Real or Not

by Tymber Dalton

  The cold calculations she’d put into this shriveled his balls. “Why do you think you’re going to take your father’s place?”

  “Because he told me. But to do that, he really wants to see me married to you first. See, he thinks you’re going to make the company rich beyond his wildest imagination.”

  Brett slowly shook his head. “You’re a piece of work. You know that?”

  “I don’t give a shit what you think about me. It’s easy damn money, and it’s rightfully mine.”

  She walked over to him. “But I’m a reasonable woman. I’ll give you until tomorrow night to wrap your head around this and buy me a ring, then you can propose to me in front of everyone at dinner. Network guy will even be there, right? That’s perfect. Short engagement, we can be married in a couple of months. Besides, if you don’t do this, I’ll fuck you over, your guy’s TV show will get axed, and both of you will be suffering.”

  He stepped out of the way as she reached for the doorknob. “And make it look good, huh, asshole? I want you on one knee and everything. You owe me.” She opened the door and let herself out, not bothering to close it behind her.

  Her departure left him shaking with rage.

  He finally pushed the door closed and locked it, somehow resisting the urge to slam it, or to scream.

  Instead, he went to the bedroom to grab his cell phone, where he’d plugged it into the charger after he’d returned home and texted Kodie.

  He picked it up and called him.

  Kodie answered on the second ring, a smile in his voice that almost immediately calmed Brett’s soul. “Hello, Sir. I wasn’t expecting a call for a while yet.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “No, but I can be. Hold on.”

  “You’re not being filmed right now, are you? And you’re not mic’ed, right?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Go out to your truck and talk to me from there.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know if they have the cameras set up in your office or not.”

  “Um, oookaaay?”

  “Please, just do it. Now.”

  He heard noises like Kodie was walking through the shop, outside, then the sound of the chime of the truck’s door opening and shutting, followed by the engine starting.

  “Hot as balls out here. Let me get the AC on. What’s wrong?”

  “Do you love me?”

  “What?”

  “Kodie, I need to have this conversation with you as equals. Do you love me?”

  “Yes, Sir. I mean Brett. Of course I do.”

  “If I showed up penniless on your doorstep and asked you to marry me, would you?”

  There was a pause. “Brett, what’s going on?”

  “Answer the question.”

  When Kodie next spoke, his voice sounded quiet, wounded. “Despite how angry I was at you for leaving me, one of the biggest fantasies I had for years was you one day showing up on my doorstep, needing me, and I forgave you and took you in. Then I proved to you how much I still loved you. That I could take care of you, no matter what. That all I ever cared about was you. Now please tell me what’s going on.”

  “If the show disappeared, if you had to go back to life as it was before the network contacted you, and I showed up on your doorstep, would you still want me?”

  Another pause. “Brett, unless you’ve raped someone, or fucked or harmed an animal, or collect child porn, or something equally heinous like that, there are few things you could do that would make me turn my back on you. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “I love you.” Brett closed his eyes. “Marry me. Please?”

  “Yes. But you have to tell me what’s going on.”

  He sank onto the bed and, unable to hold it in anymore, he burst into tears. “I’m afraid I’m going to ruin everything for you,” he hoarsely sobbed.

  “Shh, Sir, I don’t give a shit about anything other than pounding someone’s head into the pavement when you tell me who’s got you so upset. Now tell me what happened.”

  Brett finally did, choking out the story and feeling weak and ashamed that he was selfishly retreating from this fight.

  “Oh, no, she didn’t,” Kodie said, anger darkening his tone. “I’ll fucking fly up there myself and go with you to dinner, tell her to fuck herself, and then I’ll drive the moving truck back for you after we pack all your shit. Period.”

  Brett wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like, because he could barely catch his breath. “But what if Ausar decides to cancel your show?” He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Kodie’s show was cancelled because of him.

