“I want him now.” I hitched a brow. “I’m not waiting.”
Dillon smirked. He knew when I had a bee in my bonnet there was no reprieve.
I left Dillon with an iced ankle propped on a pillow and watching the hockey game on the large-screen television. He smiled with content when I’d pulled the covers up close to his chin.
Javier waited for me out front. A snowmobile with a dog cage behind it spewed exhaust, dirtying the snowbank he’d parked next to. I had to admit, the man was good eye-candy—the tall, dark, and handsome type with a South American flare to him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Argentinean? Venezuelan?
He passed me a helmet and placed another on his head. I scooted up behind him and wrapped my hands around his waist.
We sped off.
Back at the hotel, Javier had told me he’d been caretaker to the dogs. Short-staffed, he’d been flummoxed with all the duties. While he loved animals, he’d been hired to do too many things other than minding dogs. No excuse!
As we traversed snow paths over ice, Hot Dog, the dog who starred in last year’s blockbuster Ransom Swap 2, stared ominously out from the cage. His breath swept behind us as his muzzled snout sniffed the cold night air.
I thought of Detritus and how he loved to ride in the car with his head out the window. A pang of guilt came over me for putting him in this predicament. “You sure my dog’s okay?” I shouted to Javier, but he didn’t hear me.
We headed for a distant island where the windows of a cabin flickered. Around us, wind whipped. It snapped against my red parka and made its way through to my hands wrapped in thick woolen mittens. I clenched my fists to keep the blood circulating.
Javier craned his neck toward me. I think he felt my hands moving along his stomach. I stopped doing it. He pointed to the island.
I nodded and wondered if Detritus was nestled by a fire in the cabin or held in a cage with all the rest of the Hot Dog look-alikes.
Chapter 24
Dillon
The Penguins scored a goal with only five seconds left to the period. “Yes!” In bed, I scooted up, forgetting about my sore ankle. “Ouch. Motha—” I raised my foot and returned it to the pillow Evan had left me. With a sigh, I covered myself with the bed coverings, shivered, and considered turning up the heat in the fireplace.
On TV, two burly men talked on cell phone about the virtues of the beer they clutched in their hands. My mind wandered with thoughts of what being in this movie would be like. The only acting experience I had was in high school when I was in the chorus of Grease during my freshman year. I couldn’t hand-jive to beat the band. And my less than fancy footwork had me relegated to the back so no one would see me fumble the dance routines. The only reason I joined the show was because I had a crush on the guy playing Danny, who ended up being straight.
A knock at my door tore me from thoughts of chanting “We Go Together” off-key in my teens in Renton, Washington’s version of Rydell High.
“Yuh?” I yelled, arching my neck and staying in bed.
“It’s Adam,” said the voice at the door.
“Adam?” I muttered and threw back the blanket.
“We need you for a wardrobe fitting.” He knocked again.
“Now?” I worked my way out of the warm cocoon, holding on to the wall for leverage. “I’m coming.”
The door knob rattled. “Now.”
“Hold on. Geez.” I hobbled into the room’s foyer and opened the door.
Adam smiled. “Hi.” He wore his requisite lumberjack attire. “Glad to see you finally made it. Your hubby around?”
“Why is everyone dressed like a fucking lumberjack?”
He stepped in. “Is your hubby around?”
I futzed with my hair some. “He’s getting the dog. Why?” A draft from the hall chilled me, since I was clad only in boxers and a T-shirt. “C’mon in. It’s warmer in here.”
“Toasty.” The tall man ducked and entered. The door closed behind him. Adam surveyed the room. “Nice suite I got for ya, huh?”
“Yeah, thanks. I didn’t know it’d been your decision.”
He sat on the bed. “We’ve got a fitting for your outfit. Plus, Patty’s here. I thought it’d be a good time to introduce you.”
I hobbled over. “Patty?” I remembered the NEFO executive. “Oh, Patty. Sure.”
“What the fuck d’ya do to your leg?”
“Long story.”
