His hands stilled on her back. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I was wrong. When I told you to stay away from Gideon. I think he may be exactly what you need. What we all need.”
Jesus, so tempting. But Alex had had the wake-up call. He shook his head. “Nah. Trust me, babe. It’s better this way.” Someday he’d believe that.
“You’ve been my hero forever.” She pulled out of his embrace and backed away, wrapping her arms across her stomach. “I never thought I could be disappointed in you.”
“Lin—”
“I threatened him, you know. Gideon. The first time you stayed here. I was afraid he’d break your heart. I never imagined you’d break his.”
Geekspeak: Hellbanning
Definition: When posts from a forum user are blocked from everyone but themselves; they appear to be interacting normally (making posts, viewing posts), but they are invisible to all other forum users.
The weekend with his father had been . . . odd. Gideon hadn’t expected his father to be (a) sober, or (b) remarried, or (c) glad to hear from Gideon, but he’d been all three. He’d invited Gideon to visit, so Gideon had driven down to Mt. Angel, to a house orders of magnitude different from the house he’d grown up in.
In fact, both the house and the wife were out of character for the driven, image-conscious man Gideon remembered from before the descent into alcoholism. The house was a generic fifties ranch, its only charm from a certain shabby chic that Gideon gave Miki, his father’s Korean manicurist wife, all the credit for. It was as far from his mother’s Architectural Digest ice castle as Gideon was from Arnold Schwarzenegger.
As for his father, he didn’t seem to give a shit about having downsized. He’d always been a morose guy, never smiling, never enjoying anything, not even his drinking. But now, he not only smiled, he laughed—big, gut-busting guffaws. Gideon had never heard him laugh like that before.
Of course, back in those days, they’d never had kittens playing leapfrog over the furniture, the people, and each other, either.
Kittens. That was right, kittens—four of them. Miki was active in a cat-rescue league, and apparently she and his father fostered kittens on a regular basis.
So. Freaking. Weird.
They’d insisted Gideon stay for the weekend, and having four balls of purring fluff perched on him every night went a long way toward making him feel better. Not all the way, maybe, but they beat cacti and an air fern in terms of companionship and entertainment value.
He’d been tempted to smuggle one home with him, but he didn’t want to give Lindsay another reason to rethink his tenancy.
His dad and Miki had wanted him to stay longer, but he headed back to Portland early Monday morning so he could to finish his heinous project, get paid, and put the whole sorry episode behind him.
He’d convinced the Luddite—thanks to his highly persuasive email—to let him work during daylight hours since the noisy, messy part of the construction was over. As a bonus, he didn’t risk running into Alex. That was a good thing, right?
By the end of the day, everything in phase one, other than actually bringing the servers online, was complete. Because of a last-minute request by the internet provider, they’d delayed that final step until the next morning, but the Luddite had agreed that Gideon had met the terms of the contract.
Now, the only thing he had left on his agenda today before he could go home and wallow in kittenless self-pity was the stupid meeting with Jared. God, he was so not in the mood.
Back on October thirty-fifth, he’d have killed for this meeting, and done his best to turn it into a date. Tonight, he wanted nothing more than to get it over with. One and done, done, done.
He arrived at Downstairs Downtown at the same time as Jared, who smirked at him.
God, how had he ever thought this man was hot? His face lacked character. Smile totally insincere. Shoulders too narrow. Chest not nearly broad enough to hold Gideon up. And Charlie was right: the chin toupee was stupid.
“I’m glad you took my advice.”
“Your advice?”
Jared looked him up and down. “I told you to wear something to match the venue.”
I know how to dress for a business meeting, you jerk. You didn’t need to give me a freaking dress code. Suddenly, Gideon wished he’d opted for Charlie’s giant orange Hadoop T-shirt and Daniel’s oversized sweatpants.
Jared raised one finger in greeting to the man at the host’s stand. Freaking fabulous. It was Tall Guy, aka Landon: Alex’s best friend and Gideon’s new downstairs neighbor. God, where was a potted palm when you needed a convenient hiding place?
“Landon. My usual table?”
“Mr. Haynes. Good evening.” Landon lifted his gaze from the seating chart, a welcoming expression on his square-jawed face, but when he met Gideon’s eyes, his teeth clenched in a feral smile. “I’m sorry, but it’s taken. It’ll be about thirty minutes before it’s free.”
