by Gina Kincade
Lionel Scanlon, Zac’s father, was so conservative he made Lutheran ministers look like party animals. The man made no secret of his disgust for anyone who wasn’t white, straight and God-fearing. I set my shoulders, taking comfort in the fact I at least ticked one of those boxes. The only one you could be sure of on sight, too.
I took that one extra step forward and the glass doors spread like a predator’s maw. For just one more breath I hesitated, before moving inside and marching to the reception desk.
The young woman behind the counter—Birgit, according to her nametag—looked easily as bored as she was beautiful. She glanced up from her screen only long enough to convey how forgettable my presence was to her.
“Hi,” I began. “I’m—”
Birgit held up her hand, one finger pointed to the heavens. The universal sign for you couldn’t begin to approach the importance of what I’m doing here, worm.
I snared my tongue between my teeth, letting that dull pain pull at my mind. Better that than succumbing to nerves all over again. I scanned around the cavernous foyer, with its cool lighting and muted opulence. Dark marble and roughly-hewn stone, with just enough gold to ram home how goddamn rich and important the Scanlon clan was.
My attention was snagged by the portraits on the left-side wall. The CEO himself, Lionel, took pride of place. Several other senior executives—all male and septuagenarian—were featured as well. But it was both a pleasant surprise and jarring shock to see Zachary’s portrait up there, on the outer edge. And it set my pulse shuddering again as it took my mind back to our school days.
In a perfect example of opposites attracting, I’d found myself drawn to Zachary almost immediately. The awkward poor kid with the scholarship-worthy grades, and the effortlessly raffish scion of the Scanlon clan who turned coasting into an art form.
For the final two years of school we’d been near inseparable, which had ticked off the school board, thanks to the harmless, and maybe not so harmless, pranks we’d played on students and faculty—every one of them Zachary’s idea. After all, he was the one with the guaranteed future.
Still, what did that say about me? I could have been kicked out for the most minor transgression, yet the moment Zachary whispered his spun gold into my ear I’d be up for anything.
And even back then, I honestly meant anything.
Of course, the distrust between rich and poor flows in both directions, and neither of our families had embraced the friendship. In fact, they barely stopped short of banning us from hanging out altogether. Lionel Scanlon seemed convinced I was after money in some form, and extortion seemed to be his assumption. Mom had always assumed the worst of Zac; that he needed someone to look down on, given his lackluster grades. Who better than the kid with ragged second-hand uniforms?
“Name?”
Birgit’s snapped-out question pulled me back to the present.
“Uh, Nathaniel Ritson.”
“Are you expected?”
“Yes. I’m starting in the marketing department today.”
Birgit let loose a theatrical sigh and clacked a few keys. The slightest crease in her brow was the only sign she was capable of changing expression at all. “There’s no Nathaniel Richards on the list.”
“Ritson.”
Before that moment I’d have sworn it was impossible for fire and ice to co-exist. Yet there was the proof, in Birgit’s eyes. “Do I look stupid? There’s no Nathaniel Richards. Just a Nate Ritson.”
“I haven’t been called Nate since school.” That had to be Zachary’s doing. I applied, interviewed and filled out all the paperwork under my full name.
“If you’d like an appointment—”
“Nate!”
I turned to see Zachary Scanlon himself jogging over, that big goofy grin pasted right across his face. Damn, the oil painting did him no justice. He looked even better than he had in high school. The lanky, athletic youth had broadened and thickened, his long skinny legs now filling out his pants in a highly distracting fashion. Though his wide shoulders made him look like a swimmer, in his Dior suit he was every inch the budding businessman.
“Nate, it’s so good to see you, man.” His grip was strong and warm as he shook my hand, and his crisp blue eyes flashed at me. There seemed to be genuine happiness in his smile. Maybe even a little heat.
It was impossible not to smile back. “Look at you, in your big boy clothes. Hell, you even cut your hair. Is that your family crest there on your tie?”
