Guys on the Bottom - Guys Book Three

by Darien Cox

  A few days later he came in and had drinks with two very handsome men and an attractive woman I didn’t know, but he remained at one of the cocktail tables, and left without saying hello. I didn’t even get a wave that time, and was starting to think either he’d forgotten about our conversation, or had decided I was too weird and surly, and vacated his plans for me.

  The only problem with that deduction was that I still had his credit card, and he’d not yet asked for it back. Maybe Duncan Stengel was so wealthy he didn’t care if some poor loser like me ran off with his card.

  I realized I’d become a bit over-focused on Corey’s stupid uncle and his stupid idea for vegetarian tapas. And my own stupid enthusiasm for getting myself excited about it. How dull had my life become that I’d made this the highlight of my thoughts for two straight weeks? Sarah was probably right, I should start dating again. But thinking about dating made me irritable, because I felt no enthusiasm for it. No passion. I spent my work life surrounded by attractive men in tight-fitting costumes, so if something inside me was going to stir, it likely would have done so at some point since starting at Club Mythic. I’d even been asked out on a date by a muscular minotaur called Angus, who was clearly handsome beneath his makeup and bull horns, but I’d declined, wasn’t feeling it.

  After another week without spotting Duncan at all, he showed up late on a Saturday night while I was busy tending bar. It was nearing the end of my shift, so I didn’t expect it, was taken completely by surprise. The crowd had thinned with the late hour, and I was cashing out what I hoped would be a final drink order, when I heard a smooth, melodious voice call my name.

  “Zach? Hey, Zach?”

  I turned from the register and saw Duncan sitting at the end of the bar, the same stool he’d been in when he showed up with Corey that afternoon. He beckoned with his hand and I smiled and gave him the ‘one minute’ finger. He nodded, returning my smile, and I had to look away and remember to focus on the order I was ringing up.

  Duncan had acquired an impressive suntan since last I saw him, and I wondered if he’d been on vacation somewhere—though Boston was hot as fuck right now, he could have gotten it from just sitting outside. Why was I pondering Duncan’s tan? Probably because it bumped his attractiveness up about twenty notches in the faded jeans and peach short-sleeved shirt he wore.

  I checked myself before I determined I might once again be on the path to wreck myself. Reminded myself that I was now New Zach City and determined to examine whether any stirrings I felt were healthy for me. Never before had I been attracted to a man like Duncan. So why now? There were only two options. One, because he was Corey’s uncle, and I could see the family resemblance in his eyes and some of his facial expressions. And two, Duncan was my boss. I’d never been into someone having authority over me, but on the off chance it was a blooming kink, I needed to nip that in the bud as well.

  There. Good. I was getting better at life, learning to analyze my feelings before they led to bad choices. Looking before I leapt, using my logic before indulging in passionate whims. Passionate? I’d just been mentally bemoaning my lack of passions in life, but here I was trying to squash the first tingle I’d felt in ages. But it was the right thing to do. Because it was Duncan-fucking-Stengel, and he was heaping pile of no-fucking-way.

  But when I meandered down the bar and stood before him, I couldn’t help noting the way his eyes glimmered, standing out against the tanned face, and the alluring, lighter beach-wrinkles framing them when he smiled. “Good evening, Zach.”

  “Good evening. If you want your credit card back, I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” I said. “I bought myself a new car, a trained monkey, and a hot tub.”

  “That’s a shame. I was hoping you were free tomorrow to come by my place and cook for me.”

  “Yeah? Okay. I can return the car and the hot tub, but I’m keeping the monkey.”

  “Deal. Am I giving you enough time to shop and prep?”

  “Sure, I can swing it.”

  Duncan plucked an olive from the bar tray and popped it in his mouth. “If you give me your address, I’ll send a car to pick you up. Help you transport things. This is my idea so I don’t want you put out at all.”

  “Oh, okay.” That sounded good, actually. I still had a car, but it was crappy—and loud because it needed a new exhaust, so I didn’t really want to roll up to Duncan’s home in it. “Do you have a fully-equipped kitchen? I’m just thinking about what I need for cooking purposes. Pots and baking trays and what have you.”