Adam rose, took my arm, and lowered me to the edge of the bed. “We’ll get you over to the mansion, get your foot wrapped and looked at.” His pose reminded me of the Brawny man on the paper towels we buy. “Plus, the fitting room is there.”
The commercial ended and the game resumed.
“Penguins leading?” he asked.
“One nothing.” I searched for my pants. I needed to meet this Patty person. She could be a great lead for Conant Marketing—pain aside.
Adam rose, progressed to the luggage, and took out a pair of Evan’s pants. “Let’s get you dressed.” As he strutted back my way, I remembered Andy Johnson, Danny from my high school’s version of Grease. That’s who he reminded me of.
On his knees, Adam placed my good foot in the pant leg.
I didn’t matter that they were Evan’s corduroys. We exchanged clothes from time to time. His pants might be a little baggy on me, but I didn’t care. When he was in the hospital, I’d wear them to be closer to him.
Brawny Man eased my bad leg into the other, then scooted them up and on me. A sly grin came over him. “I sort of hoped to undress you, not dress you.”
“Excuse me.” His forwardness stunned me.
“Oh, come off it.” He tapped my thigh for me to raise my ass and slide into the pants. “A good-looking guy like you”—his hands grazed my exposed stomach—“must get hit on all the time.”
“No.” I laid back and zipped the pants before he got to it. “I’m married. Remember?”
He tsked. “What do you have for sweaters?” He shifted back to Evan’s suitcase.
“I can—” I winced as I sat up. “I can do it.”
He held up Evan’s Salem State sweatshirt.
“Fine.” I ripped it out of his hands. “I’ll do it myself.” Wearing Evan’s clothes turned me on, like they had on those lonely nights when he was ill.
Adam eyed my groin.
I covered my crotch with the sweatshirt. “Help me up.” I put out a hand.
“Gladly.”
Out in front of the inn, Adam opened the passenger door to an F-150 and helped me in.
“It’s fitting you should drive a truck like this.” I got in butt-first and pulled in my legs. “Are you really a lumberjack, or do you just play one for the movies?”
He tilted his head in confusion and shut the door.
An icy rain sloshed down as we traversed to other side of the island to the alleged fitting. I wondered if this was all a ruse. Adam clearly had a thing for me, and while part of me was flattered, I had no intention of cheating on my husband.
“I thought you should know Patty is a trans woman.”
“Oh?”
“You’re good with that, right? She used to be a guy.”
“I know what trans means.” I scowled at his inference. “Why wouldn’t I be good with it? What, do you think, I’m a bigot or something?” The fact he’d even asked pissed me off.
“This is New England.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sure, New Hampshire slanted conservative at times, but I never considered New Englanders prejudicial.
“Just being away from California, I sometimes have to check.”
I shook my head and stared out the window. Ice pelted the truck. A large burst of light and a loud clap of thunder ensued. “Thundersnow.”
Adam swerved to avoid a hole in the muddied road. “Thundersnow? That’s New England for ya. I can’t wait to get back to the California sun.”
“How long do you expect to be on the road?”
&nbs
p; “Another month.” He touched my knee.
I flung his hand off. “You are a live one.”
“Dude, we could have a little fun.”
If I hadn’t needed to meet this Patty from NEFO and we weren’t driving through a treacherous area, I would’ve roughed him up with a grab to the collar and shoved him against the door. “Adam”—I clenched a fist—“you’re beginning to annoy me. If you don’t lay off—”
“At ease, soldier. Damn, you New Englanders are still a bunch of Puritans. I’m only playing with you.” The car turned left and ascended a steep embankment.
I needed to relax. Plus the Tylenol I’d popped before we left the inn helped the pain in my foot some.
“This here”—Adam jutted his chin at the building ahead of us—“is the Jonas house. Vilhelm is staying here.”
The home was dark, except for a light in one of the rooms on the second floor. A Mercedes-Benz and a Jaguar were parked out front. Adam sandwiched the F-150 between them.
“Why do people drive snowmobiles around here when they can tote about in Jag?” I asked, opening the passenger door.