  “So what? I’m not worse off than I was before. You can help Opal with promotions and work in the office and help Avery until you can figure out your next step. Maybe you can become a consultant or something. Telecommute. Fuck, even if you can’t, we’ll figure out something. I paid my own goddamned bills before this. The show was going to be gravy and allow me to expand. And you have no idea if they’ll cancel the show anyway.”

  “A-are you sure?”

  “All I’m sure of is that this past week was, no shit, the happiest week of my fucking life. Like hell am I letting you walk away from me because some spoiled brat bitch is pissed off.”

  Brett closed his eyes, letting the protective anger in Kodie’s voice wash through him, soothe him. “I’ll do this. I don’t want you there and maybe making them mad. If I just quietly resign, maybe they’ll assign someone else to your show, and—”

  “Sir, I don’t care. Fuck the show. This is about our lives, and all I want is you. Understand? Hard limit—if you mean it about marrying me, then I’m at dinner tomorrow night. Do I make myself clear, Sir?”

  And like that, the laugh burped out of Brett, allowing him to catch his breath. “Hey, now who’s getting toppy?”

  “Please, Brett.” Brett hated the desperation in his tone. “I need to be there.”

  Another deep breath. “Okay.”

  Even on the phone, he heard the sigh of relief from Kodie. “Thank you. And please don’t go doing something stupid like thinking you have to fall on a sword for me. It’ll really piss me off if you do.”

  “You won’t hate me if you have to support my ass for a while? I mean, I’ll sell my condo. That’ll give us a cushion. And I have savings. But I’m not rich enough I can retire, or anything like that.”

  Now it sounded like Kodie was close to tears. “Is this real or not?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Us. Is this real, or not, Brett?”

  Brett swallowed. “It’s real.”

  “Then I’ll only hate you if you let her win, Sir. If you think you’re going to break my heart again, then don’t fucking get my hopes up like this. Otherwise, if you mean it, and it’s real, I’ll make an airline reservation when I get off here and be there tomorrow night with you.

  “Even if your dad doesn’t fire you, I don’t want you up there anymore. I want you here, with me. I’m going to make another demand of my own—if you really love me, and really mean it about marrying me, then it’ll be my finger you’re slipping a ring on at the restaurant tomorrow night, not hers. Even if it means you never find another job and I have to work to support us, and you come to work in the shop helping to run the office, then that’s what we will do. Understand?”

  Brett would never rid himself of the memory of the tears in Kodie’s eyes that last night they’d spent together years ago, how soft and desperate he’d sounded when he begged Brett to stay.

  When he’d promised Brett he could take care of them if he’d just trust him.

  How, in some ways, it’d made Brett feel worse, because his fear had allowed him to basically walk away from the best thing he’d ever had in his life. How he was supposed to be “in charge,” when there was his boy, wanting to take care of him?

  “Let me know what flight, and what time,” Brett said, “and I’ll meet you at the airport. Book your flight into Dulles.”
<
br />   Now Kodie was crying, and not bothering to hide it from him. “I love you so fucking much, you have no idea.”

  “I hope you still feel that way when I’m hunting through the want ads for a job.”

  Kodie tearfully laughed. “I’ve felt that way for twelve years, asshole. Longer, if you count when we were together. Why would I stop now?”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, Brett took a deep breath as he headed up to his father’s office to meet with him and Ryan Ausar. Kodie was already in the air and winging his way toward Washington from Tampa, but Brett had decided to do something stupid.

  Well, technically not stupid in the grand scheme of things, but it might speed up his moving timeline a little.

  There was no way he’d spend the entire day awaiting his fate.

  He was done bouncing around due to the actions of others.

  It was time he took command of his own future.

  Ausar stood when Brett walked in after knocking, and the man wore a friendly smile as he shook with him.

  “There he is, the man of the hour,” Ausar said. “How are we today, Brett?”

  “Good, thanks.” He took the other seat in front of his father’s desk, his stomach churning as Ausar also sat.