  “I should have everything you need, but if you want to send me a list, I’ll make sure of it. You have your phone?”

  “Yeah.”

  When I pulled my phone out, Duncan took it from me and programmed his number in. When he handed it back, I looked at the screen and laughed. “Funny.”

  Duncan smirked. “I thought it was appropriate.”

  He’d listed himself in my contacts as ‘The Other Stengel’.

  “Do you want a drink or something?”

  Duncan licked olive juice off his fingers, and I tried not to stare at his lips. “I’m suddenly in the mood for a dirty martini.”

  “You got it.”

  I made Duncan’s martini with extra care, and got no complaints as he sipped it while I finished my shift. When the last customers drifted out, Barry the manager approached Duncan and they spoke quietly for a few moments. After that Barry left, and most of the remaining staff trickled out the door as well.

  But Duncan was still there. I strolled down and stood before him, noting his martini was nearly gone. “Do you want another? Bar’s closed but I know the owner.”

  “I’ll have another if you’ll join me.”

  “Me?”

  Chuckling, Duncan nodded. “You. Unless you’re too tired. But I’ll set our cooking date tomorrow in the early evening, so we can both sleep off a hangover if it comes.”

  “Oh. Okay, sure.”

  I didn’t drink much these days. But if your boss asks you to have a drink with him, you have a fucking drink with him. I made Duncan another martini, and one for myself. When I rounded the bar, he picked up his drink and slid off the stool. “Let’s move to one of the more comfortable tables.”

  “Okay.”

  I followed Duncan to the edge of the room where a cushy half-moon booth sat under a shroud of branches from one of the large trees. The club was empty and dim, but the fairy lights still twinkled, and mushroom fountains hadn’t been turned off yet. It was a cozy, romantic setting without all the dragonflies and centaurs and customers, and I made sure not to slide in too close beside Duncan before setting my drink down on the table.

  “So,” Duncan said, swirling his martini. “Have you come to enjoy working here, Zach, or do you still think it’s a dump?”

  Great. Chuckling, I hung my head. “I was hoping you’d let me forget I said that.” I looked up and Duncan was giving me that amused smirk.

  “It’s all right if you don’t like it,” Duncan said. “You can be honest with me. I know what it is to work a job you don’t enjoy because the money’s good.”

  “Do you?”

  “Oh, sure. Did it for years.”

  “Can I ask you a personal question then?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Why did you open this place? Why’d you leave New York and move to Boston?”

  “I used to be an investment banker. I didn’t enjoy it, but did it for years. At some point I asked myself, do I want to quit, and try another career? Or should I ride it out, make a ton of money, so I can retire early and do something fun? So that’s what I did.”

  “And that’s when you bought this place?”

  Duncan’s eyes twinkled as he smiled at me. “Yes.” He gestured around the club with his hand. “The overabundance of whimsy gives you a good idea of how tremendously bored I was in my old life. I wanted to surround myself with fun and beauty and good feelings.”

  “And trees and fairy creatures and unicorns,”
I said.

  Duncan shrugged. “Why not? Reality bites,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

  “Can I ask you another personal question?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “You’re very open and amenable.”

  Raising his glass, Duncan said, “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Okay. You said you retired early. Can I ask…how old you are?”

  “I’m forty-eight.”

  “Oh. Yeah that’s young to retire I guess. But you’re not exactly retired. I mean, you run this place.”

  “It’s a pure labor of love. I’ve hired adept professionals to handle most of the stressful parts. I do have to get my hands dirty sometimes though. Things don’t always run smoothly in the enchanted forest. But it’s worth it, I love the place.”

  “Cool. That’s cool. I’d love to be able to do that someday, but at this point I can’t imagine ever having an abundance of cash to play with.”

  Duncan studied me, twisting his glass on the table. “And how old are you?”

  “I’m um, twenty-seven.” I cleared my throat. “Almost twenty-eight.” Why the hell had I added that last part? Did I want him to think I wasn’t too young for him, like a fucking year mattered?