Light filled the cabin. “Sometimes it’s quicker on a Ski-Doo. In the winter, the lake freezes and you can get between islands a lot faster.” Dark circles under Adam’s eyes made him look older than the twentysomething he’d declared in Salem.
“It was a rhetorical question.” I looked over at the house. “We’re meeting Vilhelm?”
“Should I answer?” Adam smirked. “Or are you asking another rhetorical question? Vilhelm wants to see you through the fitting.” He reached across and shut the door I’d opened. “One thing.”
I furrowed a brow. “What?”
“Vilhelm…well, you may have guessed is questioning his sexuality.”
“The teen idol is gay after all.” I chuckled.
Adam raised an eyebrow.
I cleared my throat. “Um, I didn’t mean anything….”
“Word can’t get out, especially to the media. In fact, he’d probably rip me a new one if he knew I told you.” He looked over his shoulder, then back at me. “The only reason I’m telling you this is…well…he’s a lonely guy.”
“Oh…kaay.” I tilted my head.
Adam picked at a fingernail. “What I mean is…when he finds someone he likes, he might do some things to, well, get you.”
“Are you saying he likes me?” The ounce of flattery turned to concern.
“Look, you’re a good-looking guy, but you’re not my type.” He looked out his window.
I pulled my head back. “Huh?” I wasn’t sure if I was more offended or surprised.
Adam faced forward and placed his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s Hollywood. It’s my job.” He gazed my way. “I have a man back in LA. We’re very happy together. He’s a doctor.”
“I’m confused.” I rested my elbow on the windowsill.
“Vilhelm has the hots for you.” He dropped his hands. “Not me.”
My mouth fell open. “What? Are you his pawn or something?”
“I needed to test you to see if you’d be good for him to…you know…to fool around with.” He sighed. “It’s part of my job.”
I placed a hand on my chest. “Me? He wants me?”
“I need to make sure he’s happy. But so far you’re not looking very promising.”
I leaned back.
“You don’t have to have sex with him,” Adam said. “In fact, I doubt he’ll even go there. But I’d advise you to play along with it, if you want the NEFO contract.”
My mind swirled. I’d done many things with clients to get their business—fishing even though I hated boats, and golfing despite loathing the sport—but I drew the line at this. “I’m sorry. We can just call this whole thing off.”
“Vilhelm’s a lonely man. He just wants company. He’s arranged for Patty to meet with you.”
A breath rattled my lips. “I’m sorry, Adam. But I will not—”
“He’s already arranged for NEFO to give you their marketing work.”
What? I combed a hand through my hair. “Look, I’m not whoring myself out for a contract.”
“It’s a half-million-dollar-plus job.” He opened his door, and the interior light shined.
I released the clutch off my neck. “No sex, right?” I sighed.
Adam got out. “Just company.”
Chapter 25
Evan
Thundersnow rattled the cabin, a small studio with a kitchenette. In the center of the room a door led to barking dogs. Javier let Hot Dog sniff about while I entered the back room.
“Detritus?” I asked through the darkened space.
Javier came in and flipped a switch. Fluorescent bulbs hummed and flickered above us.
More barking. Whimpering.
“Deet?” I rushed toward a group of look-alike dogs in a cage in the far corner of the lab-like room.
A pellet stove warmed the room. A sudden flash of light from outside shattered the air, and a rapid clap of a thunder roared. The barely-on fluorescents blinked and petered out. Darkness save some light spilling in from the main room filtered in.
Hail ricocheted off the tin roof.
“Evan?” Javier shouted over the bellowing of canines and the torrent of the ice rain. His phone illuminated his face. “Hold on. I’m coming.”
Detritus bounded into the air, and his paws clawed at the bars of the cage. He whimpered in the excited way he does when he recognizes me.
“My boy!” I put a hand through to scratch his ears, but he moved and licked my fingers instead. How could I not have recognized my own dog earlier? I easily picked him out of the four or five look-alikes with him.
They barked loudly.
Javier fumbled with a set of keys on a clip at his waist. “Just a second…it’s one of these.”
