That’s why we’re here, right?” I smiled at him magnanimously.
“Are you blackmailing me?” he asked, incredulous.
I laughed. “Brad. Brad, Brad, Brad. Of course not. Blackmailing implies I would financially benefit. Isn’t that right, counselor?”
“That’s right,” Stephen said, and even though I didn’t look at him, I could tell he was trying to keep a smile off his face.
I nodded. “So you see? It’s not about me. It’s about giving back to this community that you’re part of. Can you imagine the publicity you would get? Especially if you got your agency involved. Not only would it be a tax write-off, it would show that you are a kind and giving person employed by kind and giving people who care about the future of queer kids, no matter what their pronouns are.” I looked pointedly around the table. I didn’t miss how the others slunk farther down in their seats. “That goes for all of you. Think of it as an investment.” I grinned at Adam. “The steak isn’t dry. I was just giving you shit.”
He sniffed, his eyes sparkling. “Of course it’s not. Only the best, of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed. I clapped my hands. “This is fun. I’m having fun. I’ll make sure we have our accountant get in touch with all of you next week. Please keep in mind that while our operating budget isn’t high, the more you can give, the better off we’ll all be. Now isn’t the time to be cheap. ’Tis the season of giving, after all.”
“It’s July,” Chase said faintly.
I grinned at him, razor-sharp. “I know.”
“I know our firm was looking for a new charity to get involved in,” Stephen said slowly.
I winked at him. “How fortuitous. I mean, you’re probably getting well compensated from certain clients as it is. You probably just have stacks of bills lying around that we could take off your hands. Now, then. Thank you for hearing our pitch for Phoenix House. It was shorter than I expected, but I see you’re all men who prefer bluntness rather than platitudes. That’s enough business, don’t you think? I’m suddenly ravenous.”
Dinner was mostly silent after that.
It wasn’t until later that I realized I hadn’t moved my hand from Jeremy’s thigh. And his arm never left the back of my chair.
ADAM AND Stephen walked us to the door. The others were having drinks in the parlor, but I thought it was best if we made our escape while we still could, especially since Brad kept looking at me like I was the devil.
“Well, this has certainly been an evening to remember,” Stephen said dryly.
Now that my anger was ebbing, I was starting to feel guilty. I hated that I did, but it was still there. They didn’t deserve my guilt. “I didn’t mean—”
Adam shook his head. “You did. And it was the right thing to do. Sometimes it takes a sledgehammer to break through the layers of bullshit.”
I groaned as Jeremy laughed. “Oh, would you look at that. Sledgehammer. I wonder where we’ve heard that before?”
“Shut up,” I muttered as Adam and Stephen look confused. “You’re in so much trouble, you don’t even know.”
“I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes,” Stephen told him. “Corey is certainly… determined when he needs to be.”
“You have no idea,” Jeremy said.
Adam patted my shoulder. “I wasn’t lying when I said you’re welcome back anytime you want.”