  He nodded. “You’ve got plenty of time to make money.”

  “I guess. I was going to school for business, but had to quit. Not that I was all that into it. I have no idea what I want to do with my life, to be honest.”

  Why was I telling my boss this? And Corey’s uncle to boot? Not that I suspected he’d run back to Corey to gossip about me. Duncan seemed too mature for that. Still, I was spilling my personal shit like it was no big deal. My feelings around Duncan were contradictory. He made me nervous, but there was also something about him that put me at ease, gave me loose lips.

  “Why did you have to quit school, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Bah.” I shrugged and waved him off. “You don’t want to hear my sob stories.”

  “Not if you don’t want to tell them, of course.”

  “Maybe some other time. I’m in a good mood right now,” I said, surprising myself.

  “As am I. Cheers.”

  Duncan lifted his glass, and I clinked it with mine. “Cheers.”

  I wondered if I should excuse myself and leave. But Duncan seemed in no rush, and I had to admit it was nice, sitting here with him. Vodka numbed me up a bit, and I allowed myself to really look at him without flinching and twitching like a nervous idiot. There was no question, Duncan was hot. He looked like he probably worked out. My eyes were constantly drawn to his strong neck, and the tiny bit of chest hair I could see above his shirt. His fingers were long and manicured as he caressed his martini glass.

  As his eyes met mine, there was a moment where things low in my body squirmed a bit, because his expression had turned serious. When he was smirking and teasing me, I could handle it. But that full-on stare was something else entirely. “What is it?” he asked. “Something else you want to ask me?”

  “Huh?”

  “You were staring at me.”

  “Oh, yeah.” To hide the real reason I’d been staring—that Duncan was just fun to look at—I made something up. “What was Corey like as a kid?”

  “Oh.” Duncan chuckled and looked down. “Are you…” His eyes lifted to mine. “Still hung up on my nephew?”

  “No! Not at all. Way past it. But he never talked much about his past or his family, so what the hell. It’s an opportunity to mine some gold posthumously.”

  Duncan shrugged, and even that small movement was somehow elegant. “Corey was a smart kid. Sometimes too smart for his own good. Ambitious. Often too spontaneous, which got him in trouble a lot. And occasionally annoying, to be honest. Babysitting him wasn’t always a treat. He’s mellowed a lot over the years.”

  “That sounds about right. Are you two close?”

  “Very,” Duncan said. “We always were, but I’d say more so now. I’m proud of the man he’s become, and so glad he’s found his happiness.”

  “Oh.”

  “That bother you?”

  “No, I’m glad he’s happy but Corey’s…well, not anything to me anymore. He’s in the past.”

  “Things not end well between you two?”

  I shrugged. “Does anything really end well when you’re in love?”

  Duncan nodded. “I suppose not.”

  “I’m not really the person I was back then though. I’ve changed a lot.”

  “We all change,” Duncan said. “Without change, we never know what could be. If something better is waiting on the other side.”

  “Well. This conversation got philosophical real quick.”

  Duncan grinned. “Could be the martinis.”

  I noted with surprise that I’d nearly finished my own martini. Hadn’t even realized I’d been sipping it. “Yeah. Speaking of, should probably call it a night.” I chuckled. “Before I say things I’ll probably regret.”

  “Hmm.” Duncan shrugged and sipped his drink. “I think regret is a waste of time. Overthinking things. If something feels right in the moment, I just do it. Say it. Experience it. But I’m older than you. Your confidence will come in time.”

  “What makes you think I’m not confident?”

  Sighing, Duncan leaned back against the seat and studied me. “Just a vibe I pick up from you. That you’re not quite…comfortable with yourself yet.”

  “Shit, now you really sound like Corey. With his magical holistic crap.”

  Duncan laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t share that gift. Mine is simple intuition. Or am I wrong?”

  I stared down at the table. “No. You’re not wrong. My confidence could certainly use some improvement.”

  “Some might look at you and think you must be confident, considering your good looks.”

