On the fourth week in, Rowan drove to their next location the full way. He told Sage to sleep, so the doctor did, and he accidentally slept the whole way there. By the time Rowan was gently shaking him awake, they were already at the next inn. Sage had managed to skip the torture of driving and the feeling of being sore for so long after it. Still, he worried about how Rowan was faring with taking all the hits. He felt bad.
Right when he arrived at the inn, Sage unpacked his things quickly before heading out for the hospital. The medical staff in the city there were incredibly overwhelmed. Sage had to immediately get to work. A few of the doctors and nurses had been sick by an illness spreading in the city, so not only were they understaffed from medical professionals being sick themselves, but there was a surge of people with the same sickness. Sage tugged a mask over his face and went to help all he could. Most of it was diagnosing small colds and sicknesses, so while it was easy, it was extremely tiring and tedious. After three weeks of working a dozen or so hours less a week than he normally was used to, he found that he was drained of energy quicker than before. By the time he arrived back at the inn, he passed out for the rest of the night.
The following morning, Sage let out a soft groan as he sat up. In the inn room, the lights were shut off in the main area, but a gentle glow emitted from the cracks of the bathroom door. From beyond it Sage could hear a muffled voice speaking on the other side. Curious, he slipped off the bed and headed over. His palm dug into his eye as he quietly tip-toed over to the door. He could hear Rowan speaking on the other side. At first he had thought Rowan was talking to his ex-wife again, but upon listening it was clearly someone else.
"No, I told you I wasn't comfortable handling business with him… Because he's strange… …No, I didn't bring Sage for a meat shield. I won't use him like that. I don't see why you had to include him on this list… So, what if I was already heading out here? Send someone else!.. …'Too late' whatever… …No. I'll handle this myself." and Rowan let out a frustrated sound and tossed his phone down on the bathroom counter.
Taking a deep breath, Sage gently pushed on the bathroom door to open it. He saw Rowan with his hands down on the counter, head hanging low, and—oh, he had nothing but a towel on his hips. Hearing the door open, Rowan turned his head to look, his damp, light brown hair moving with him. It felt like a movie, his soft and surprised look, gentle and handsome.
He swallowed, his temple bobbing, and asked, "How much of that did you hear?"
"Depends how long the conversation was before I started listening," Sage said honestly. "Could have been all of it, could have been half, could have been practically none." He looked at the phone then back to Rowan and asked, "What's wrong?"
Rowan hesitated. His lips pushed together. Sage thought about the other night when he had admitted to Liwayway that he found Rowan to be attractive but he was not attracted to him. Next in his mind were the comments made by the group of elderly women who were interested in asking about Rowan and caused Sage's thoughts to run wild. Sage quietly cleared his throat. While it had been to shut his mind up, his expression to Rowan gave it a different meaning: "Speak up."
"I, uh," Rowan stammered and let out an awkward laugh, "it's a little embarrassing."
Sage offered him his attention with silence as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, waiting for him to talk. Seeing him wait, Rowan sighed.
"I've had at least six other meetings with this specific client before. He asks for advice surrounding strategies in social media."
"Okay?"
"Every time I see him, he flirts with me."
At first, Sage saw nothing wrong with it. He blinked and said, "You're a grown man and you're afraid of a little flirting?"
Rowan looked distraught. "It's more than flirting."
"So, you're afraid."
"Kind of," Rowan said honestly. "But less afraid, more like I don't want to waste my time being swindled." He pouted and crossed his arms, his thick brows knitting inward. "I take pride in my work. For my services to be requested and paid for just for me to be flirted with feels like mockery."
"Okay, I get it," Sage said. "So, you need me to pose as your husband so he doesn't get near you. What's the big deal?" he asked. "And don't say you didn't bring me for that reason," he quickly added.
"I didn't."
"Yes, you did," Sage said confidently.
"No, I didn't."