Jared frowned, a petulant twist to his mouth, like a toddler who’d been denied a second piece of candy. “Fine. We’ll wait in the bar.” He tossed a glance over his shoulder at Gideon. “At least they’ve got a decent selection of single malt.”
Eeep. From the way Landon’s eyes narrowed at Jared’s patronizing tone, Gideon halfway expected him to show them to a charming seat on the curb in front of the restaurant, courtesy of his foot on their asses.
“Sorry, it’s full too. Have a seat in the waiting area and I’ll call you when something opens up.”
Gideon touched Jared’s arm. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“I do. I’ve never had to wait here before.”
“It’s a popular restaurant. Other people wait all the time.” Unless you’re the owner’s best friend.
Jared opened his mouth, but must have changed his mind before he let another idiotic and probably entitled remark escape. He gestured to the padded bench under the front window. “True. I suppose this will give us a chance to get to know each other, hmmm?”
“Sure.”
He put his hand on the small of Gideon’s back, but in the three steps to the seating area, he slid it down past Gideon’s waist.
Uh . . . I don’t want to get to know you that well.
Gideon ducked out from under the overfamiliar touch, heat rushing up his neck. He glanced back at the host’s stand, but it was empty, Landon on his way through the restaurant like a man on a mission. Thank God for that.
He sat down, inching away when Jared sat a little too close. Why should it matter whether Alex’s friend saw Gideon with another guy? Alex had never bothered to introduce them—maybe that was a statement right there.
Gideon plastered on his fake marketing smile and tried to pay attention to Jared’s boring tale about his speech to some exclusive club or other.
Alex has nothing to say about my behavior from now through the rest of my life. So screw him.
But as Jared droned on, Gideon couldn’t help adding, I wish.
With the Haynes job pretty much a done deal, Manny hadn’t come through with a shift for Alex on Monday night. Desperate to occupy himself, he set up the portable rip saw on the back porch and tackled the stair replacement.
Drill, damn it. Where the hell was his cordless drill?
Ah, shit. He’d left it in the server room when he’d installed the thermostat before Thanksgiving—so focused on Gideon that he hadn’t followed standard job protocols and cleared away his own shit.
Stupid. Should have walked away the first day. Would have been better for everyone.
Since he couldn’t unscrew the boards—or unscrew Gideon—he took his wrecking bar to the charred treads in a creak of protesting hardware and a crack of splintering wood. Way more satisfying.
He’d taken off his jacket once he’d warmed up with the work, so it took him a minute to realize the muffled buzzing wasn’t the drone of the saw motor but his cell phone in his pocket.
Could it be Gideon? What if it was? Nothing had changed,
not really, other than that Alex was regretting his outburst more with every minute. He wasn’t sure he could face talking to Gideon.
But can I stand not to talk to him?
On the last ring before it rolled to voice mail, he grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
“Dude. You need to get down here.”
“Landon? What the fuck, man?”
“I mean it. Gideon is here with the asshole CEO from the seventeenth floor.”
“He works for the guy. It’s probably business.”
“Business involving the CE-Hole’s hand on his ass? We don’t run that kind of shop.”
Alex’s vision darkened around the edges, and he clutched the broken board with enough force to drive a splinter into his palm. You’ve got no right. Stand down. “I told you. We’re not seeing each other anymore.”
“You may not be seeing each other, but you were damn well looking, both of you. Don’t screw this up, man.”
“My father—”
“Would not want you to be unhappy. Get your ass down here before something happens that you’ll regret for the rest of your childbearing years.”
“Fuck you, Landon.”
“Love you too, man.”
For the first time since his dad had taught him which end of the hammer to hold, Alex didn’t pack his tools away neatly before he left a jobsite. He jumbled them into their chest haphazardly and dumped the saw into its case. After he double-checked the locks, he grabbed his jacket and burst into the kitchen, startling his mother, who was preparing his dad’s supper tray.
“Mom. I gotta go downtown. Will you be okay for a while?”
“Alex. Please. I’m not made of glass.”
“I know, but—”
“Go on. I’ll be fine.” She shoved him toward the door. “Besides, Toshiko will be here soon. I won’t be alone if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Alone. Jesus, alone had to be the worst fucking word in English or any other language. No one deserved to be alone. Yet his entire family was alone together. His dad, alone inside a world that made increasingly less sense to him. His mom, isolated from her extended family and life outside the house while she cared for a man to whom she was a stranger. Lindsay, abandoned by her fucktard of a fiancé because the guy couldn’t man up and deal with a curve ball or two.
