Chapter 142 - A Night In Bed Of The Wrong Man

Andrzej woke up feeling dry in his throat and splitting in his head. The symptoms clearly indicated that he had recently had some intense fun. Funny, he thought, because he couldn't remember any fun. He purred as he shifted position. Is it his imagination, or was the light shining on him from a different side? Was he partying for so long? He opened his eyes with displeasure.

He blinked confused.

He jumped up, sitting up and cursing his headache.

Where the hell is he?

He was lying in the king's bed, in light brown, soft sheets. To his right was a wide window with a patternless floor-length curtain, behind which he could see a balcony door and blue sky. The walls were the shade of the sand of a tropical beach and in front of the bed was a huge TV and a set of powerful speakers. The interior was simply but tastefully decorated and devoid of any features of a woman's hand. Could it be a hotel suite?

Andrzej took a deep breath. He pushed the sheets back to stand up and immediately blushed.

Where's his clothes? Where are his briefs?

"Oh, I can see that you wake up" the last man that Andrzej expected to see entered the room - Marek Marczak. Upon seeing him, Nowicki immediately caught himself again. A handsome middle-aged man smiled at him with that arrogant smirk of his. He looked elegant as always, even wearing a dark chocolate-colored bathrobe. "Did you sleep well in my bed?"

"M ... Ma ..." stammered Andrzej, feeling the fear growing inside him. "In your bed?"

"Well, yeah."

Not good, very bad, the photographer thought as he fought the mounting panic. The night spent in Marek Marczak's bed could not bring anything good. No, if you knew the manager's reputation and his appetites, and at the same time heard an unexpected confession a few days earlier.

The worst thing was that Andrzej couldn't remember anything from last night. If he got so drunk that his movie was cut off, he might have done some ridiculous thing and ended up right here.

"Can you tell me what I'm doing here? Besides sleeping, of course," he asked suspiciously. He prayed to hear an answer that would not require him to collapse into the ground.

"You don't remember anything?" Marczak showed anxiety. "Really?"

Nowicki blinked his eyes. Memories began to come back to him. Especially one thing. The one that made him refuse to go home. He wandered aimlessly around the city until he finally stopped at some bar and ordered a drink. He drank to forget. To get rid of this pain. But the memories came back.

"I'm sorry, really," he heard. There was sincere sympathy in Marczak's voice. "Today their photos are in all journals. Even the more serious ones."

Andrzej lowered his head.

Pictures huh? When he saw the two together, he did not think that someone might photograph them, that it would penetrate the press, creating a new sensation. He only thought about one thing, and it hurt so much that he couldn't even think rationally, let alone look Dominik in the eye. He couldn't do it, not then, so he started wandering around and finally ended up in some restaurant or bar. He ordered a drink. Then another. Then there was probably another ...

He had no idea how he ended up in the bed of a famous and influential manager, but he was sure of one thing - that was the last person he wanted to share the pain of being betrayed with.

Not that he hated or despised Marczak. Once, yes, it was. Right at the beginning of their relationship. But then things started to change, and although they were hard to call friends, they weren't enemies anymore. The relationship between them was more complicated. Andrzej's current partner, the handsome actor Dominik Śliwiński, was Marek Marczak's partner for seven years. Marek blamed Nowicki for the break-up of his relationship with Dominik and for a long time he could not accept the decision of his former lover, so showing him how Andrzej was touched by Śliwiński's betrayal deepened his pain even more.

"Sorry to bother you," he said to him. "I don't remember much, which means I must have been really drunk."

"No problem, although to tell you the truth the situation surprised me. Are you okay?"

"I have a nice hangover."

"That's not what I'm asking."

Andrzej unscrewed his head. Did Marczak really have to be the first person to ask him about it?

"Don't be offended, but I'd rather not talk about it. What time is it? I have to go to work."

"A quarter to nine."

"What?!" Andrzej suddenly perked up. "Shit, I'll be late! Could you turn around? I want to get dressed."

"You think I might see something I haven't seen?"

Nowicki felt that he was boiling inside.

"Marczak…" he growled.

"All right," the man turned to the other side. "You should call him. Or at least write. He's an idiot, but he's worried about you. Your phone was ringing every few minutes. He probably thinks something happened to you. Who knows if he has started calling hospitals."

Marczak was right. Yesterday, Andrzej was too moved by what he saw from the window of a passing tram to think what reaction in Śliwiński would be caused by the fact that he had not returned home for the night without warning.

Just what kind of reaction could he cause? Anxiety? Fear? How about relieved to spend more time with Scarlett?

Nowicki heard the sound of a melody coming from nearby - not his own phone. On the bedside table, Marczak's phone was visible.

"Will you let me pick it up?" The manager asked him, barely twisting his head in his direction.

"Please" Andrzej put on a T-shirt.

The manager walked the distance with an elegant step. He picked up the mobile.

"It's Dominik. What should I tell him if he asks for you?"

"Whatever do you want."

"Even the truth?"

Nowicki felt something unpleasant and slimy inside.

What was the truth? What happened that night? He did not remember.

"Yes."

Marczak answered immediately. He hadn't bothered to leave, or even walk a decent distance. Instead, he stared at Andrzej as if he wanted to follow his every reaction, every slightest change in the expression on his face.

"Good morning, Dominik, how are you?" He listened to the voice on the other side for a moment. "Andrzej? Andrzej is safe and sound. You don't have to worry about that ... You really don't know? Dominik, you can't even be so naive. Photo, Dominik, photo… How is it each photo? The one where, in the rain, on the street, you kiss a charming American woman ... I think you shouldn't explain yourself to me ... Okay, I'll tell him in a moment."

He ended the connection and stared at Andrzej, sitting motionless. Nowicki's light brown eyes looked at him calmly, but Marek could see the pain in them. The little devil in Marczak's heart was happy about it, but it was really a tiny part of him. Since he got to know the photographer better some time ago, he liked him more than he expected, and although the chance to break his relationship with Dominik was encouraging, Andrzej's suffering became his own pain.

"I am to tell you it was a misunderstanding. Dominik asks you to come back. He'll explain everything to you."

"Thanks."

Marek pursed his lips. He didn't want to say it because for the first time in Dominik's affair with Andrzej there were clouds that he could use to his advantage, but for some reason his mouth opened by itself.

"I think this is a misunderstanding. Dominik ... he would never kiss a woman in the middle of the street."

"Why are you telling me this? What if it makes us come to terms with it? You will lose the chance to get him back."

"It doesn't really matter. I'm right?"

"I really have to go," Andrzej said grimly.

"Do you have time for a coffee? Breakfast?"

"No. But thank you. For everything."

"We didn't sleep together, me and you. I admit I took your clothes off, but nothing else. I swear it."

Nowicki opened his mouth to say something. He closed them. He took a deep breath and only then was he able to speak.

"Thank you. I don't know why, but I believe you."

Now Marek opened and closed his mouth. He just smiled sadly.

"I won't bother you anymore," he said. "If you want to use the bathroom, it's on the left."

Andrzej nodded.

Marek left. The photographer watched him go and smiled very sadly.

It was strange, unusual, but he really believed Marczak that nothing had happened between them. He already knew the manager and his lies well enough to know when he was telling the truth, and now he knew it was one of those few moments.

The only question was whether Andrzej was not his type or whether Marczak's confession from a few days ago was in line with his feelings, so he did not want to do anything that would hurt the photographer?