Tails wagged in anticipation of release.
“You got the right keys?” I asked, biting back my impatience. With my luck, he’d have brought the wrong set.
“I think it’s this one.” He tried a key and it didn’t work. “Quiet, Sasha,” he said to the nosiest of the bunch.
“Hot Dog needs this many stand-ins?” I asked, diverting my nervous energy from him trying to locate the right key.
“I’m told Lassie had nine to ten stand-ins.” He yanked harder at the keychain string that shot out from his clip. “Some are used for various things. For instance, Hot Dog doesn’t like water.”
“Deet loves the water.”
“We know.”
“What do you mean, you know?” His knowledge of Detritus’s abilities—acquired in such a short time—intrigued me.
He slid an orange key in. Click. The cage door squealed open, and he held back some of the others. Detritus wiggled out and barked.
I bent down and hugged him, kissed his ear, and patted his back.
“They’ve been watching him for some time.” Javier locked the gate.
Chapter 26
Dillon
Somewhere in a closet in the basement of the Jonas house, I dressed into a union suit presented by an English woman from Wardrobe. I snapped the buttons along my torso, leaving the top three undone as she requested. I reached for the crutches the studio’s medic provided. He’d assured me my ankle wasn’t broken and gave me a few pills for the pain. The throbbing subsided, and the wrapping and splint allowed me to at least place some pressure on my foot.
Thunder crashed and scared me. I dropped my crutches. The dimly lit bulb above flickered and went out. “Great.”
I tapped my hands around my surroundings until I found the doorknob and opened it. “Not much better out here.” I fumbled down the stone-flanked hall I’d traversed moments ago.
“Hello?” The Wardrobe woman hadn’t introduced herself. “Adam?” My hand grazed the cold, damp walls. “Vilhelm?” My bare foot—the healthier one—happened onto a rug, a welcome relief from the dank cement floor. I breathed in a musty smell with an underpinning of oak—albeit from the
wooden crates and wine barrels strewn about. My senses heightened. Warmth.
“Dillon,” Vilhelm’s low, sultry voice startled me. His heat pervaded my space.
“Hey.” My voice wavered. My back pressed against the stone wall.
Vilhelm’s face lit from the phone he held, and the cell’s flashlight illuminated the area. “We lost power.” He positioned a hand on my shoulder and led the way past bricked aisles of wine. “I see you wiggled your bad foot through the union suit fine.”
“I did.” I hated leaning on him for support, but I didn’t have much choice having left my crutches in the dressing room. And my phone! “Shit!”
“Pardon?” Vilhelm stopped at the end of an aisle.
“I left my stuff in the darkened dressing room. My phone and all.”
He sauntered farther away and traced a long finger across labels adhered to bricks. “We’ll retrieve it when the power returns.” His other hand gripped my arm. He lit the signs as we walked.
At the end cap, I used the wall to retain my balance. Without the heat of his body beside me, a draft found its way through the thin, clingy material.
Vilhelm removed a bottle of wine and it scraped out—Shcreep. Clink. “We’ll opt for an Italian red.”
“Shall we take it upstairs?” The basement wigged me out some.
“Nonsense.” He placed his arm around me again, and I begrudgingly welcomed his warmth as we walked by a section denoted California reds.
At a café table around the corner, he struck a match and lit a candle. “I played a vampire in Death to Lovers and grew accustomed to the dark.”
“Oh, yeah.” I vaguely remembered the film. I leveraged an overturned oak barrel for support and slid out a heavy iron chair.
“Oh, allow me.” Vilhelm came to my side, reminiscent of his on-screen vampire. “Where are my manners?” He slid a crate over, and I raised my foot onto it. He rose and stared at me. “You look very handsome.”
I scratched my nape, breaking my gaze. “So…um…where’d Adam go?” Adam’s confession about the illicit nature of his work as Vilhelm’s assistant made him a bit of a safety net.
Building Us: A Gay Romantic Comedy and Adventure (Marketing Beef Gay Romance Book 2) Page 10