Zachary framed the design with his hands. “Scanlon. And don’t you forget it. How you been, Nate?”
“Hey, I go by Nathaniel now, Zachary.”
“Ooh, fancy. But come on, buddy. You’re always Nate to me. And you can call me Zac.”
“No, he cannot.”
The deep, stiff voice boomed from over my shoulder, sending a cold shock through me, right down to my feet. It was a voice I’d heard only a few times throughout high school, but it was the kind nobody forgot in a hurry.
The effect rippled through the room. Birgit turned back to her computer screen as if nothing else existed. Zachary’s expression iced up into a formal, almost militaristic, neutrality.
“Father. I didn’t see you there.”
“If I’m not mistaken, son, you’re meeting with Kisaki in twenty minutes?”
“Yes, sir. I expect it will—”
“Then don’t let us keep you.”
Zachary nodded and glanced back at me. “Welcome aboard, Nate. Sorry, Nathaniel.”
He brushed past and out the glass doors in a cloud of efficiency that seemed grafted on. He sure hadn’t been so driven at school. Back then, it was an even money bet he’d either become a pole-vaulter or a pothead. Maybe both.
My thoughts were derailed by the heavy thump of Lionel Scanlon’s hand on my shoulder.
“You’re on time, at least, Ritson.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Walk with me.”
Not waiting for a response, Lionel marched to the elevators just as the doors opened. I scurried in his wake and slipped in, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. I couldn’t imagine the CEO would be on hand to welcome every new employee, so it seemed obvious the man had some kind of agenda.
The atmosphere in the elevator was distinctly chilly, which had nothing to do with air conditioning. I swallowed, trying not to make it obvious how nervous I suddenly was. While I’d only met Lionel Scanlon twice during school, neither time had been particularly cordial. Both occasions had, if I remembered correctly, involved the police. And alcohol.
“Sir, I don’t know if you’d remember, but I went to school with—”
“I know who you are, Ritson. And don’t waste any time getting comfortable. I assure you, the fact you’re working here is entirely down to Zachary.”
“Uh...”
“So you listen to me very closely.” Lionel turned and glared into my eyes. “I understand how it was for you two at school. You were some kind of a novelty to my son. With your head full and your pockets empty. A bit of rough trade during his...experimental phase. But that’s all in the past. The tomfoolery that you goaded my son into was an embarrassment to my family’s good name.”
I had to bite down hard on the truth. This job meant too much to let a little thing like honesty get in the way.
“Sir, I give you my word, I have absolutely no intention of—”
“Do you really think the word of a pauper holds any sway with me? I’m utterly certain you do not have one-tenth of what it takes to work here. You’re not Scanlon material.”
“Then why employ me?” As hard as I tried, I couldn’t disguise the anger in my voice.
“You’re here as nothing more than a test of my son’s commitment. You were always a bad influence on him, tempting him away from the good, Christian values Regina, God rest her soul, and I instilled from birth. The only way he’ll be the next head of Scanlon Incorporated is by learning pure focus. To push aside such trivialities as friendships and...s
henanigans.”
In adulthood, I’d never actively hidden my sexuality, but neither did I broadcast it. At school, though, I hadn’t fully come to terms with it. So while I’d dreamed hard about Zachary, I’d never even gone close to touching him in that way.
But while Scanlon Junior had always remained a fantasy unfulfilled, it was abundantly clear just what Scanlon Senior meant. A man with that much power and influence would probably know everything about my previous lovers, all the way down to shoe size and underwear preferences. “Sir, I assure you—”
“I don’t give the slightest damn about you, Ritson. You’ve chosen to lead a life of sin, turning away from all that’s holy, and God will judge you for me. But if you so much as glance at my son in an inappropriate fashion, you little faggot, then you’ll be taking him down with you.”
I had to swallow to get my voice—and my fists—back under control. “Sir?”