"Rowan, you brought me with you for the sole purpose of using me as your husband to avoid talking about the truth," Sage argued. He had wanted to specify what the truth since he was trying to make a point through Rowan's thick skull, but considering how many times Rowan called his ex-wife, Sage tiptoed with his words instead. "And don't try to fight me because you did bring me for that reason. Before these last three weeks, we didn't even know each other. No matter what you say, I was brought along to be used."
Rowan frowned. "I've grown fond of you these last few weeks that using you feels wrong. Haven't you grown fond of me?"
"Quit messing around," Sage scolded. "I'm being serious."
"I'm being serious too," Rowan said. He took a step forward, his voice dipping to a lower tone. It was no longer light and flirty; he really was serious.
"I didn't bring you to act as my saving grace, Sage," Rowan said. The genuine side from Rowan was a completely new sight for Sage. He never accompanied Rowan when the other spoke of business, only flattery and friendly conversation. The serious side of him was definitely something. "Yes, I brought you because I needed someone to be my plus one and pose as my partner, but I also brought you because you wanted to take advantage of free travel for your work."
"And I've been doing my work," Sage said with a nod. "So, I should do my half and play the part. Now, when do we leave?"
The next day, Rowan had a lunch meeting with the client. His name was Darren Rudo, and he owned a photography company. Businesses that included face imagery and models and such were incredibly involved in social media. There was no wonder they needed help with getting ideas on how to boost their platform, however, Rudo's request for help was too frequent and too much, especially for a young, smart man who should have learned the routes swiftly the first time. Even Sage, someone who knew nothing of business, could see that Devon requesting Rowan's services was suspicious as it was excessive.
Some clients had a few meetings with Rowan. Once to meet him and learn, and sometimes a second time to do a check-up and update report. However, after two meetings, Rowan typically never saw them again unless they ran into different problems. When it came to Rudo, he had seen him six other times.
The first two times, Rowan had thought the other's behavior was a little strange, but when the third time rolled around, he got even more suspicious. Then the fourth, Rowan knew something different was going on. The following two times, Rowan felt like he was already in the guy's contacts to have on call. So, he refused to help the guy anymore, but his company had added Darren Rudo to the twelve-client schedule without thinking much of it. They assumed Rowan had been overreacting.
Sage, however, had faith in him. Rowan did not seem like the guy to overreact, especially when it came to his work. To overreact as a joke would be a waste of Rowan's professional time, and it would make it appear as if he did not take his job seriously. Even though the doctor only knew him for going on four weeks, he still could not see Rowan doing it.
Sage told him he would help him out.
"Oh, wow."
"What?"
"You're," Rowan shook his head. "Nothing. You look really nice."
Sage looked down at his outfit. It was not that much different from the other two times he dressed up, but he figured with the situation, he could switch stuff up a bit. The shirt he wore had a low cut v-neck of a gorgeous, silky white. He slipped on a thin jacket over top. A simple pair of black slacks. The makeup got easier to wear too, and he got better at it. A sharp liner that he admittedly overdid, and a smokey look underneath it.
"What, are you saying I looked bad the other two times?"
"No," Rowan quickly said. "No, I thought you looked—how do I put this? Uh." He started panicking a little. Panicking! Sage turned his head and stifled his laugh. "You look good. Great, even. Not in, like, a weird way or anything. Like, overall. As a person. You looked attractive. Appealing. Androgynously good."
"I get it," Sage said. "Don't strain yourself. Let's go."
Rowan gained some random confidence and asked, "What about me?"
Sage paused at the door and looked the other man up and down. He wore the same outfit he had worn previously. They nearly matched. Both wore black slacks and a black jacket with a white top, but Rowan had a button up, and Sage had a designer shirt. He had already internally thought Rowan was attractive, but he would never tell that to his face.
So, he said, "Alright. A solid six. Maybe a peek into a seven, but an eight is most certainly pushing it."
Rowan frowned. "Really?" he asked with a sad tone. Sage did not answer him though. He ushered him out of the door.