  “I was just telling Darren that I’m liking the numbers we’re seeing already on the promos for Brooksville Bikes. Very impressive. I think we’re going to see some pretty high ratings for the first few episodes.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what I need to talk to both of you about today.” He took a deep breath and stared at his father. “Remember my best friend from Sarasota? Kodie?”

  Darren Tillman scowled. “Not really, no.”

  “The guy I used to hang with all the time in high school. Shorter than me by a little. Skinny kid. You kept warning me never to loan him money, even though he never asked me for any. You weren’t fond of him because his parents were getting divorced.”

  “Oh. I…guess? Son, I’m sorry, I honestly couldn’t tell you. That’s been, what, twenty years?”

  Brett stood, walked around his father’s desk, and lifted one of the pictures that sat on the shelves behind him. It showed him, at fifteen, grinning as he held up a stringer of fish. Next to him stood Kodie, also grinning and holding up his own stringer of fish. “Him.”

  His father’s scowl darkened. “That kid? What about him?”

  Ryan Ausar sat back, his legs crossed at the knees. “I take it he was a dear friend of yours?”

  “You could say that.” He carefully set the picture back in its place. He had a copy of it at home, framed, and a copy of it on his phone.

  It was one of the few pictures he had from that time where both he and Kodie were smiling and truly looked happy. It’d been a great day, a fun day, and they’d spent it with another friend and that kid’s father, out fishing on the man’s boat.

  The future seemed a forever away, and Brett had enjoyed spending the day able to relax with Kodie and be himself without worrying about his father scowling over anything he said or did.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” his father asked.

  Brett returned to his chair. “His name is Kodie. But he goes by his middle name now—Lincoln. Kodie Lincoln Kirk.”

  Ryan’s eyebrows arched. “Ahh.” He knowingly nodded. “I see.”

  “He was actually my boyfriend,” Brett continued, “even though I was too scared to let you know that because I knew you’d disown me if you found out I was gay. I broke up with him when you insisted I go to Harvard Business School. Oh, and by the way, I’m marrying him.”

  His father’s scowl deepened. “Wait—what?”

  But Ryan smiled. “Congratulations, Brett. I hope I’ll receive an invitation?”

  His father broke in before Brett could respond. “Are you telling me…you’re gay?”

  “Yeah. I’m telling you I’ve always been gay. Which, in retrospect, should also explain to you why things never would have worked out with Jaylynn.”

  “I don’t understand. How can you be gay? I was under the impression you and Jaylynn were sleeping together? And didn’t you have other girlfriends before her?”

  Ryan snorted. “You don’t get around much, do you, Darren?”

  Okay, that was a good one, and Brett offered the man a fist bump, which Ausar returned.

  His dad stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment that didn’t seem to ruffle Ryan Ausar’s feathers at all. “This is a really horrible joke, Brett, and we’ll talk about it later—”

  “No, we’ll talk about it now, Dad. Because I know you. I’m sure you’re going to fire me, and disown me, and that’s fine. Well, it’s not really fine, but I need to have my say first. Jaylynn’s already told me she’ll out me to her father and you if I don’t marry her. She told me last night that Pete plans on retiring next year and making her COO. Said you didn’t even know about it.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. She’s got a plan all worked out in her head that I’m supposed to propose to her tonight at dinner, we’ll do a prenup, get control of the company, then cash out. If I didn’t agree to do it, she was going to out me to you, ruin Kodie, and get his show cancelled. I’ve already told Kodie this, and he told me fuck the show, he wants me. When we finish here, I’m going to go tell Jaylynn to fuck herself, and tell Pete what her plans are. Oh, thanks a lot, by the way, for sending her to Miami. She walked in on me and Kodie.”

  “Wait—you were in Miami to—”

  “Dad, Lincoln Kirk, the star of Brooksville Bikes, is Kodie.”

  Ryan leaned in toward Brett. “He is rather thick, isn’t he?”

  “You have nooo idea.”