“Zachary’s future is, for the time being, tied directly to yours. Don’t for a second think that I will stand back and let you destroy my legacy.” He jabbed at the elevator button a couple of times. “No fudge-packer will ever run my company. And no son of mine will ever be a goddamn fudge-packer. Understand?”
I ground my teeth down around everything I truly wanted to say. My hands were still fisted up by my sides, but I simply nodded. “I understand. Sir.”
The elevator binged and Lionel stepped out. “Looks like you missed your floor, Ritson. Not a good start. Normally that would be your first strike, but I’m in a thoroughly generous mood today.” As the elevator doors began closing, Lionel blocked them for a moment. “Oh, and not a word to my son, naturally. I feel that complete honesty in this case would likely bring out his...more emotional side.”
I allowed the doors to close before I moved. I stabbed at the button for the thirtieth floor as the heat of rage flushed through me. My heart, my breath, my whole body shook as I held on to the mental image of smashing that man’s sneering face.
When the door opened again, I stepped out and stopped by the water cooler, sucking down two tiny cups of chilled liquid to help suppress the fire in my belly.
Chapter Two
Thankfully, I had plenty of distraction to help me cool my anger. Two solid hours of orientation in the marketing department left no room for stewing over the hate speech. I knew my training and qualifications were excellent, and I’d gained good experience working part-time through business school.
Despite all that, the job held far more weight for me than anything I’d done before. To me, this corporation represented success, and to truly feel I’d made it, I needed to make it at Scanlon.
It was clear, though, if I hoped to turn this into a career, or at least a steppingstone, I had a lot of groundwork to put in. Not to mention plenty of minds to change. That was even more evident now that I knew my role within the organization was to act as nothing more than a baited hook for the man I’d had the full-blown hots for since tenth grade.
Not that I’d ever said anything to Zac himself. I couldn’t afford to take that risk then, and clearly the danger was even stronger now. We’d been close, and had even shared a bed on occasion—fully clothed—but nothing had happened between us.
Despite that, there’d been plenty of rumors about us, most of which obviously got back to Zac’s old man. At an all-boy school that kind of gossip was as common as sticky bedsheets, and was usually nothing more than a vague probe for a weakness to exploit. Even so, I’d always had a sense that there was an unspoken offer right on the tip of Zac’s tongue. An offer that would taste like heaven.
At the first break in orientation, I came up for air and crept away to the break room. It was both a pleasant surprise and a sensory shock to find Zac standing there, staring out the window with his back to the door. He was motionless, with a cup of coffee in his hand that seemed to have gone cold.
“Zac?”
The tall, blond man turned as if waking from a dream. “Oh, hey, Nate. Sorry, Nathaniel. It’s gonna take me a while to get used to that.”
“How’d it go with Kisaki?” Professionalism seemed the best approach. If nothing else it would keep me from speaking my own truth. A truth that could spell the end of Zac’s career as well as my own.
“It went fine, I guess.” He lifted the cup and took a sip, spitting it straight back out. “Ew.”
“And how’s your sister? Clare, right?”
“She’s, uh...she’s doing just fine.”
There was a tone in there I couldn’t read, so I figured a change of topic would be in order. “Surprised to see you down here with us plebs, man.”
“Starting today, this is my department. Father wants me to get a solid grounding in all aspects of the business. Says it’s good for my character.”
No value in putting bait where it can’t be found, either. I poked at the coffee machine’s buttons to make a long black, and strolled over to the window beside my old friend and new boss.
“So, what’s it been, Zac? Five years?”
“At least. You look good, Nathaniel. Healthy and strong. Those glasses suit you.”
“Yeah, I always wore contacts at school. As I recall, anyone with glasses was apparently going blind from jerking off too much.”
A burst of laughter leapt from Zac’s mouth. “Like there was such a thing as ‘too much’ in your case.”
“Hey, look who’s talking, mister ten-in-one-day.”
“Uh-uh. That was purely to win a bet.”
“Yeah. ’Cause there was nothing else in it for you.”
