A few hours later, after touring the extensive home and discussing all of the renovations that were under way, they moved to the kitchen to begin preparing for dinner. One of Matt’s favorite, and most bewildering, things about Hillary’s new lifestyle was that, despite the enormous income that Jake earned working for his brother, she took pride in running their household without the help of domestic employees. This surprised him, but elegant Hillary was just as likely to be found scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees with a bandana tied around her hair, as at a red carpet charity event draped in a designer gown and jewels. Matt knew that he would never even consider such a thing, but he liked the idea that his friend refused to allow wealth to dictate which tasks were considered too menial to perform.
She might have been at home with domestic tasks, but she seemed quite happy to share the duties. Matt found himself cheerfully press-ganged into helping with the dinner, another well established and much-missed aspect of their friendship. He was elbow deep in a bowl of lettuce when he heard the front door open and a series of voices enter into the hallway.
“We’ll be ready in a minute.” Hillary shouted out into the hallway, “Jake, if you could serve the drinks in the dining room? We are almost finished in here.”
“Red wine?” Jake Matherson popped his head around the corner and kissed his nodding wife on the forehead. “Matt, what would you like?” he asked.
“Red would be perfect. Thank you.” Matt looked over his shoulder in time to see Drew Matherson pass in the doorway behind his brother. At the sound of Matt's name, his head had jerked up. He looked straight at Matt; a piercing gaze. Matt looked resolutely back into the salad bowl and focused his attention on adding the final toppings. His heart was beating fast, and he told himself not to let that pompous, wealthy, arrogant, selfish… well, really he could spend all day insulting him. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was perfectly capable of sharing a group dinner with Drew Matherson without the risk of nuclear meltdown.
He heard the group move into the dining room and turned to see Hillary staring at him with guilt written all over her face.
“OK. So, I know you guys kind of hate each other…” Hillary began. “But Jake invited his family to dinner and I couldn’t very well tell him to leave out his brother. I mean, come on. That would be pretty low.”
Matt laughed at his friend’s obvious discomfort. “It’s fine. We are all adults here.” Matt provided. He was glad that he had been able to control his initial reaction so quickly.
“Right! We are all adults here.” She repeated Matt’s words. “We can keep that in mind no matter what brings us together.” Hillary clapped her hands with a finality and enthusiasm that frightened Matt.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“Oh, don’t you worry about it. Just remember that you are both adults.” Matt did not like the change in terminology. Before he was able to repeat the question, or ask another one, Hillary grabbed a dish and marched toward the dining room. Matt followed her with the salad, an eerie sense of foreboding wrenching at his stomach.
The primary portion of the meal went by without a hitch. Jake’s parents sat at either end of the table, while the newlyweds shared one side and Matt and Drew the other. At first Matt thought that this arrangement was bound to be awkward but he soon found that having Drew seated to his left allowed him to glance at, and speak with, all other members of the dinner party without the risk of making eye contact with his nemesis. Overall, Matt was pleased with the balance that they found between avoiding each other and brief acknowledgements that eliminated any appearance of rude intention.
As Hillary began distributing dessert, Matt was just about to congratulate himself for a successful encounter when Mrs. Matherson turned to Drew with a very pointed look.
“Honey, your father and I would like to discuss that article.” She began.
Drew froze with a fork full of cobbler halfway to his mouth. His eyes were trained on the bowl in front of him. Matt allowed himself a quick glance that confirmed his attempt at composure.
Drew set down the uneaten dessert and turned slowly toward his mother, who had placed her hand gently on her forearm. The gesture was a dual-edged blade: the appearance of comfort and the directive to remain seated for the discussion.
“I thought that we had already discussed the article.” Drew placed his tongue in his cheek; a gesture that Matt remembered from the previous times when Drew would pick arguments with him, and which now displayed his discomfort. He busied himself with his own dessert, trying to ignore the whole situation. Somehow, it felt like an intrusion of privacy to be present for this conversation. Matt paused at that, surprised at the depth of his own concern. He felt uncomfortable for Drew—a feeling that surprised him— but did not want to cause a scene by leaving the table.
Matt knew exactly to which article Mrs. Matherson was referring. Two weeks ago an interview had been released by one of Drew’s exes. The CEO of the multi-billion dollar real estate development corporation was extremely tight lipped about his life. In fact, he had never once granted an interview, nor made a personal statement, no matter who offered to place him in the limelight. As one of the most desired and eligible bachelors in the world, Drew Matherson was a veritable anomaly. Little was known about him, other than his extreme success in expanding his father’s business and a drool-worthy physique, resulting in intense speculation about the man behind Matherson International Development. While his name had been connected in the gossip-mill with various people, there was no confirmation of any of it. And, while he was certainly known to have been involved with women, there were enough pictures of him with good-looking men to suggest he had wide-ranging interests.
The article in question clearly appeared to Matt to have been biased by the subject's scorned love. However, he found that he had taken a rather-perverse delight in seeing Matherson skewered by the mass public, and he doubted that the slanderous accusations had fallen far from the truth. Drew certainly seemed like a callous, selfish man, and he probably deserved it.