  Brett spotted it the moment his father finished put all the pieces together in his mind. His face reddened and he sat back, his jaw clenched. “You’re right—you’re fired. And—”

  “Is he?” Ryan drawled. “Brilliant!” He turned to Brett. “It’s come to my recent attention that I need a promotions coordinator for Kodie’s show. What is your current salary here?”

  “Last year I pulled in five-hundred-thousand before bonuses.”

  “Excellent. Now, I can’t pay you that solely for working on Brooksville Bikes, you understand, so I would need you to perform similar duties for other shows. But you can telecommute from home in Florida, or even spend time in our Tampa office, if need be, except when you’d need to be on-site from time to time. Would that be acceptable?”

  Brett grinned. “Hell, yeah!”

  “Wait a minute,” his father said, hauling himself to his feet. “You can’t hire him to work on that show! You’ve contracted with our firm!”

  Ryan’s head slowly swiveled toward his father, and for the first time in his life, Brett felt truly afraid of someone.

  “Oh, my good man,” Ryan said, his voice low and bearing a steely edge. “You have no conception of who you’re dealing with. By the way, the network will no longer have any use for your firm’s services, effective immediately.”

  His father’s face reddened. “You can’t do that! We have contracts!”

  “Contracts that each specifically contain clauses that allow us to cancel, without penalty or prior notice, if we are made aware of a list of violations. Such as criminality, or discrimination. Firing your son simply because he’s gay falls under that designation. As the network’s representative, it is well within my realm to cancel those contracts. It also nullifies any non-disclosure clauses relating to why we dismissed your company’s services, so I wouldn’t go using us as a reference any time soon.”

  Holy. Shit.

  If he wasn’t head-over-heels in love with Kodie, he’d be asking Ryan if he was single and interested.

  “B-b-but you can’t do that!” his father protested.

  “I can, and have. Let’s see.” Ryan seemed to do some mental calculations. “Conservatively, that’s approximately fifteen million dollars annually which our network will no longer be spending with your firm.”

&
nbsp; Brett let out a low whistle. “That’s a chunk of change.”

  “I know, right?” Ryan said, smiling. “I believe the network’s money will be more effectively spent hiring the individuals servicing our account and putting them on our payroll. You don’t have no-compete clauses in your employment contracts, do you?”

  Brett laughed. “I know I don’t. I doubt any of the people you’d want to come to work for you do, either. Even if they do, it’s probably a mileage radius and proprietary information kind of clause, not specifically relating to this field.”

  “Excellent.” Ryan shook hands with Brett. “I’ll have my assistant e-mail you a link to an employment contract, and other information, and get that ball rolling, as it were.”

  When his father tried to step out from behind the desk and come after Brett, it seemed like Ryan moved faster than was possible for any human to move. Ryan was suddenly standing in front of his father, one hand on the taller man’s shoulder.

  “Now, where did you think you were going, hmm?” Ryan asked.

  His father glared down at him. “This is between me and my son.”

  “Oh, but you see, it’s not. It’s between you and my new promotions vice-president. Now, I know you’re not about to do something so silly as to take a swing at him, in front of a witness no less, were you? Tsk. Poor form, sir. Poor form indeed.”

  His father looked…confused? Brett stood, uncertain if he’d now need to come between the two men. But his father finally stepped back, and that’s when anger once again filled his expression. “Get out!” He jabbed his finger at the door. “Get your shit, and clear out of here. I don’t have a son.”

  “Pity,” Ryan said as he slowly shook his head. “I wouldn’t have taken you to be so stubborn. Losing your wife when you did broke you in ways no one can heal, I suppose. Not really my job to fix you, either. Too bad your loss didn’t teach you to value your son all the more, instead of valuing your supposed ‘legacy.’”

  Ryan draped an arm around Brett’s shoulders, and a feeling of peace filled him as Ryan turned him toward the door. “Come—I’ll walk with you to your office and help you pack your things. We can talk more in private…”