A crisp cough from behind called our attention, and we turned. Standing in the doorway was a tall, dark-haired woman, whose gray wool suit and barely-there makeup seemed designed to suppress any filthy rumors of femininity.
Zac saluted the woman with his cold coffee. “Ah, Miriam. Father’s eyes, ears and perpetually-brown nose. Always a delight to see you. How are things up in the eagle’s nest?”
Zac’s insolent taunting seemed to have no effect on her. “Your father wishes to speak to you, Master Scanlon. In Board Room C.”
“Master? What am I, twelve?” He waved his hand at her. “I’ll be along shortly.”
“Now.”
Zac glanced across to me and shrugged. “Duty calls. Come see me at the end of the day. We have a lot of catching up to do.” There was a slight hoarseness to Zac’s voice as he uttered the last sentence. A timbre that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention.
“Good, uh...good luck up there.”
I turned back to the coffee machine and scooped up my mug. When I turned back around Miriam was standing right there, so close I almost jumped out of my skin.
“Fuck!”
“Don’t get comfortable here, twinky-boy. I know more than enough about you to end not just your job, but your career.”
“Well, clearly your research is faulty. I’m much more of a wolf than a twink.” I took a slow sip of my scalding coffee, maintaining eye contact all the while. Up close it was clear she was much younger than she’d seemed from across the room; late thirties, if that. Her dragged-back hair and vampiric skin tone seemed designed to bring her appearance closer to android than human. “And I don’t believe I have anything to hide.”
“You weren’t exactly forthcoming about your lifestyle.”
“I filled out the employee form truthfully. I don’t remember seeing a question about the frequency and severity with which I smoke pole.”
Miriam speared the air in front of my face with her long finger. “If Mister Scanlon had his way, it would be the first question. This company maintains a strong moral and ethical standard.”
“Indeed.” I shook my head, wondering for the thousandth time why it was that consensual man-sex was so much less moral than child labor, or befouling the planet. Rather than sinking myself, I took another long sip and eased past the tall woman. The bigger picture was what mattered here. A tenure of half a day never looked good on a resume.
Besid
es, if I shot myself in the foot now I’d miss the chance to catch up with my crush. The tone of Zac’s voice when he’d made that invitation was just too damn enticing to resist.
Chapter Three
I managed to keep to myself for the rest of the day. More importantly, I had no further contact with either of my brand spanking new nemeses. Come five o’clock I hadn’t seen Zac, so I figured the catch up was cancelled. It hurt, but no more than years of unrequited lust did.
Just as I went to shut down my computer, the email lit up. A message from Zac.
Rescue me! Some kind of small emergency. Make it convincing!
I crept down the hallway so I could peer into Zac’s office. Through the glass wall I could see the man himself at his desk. Sitting across from him was a pretty young woman who seemed vaguely familiar.
Once again, there were two options for me: The safe one, where I ignored my friend and scampered home to jerk off while I thought about him. Or the one I truly wanted. The one where I rescued my crush and we rode off into the sunset, locked together in sweaty passion. The one I really couldn’t risk.
I scurried back to my tiny office and switched off the light. I closed the door with every intention of walking the straight and narrow, all the way to the elevator. Trouble was, that took me straight past Zac’s office.
I took a glance through the glass wall as I passed, just as the woman turned to the side. As I caught her profile, it was suddenly clear to me who she was and where I knew her from. I shifted my gaze up to Zac, who was making all kinds of signals to me with only his eyes.
With a sigh, I made up my mind, and knocked lightly on Zac’s door before entering. “Hey, Zac.”
“Nate. I mean, Nathaniel. Not sure if you’ve ever met—”
“Miss Daphne Nichols.” I stepped forward and reached for the young woman’s hand. “We’ve never met, but I read the social pages.”
“Oh, phooey.” The pretty brunette rolled her eyes with a broad smile. “That garbage. Daddy likes me to be seen around town. It helps with public relations.”