Matt refocused on the conversation to hear Jake recounting a report from their PR analyst, stating that the reputation of the company was being adversely affected by the interview.
“We can ride it out.” Drew was arguing. “It won’t take long for people to forget the article, and the quality of our work and designs far outweigh any false claims that Melina can make.”
“It does matter if she is presenting the face of our company as a power-hungry, misogynist who does nothing but ruin the communities in which he builds.” Jake replied.
“I’m a workaholic, I can’t deny that,” Drew was speaking very calmly for someone whose entire, pristine reputation had been tarnished in a single day. “But never have I worked for power and you know we’ve improved every community that we’ve touched. We’ve never destroyed anything. A real reporter would have checked the facts before publishing Melina’s lies, including the fact that we fully support all of our female employees.”
Jake slammed his hand on the table, causing Matt to jump. “Damn it, Drew. Anyone who knows you knows how off base those claims are. But it doesn’t matter because you never speak out. Melina can spin whatever tales she wants because there is no proof to go against it.”
“There is plenty of proof out there to be found.” Drew repeated.
“Nobody is going to search for it, unless you show them. Unless you make them see that she is a liar. It has been over two weeks and not a single journalist has made any effort past calling you for a statement. They don’t want to prove her wrong. It’s more fun for the story if you are suddenly a ‘Bad Boy’”. Hillary placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder, standing up to address the group. Matt continued to stir his food, wishing that he could have slipped quietly upstairs without anyone noticing. It was awkward to be in the middle of a family dispute, for certain; but why did he feel so uncomfortable? He could feel a strange sympathy for Drew starting to stir in his heart, and it
surprised him. They should leave the man alone, he thought, or they should discuss this when only family are present. He looked down at his plate, uncomfortable.
“I have a solution.” Hillary began. Her cautious tone brought Matt’s eyes up to meet those of his friend. Hillary was watching him carefully and Matt felt a sudden burst of panic. He was fairly certain that he knew where his friend was heading, and he did not like it one bit.
Matt shook his head slowly and tried to communicate his desperate disapproval to Hillary. Instead, his friend squared her shoulders and soldiered on.
“Drew will release an exclusive interview. With it being his first ever, everyone will be sure to read it.” She began.
“I don’t do interviews.” Drew interrupted.
“You do now.” Jake informed. “The board took a vote and unanimously decided in favor of it.”
“I’m on the board!” Drew countered. “I vote against it.”
“I counter your vote, Son.” Their father finally spoke, his gray hair belying the strength that still shone in his vibrant blue eyes. “I think I still have a say in how you run my company and I say that you need to fix this.”
“Yes, Sir.” Drew spoke softly, returning his gaze to his fork. Matt was shocked with how easily he had acquiesced to his father. He would have expected Drew Matherson to retain the same my-way-or-the-highway attitude that extended into every portion of his life.
“Excellent. Now, Mr. Cullam,” Mr. Matherson turned to grasp Matt’s hand. Matt felt certain that there could be nothing but complete shock written across his face. His eyes were wide, and he almost had to remind himself to exhale. “Would you be so kind as to conduct an interview, do proper research, and write whatever article you feel truly represents my son and this company?”
Matt’s jaw dropped. How could he say no to this kind old man? How could he abandon his friend’s new family in their time of need? Yet, how could he write a redeeming story about a man he hates? Matt refused to lie in his journalism. Truth was not something he was willing to sacrifice for a pay check.
“He can’t write about me.” Drew stated. “Matt’s not exactly a fan of mine.”
Matt shifted his eyes to the man for a moment. Well, he's not stupid, he thought. Before he could agree with this recent statement, Hillary interjected.
“We are all adults here. Matt is excellent at putting his emotions aside to find the truth.” Hillary smiled with the knowledge that Matt recognized her reference to their earlier conversation.
“I…” Matt stammered. “I don’t think…” He was torn between absolute horror and realizing that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. This article would be distributed worldwide, further than any of his writing thus far.
Mr. Matherson smiled at him, placid and reassuring.
“Take some time to think about it. Hillary has already cleared it with your editor who, we must inform you, is very excited about the proposition.”
Matt risked a surreptitious glance at Drew, who looked severe as he poked at his dish. Matt looked instead at the four other faces, all smiling now, as if he was the perfect solution to all of their problems.
Matt pushed himself up from his seat, finally drawing Drew’s anxious gaze. All of his mind was pushing him to leave; to get out of the situation. It was suddenly all too much: the pressure, the discomfort, and his dislike for Drew, mixed with these sudden feelings of compassion and...something else.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he tried to keep his voice even. “I need to call my editor. Thank you for dinner.” Matt exited the dining room acutely aware of the five pairs of eyes that followed him. When he reached the bottom of the staircase, he sprinted up the two flights to his room.