  “They’d be wrong.” I met Duncan’s gaze. “I’m more than that. I just don’t know what yet.”

  He nodded. “You’re much more than that. I can sense this too.”

  I cocked my head. “Really?”

  “I don’t want to overstep, and I don’t know you. I’m only judging on things you’ve said to me. Your manner. I get the feeling people have tried to pigeonhole you into a certain box. To the point you started to believe you belong there. But you’re changing now, and the box is getting uncomfortable.”

  “Okay.” I held my hands up, chuckling. “Now you’re reminding me a little too much of Corey with the whole intuitive thing. You sure it’s not hereditary?”

  Duncan gave me a wide smile. “No, I’m full of shit, actually. I’m just a little drunk and trying to get to know you better. Toss enough darts, you’re going to hit a bullseye eventually.”

  I laughed. “Okay, you got me.” I was beginning to feel emotionally naked in Duncan’s presence. Aware that I’d have to cook for him tomorrow, I figured it was time to bow out, so tomorrow-me wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. “Well, thanks for the drink. And the conversation. I’d better head home. You need help closing up?”

  “You go ahead, I’ll handle it. Is five a good time for you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  “Good. My friend Robert will pick you up.”

  “Okay.” I stood and slipped out of the booth. “Ah, see you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Zach.”

  As I headed home, I wondered exactly why Duncan was bothering to get to know me. Was it because I was an employee? His nephew’s ex? Did he show this much interest in everyone? It was more likely that I was just a head-case, overly suspicious just because someone was being nice to me. Someone who didn’t want anything from me in return.

  At least I didn’t think Duncan wanted anything from me. Time would tell.

  Chapter Four

  I spent Sunday morning and afternoon prepping my food as best I could. I’d made the nut cheese and mushroom stuffing ahead of time, and anything else that would make cooking easier once I got to Duncan’s.
When ‘Robert’ called my phone at half past four and said he was waiting outside to take me to Duncan’s, I was ready, but realized I had too much stuff to carry downstairs by myself. I’d have to take the Hell-evator.

  At least I didn’t have to bring pots and pans and shit. I’d texted Duncan my list of cooking necessities as he’d asked, and he’d responded, ‘I will give you everything you need’ with a little winky-face emoji. I’d started to over-analyze his reply but stopped myself. The old me probably would have read some innuendo into Duncan’s reply and then worked myself into mental tailspin trying to figure it out. As it was, I’d spent too much time considering what to wear to his house. Since I’d be cooking and wanted to be comfortable, I’d opted for long shorts and a polo shirt. Nothing fancy, but a step up from jeans and a tee shirt. I wanted to appear somewhat professional, because I tended to feel clumsy and kind of inferior in Duncan’s presence.

  Yeah. He’d been right about my confidence problem. But I was working on it.

  After loading all my supplies into the claustrophobic elevator, I hit the button, then closed my eyes and tried to imagine I was standing in the middle of a wide, open field somewhere. It wasn’t very effective because of the stink and the creaking, but I made it to the first-floor lobby without freaking out and curling up into fetal position.

  Dragging my bags and boxes and Tupperware out of the elevator, I stood in the lobby and frowned. I’d need help carrying the stuff outside too, and didn’t know exactly where Robert was or even who the fuck Robert was, so I hit return on his number and called him back.

  “Yes, this is Robert.”

  “Hi Robert, this is Zach, Duncan’s…employee?”

  “Yeah, I’m parked on the street outside your building.”

  “Any way you could come into the lobby and give me a hand? I’ve got a lot of stuff to haul.”

  “Oh. Um…is this neighborhood safe?”

  Rolling my eyes, I said, “Yes, it’s safe.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

  I waited, and eventually a handsome Indian-looking man about thirty, black hair and big dark eyes, stepped through the door into the lobby. He wore tan slacks and a short-sleeved white button-down, and he not only immediately pinged my gaydar, but also looked familiar. I got a vision of him in a tight, shimmery tee shirt, and decided I’d probably served him drinks back when I worked at the Immunity dance club. He didn’t seem to recognize me, however, and that was just as well.