Thirty minutes later Matt hung up his cell phone. He had a headache, which had been growing all day and now was raging through his temples, pounding at the tender muscle there. He sighed, and lay back on the plush duvet, rubbing his forehead. His editor had demanded that he accept the article. Jackson Reeves was retiring in the fall and Matt had applied for his position. As editor he could work from anywhere, allowing Matt the freedom to travel, following whatever story piqued his interest at the time. Jackson had informed Matt that this article would effectively seal his position as forerunner over all other applicants. How could he refuse it now? He sighed. But how could he interview this man? His feelings on the subject were...complex.
He thought he hated Drew Matherson, sincerely. But now, since meeting him again, his feelings had become deeper, more confused. If he thought of him even a moment, he could feel his throat constrict and his body tingle. What was it? Loathing? Awkwardness? Longing? This last he could barely admit to himself, but the more he thought about it, the more he had to note that, of all feelings, that was the closest. He could not be in the same room as that man without feeling his throat close up and his heart beat faster.
There was a soft knock at the door that Matt ignored by telling himself that it had come from further down the hall. His head was aching and his mind was confused. Whoever it was, he did not want disturbance right now. When the tapping at the door occurred again he raised himself, with a sigh, to answer its call.
He opened the door to find Drew Matherson leaning seductively against the frame. No, Matt corrected himself, shaking his head to clear his mind, he was just leaning against the frame. Drew was not attempting to be seductive. In fact, he looked rather uncomfortable. It had been Matt’s own approval of his appearance, he admitted, that had determined the act as seductive. Matt shook his head. Could he get any more confused? He thought to himself. He very much hoped the answer to that question was no.
“Can we talk?” Drew gestured into the room. Matt stepped back and allowed him to pass, leaving the door a few inches ajar in a way that he hoped would encourage him to leave quickly. Feelings aside, the main thing he felt right now was disconcerted; and he would give a great deal for this man to simply walk back through the door and out of his room.
Drew seated himself on the pale blue wingback chair that sat beside the curtained window. He gestured for Matt to join him on the chaise opposite. Matt sat stiffly and waited for an explanation.
Drew took a deep breath and leaned his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. Matt felt uncomfortable with this side of Drew. He was not sure how to react to him behaving like a—well, a normal human being. He had always seemed overconfident and larger than life. Tonight, he seemed tired.
“Matt, I came up here to talk to you about the article.” Drew pressed his lips together in a firm, hard line, tensely. “Listen, I know this is probably the last thing that you want to do. I know that I’ve teased you a lot and that I have a way of getting under your skin.”
More than one, Matt thought.
“My family is going to make sure that this article is written, whether I like it or not.” Drew stood and moved to stare out at the lake through the gap in the curtains. Matt remained quiet as he watched him arrange his thoughts. Finally, he turned toward him again, crossed the space between them and sat next to him on the chaise. “I’d really appreciate it if you would be the one to write the article.”
Their knees were brushing. Matt felt his breath catch in his throat. Now, more than ever, he felt confused; so much so that he was not even sure he understood Drew's question. Of course he would write it, his editor had already told him that he did not have much of a choice. Why would Drew take it upon himself to help convince him?
“The truth is, I’ve read your work and I respect your skill. If you write this article, whether it turns out good or bad for me, at least I can be confident that you will be honest.” Drew lifted his chin so that Matt was forced to look at him. The shock of the sudden contact made Matt's breath catch in his throat, almost choking. “I would rather it be written by you than any other journalist. I trust you to write it.”
Matt couldn’t speak. If he had been able to, he didn’t know what he would say, but Drew’s fingertips still brushed his skin and were s
ending tingling sensations throughout his body. He looked down to where Drew's hand touched him, his skin so pale against his own. He swallowed.
“Will you?” Opposite him, Drew's blue eyes searched Matt's face. Matt did not want to think about what Drew might see there. He almost-hoped Matt would see his expression as hesitation, but a part of him warned that he was observant enough to glimpse the desire that raged beneath the surface.
“My editor has already instructed me to take the assignment.” He swallowed. Please stop touching me, he repeated over and over in his mind. Drew's sudden impulsive nearness was distracting him. And the most distracting, confusing part for Matt was that he found he was enjoying it far too much.
“You don’t need to feel pressured to help me.” Drew withdrew his hand. Matt surprised himself with the regret he felt at its sudden absence. Drew continued speaking. “No one can pressure you to do this. Not the editor or Hillary, or even me.”
“I don’t feel pressured.” Matt admitted. “I’m up for a pretty big promotion and, to be perfectly honest, this could help me out as well.”
“Good.” Drew gave a half smile that caused Matt to stare. When he shifted as if to leave their thighs brushed against each other once again, causing heat to rush straight to the center of Matt’s body.
Drew turned back with an abrupt motion.
“Can I…” he began, “Never mind.”
He started to rise but Matt stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“What?” he asked, unsure why he had stopped him from leaving. Drew sank back down beside him.
“There is something that I’ve been wondering about since the wedding and I know it is completely inappropriate…”
Matt braced himself. “Go ahead.” He spoke dryly, in a tone that dared Drew to ask.
Celestial Seductions: The Complete Series: An MM Gay Paranormal Mpreg Romance Collection Page 30