Unlike the rest of his family, he didn’t have to be alone. He’d bet Gideon could field any number of curves, and probably juggle them to boot. He certainly knows what to do with balls.
Fuck it. His family was about to turn their luck around, and it was going to start with him.
He ran out the front door and leaped off the porch. His Charger started the first time tonight, as if it knew how important this ride was. He patted the dashboard. “Good boy. You’ll get the high octane treats next time, I swear.”
He pushed his speed a little on the freeway—not much, because he couldn’t very well get his man back if he was stuck on the side of the road getting a fricking speeding ticket.
His man.
Yes, damn it. Gideon was his. Alex knew it, had known it from day one. It was past time everyone else—from Gideon himself to that poaching asshole Haynes—got the same fricking memo.
Geekspeak: Spider
Definition: Aka crawler, wanderer, or bot; a program that searches the internet for newly available public resources; its findings are then indexed and optimized for search-engine access.
Gideon’s eyes were about to roll back in his head from boredom by the time Landon called them to the host’s stand.
“Sorry for the delay, gentlemen. I’m holding a spot in the bar for you, if you’d like to wait there for your table.”
“About time,” Jared muttered. He took off before Landon could precede them, threading his way through the tables, brushing past other diners with no regard for their privacy.
Landon, his expression completely bland, gestured for Gideon to follow, but before he could step out from behind the podium, Gideon held up his hand in an I’ve got it wave. “Thank you, and . . . um . . . sorry for the . . . you know . . . and I’ll just go now, shall I?” God, talk about awkward. Gideon scuttled away, taking a more circumspect route around the edge of the room. Charlie would be so proud of him. He’d finally learned to be discreet.
Before he could follow Jared into the dimly lit bar, however, someone grabbed his elbow. His heart leaped. Alex. But when he turned, a smile already lifting his cheeks, it was only Travis fricking Beatty.
“Seriously, Travis? Again?”
Travis blocked Gideon’s path with a hand braced against the wall. “I only want to talk, G. And maybe later we could—” His other hand traveled south, and Gideon twisted away before it landed on his ass.
“No, we could not.” God, did he have a sign on his back that said, Please feel me up in public? When had single become synonymous with slut? This shit was beyond old, and Gideon had had e-freaking-nough. “I’m here with my employer.”
Travis peered into the bar, where Jared was sitting at a corner table, fingers tapping his knee, apparently ready to perish under the weight of his own ennui. “Haynes. Shit, I should have known. He’s totally your type.”
No, he’s not. He’s nothing like my type. My type is tall and strong and—and Alex. But that door was closed, barred, and padlocked. He needed to get over it and move on; however, Travis was so not the answer. “You know the square root of zilch about me.”
“I know you need me. You think Haynes can do for you what I can? He may be the CEO, but let me tell you a few things about—”
“I don’t have time for this.” Gideon ducked under Travis’s arm, tugging his jacket straight.
“G, wait.”
“Not now, Travis.” He forced a smile as he approached Jared’s table. “Sorry.” He sat down and shook out his napkin.
The scowl on Jared’s face was so not a good look for him. “What the hell was that about?”
Gideon followed Jared’s gaze to Travis glowering at them from behind a row of potted orchids. “Nothing. Trust me, absolutely nothing.” Interesting that Jared didn’t seem to recognize Travis. Ha! So much for Travis’s boasts about knowing everyone who was anyone in Portland business circles.
“I’d heard you were a player, but this is outrageous, even for you.”
Gideon froze. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.” Jared signaled the server impatiently. “You could at least have the decency to wait until after our session before you pick up your next trick.”
“‘Session’?” What the effing eff? “I was under the impression we were here to discuss the website proposal.”
“Macallan, a double. Neat,” Jared told the server. “Now.” He waved the man away before Gideon could order anything. “You and I both know that’s not what this is about, but if that’s how you want to play it?” He shrugged.
Gideon held on to his temper by his fingertips. God, he was done, done, done with getting blindsided on this job. It was not. Fucking. Worth it. He bared his teeth in what could probably pass for a smile to a guy so freaking self-centered. “I’m curious. What did you like most about the proposal?”
Jared pursed his lips. Ewww. “No single element. More the synergy. The . . .” He sketched a sphere in the air with both hands “The holistic approach.”
“Uh-huh. What about the color scheme?”
“Very elegant.”
“Really?” Gideon batted his eyes. “You didn’t think pomegranate and puce was too edgy?”
“No. I—” Jared’s hands froze halfway through straightening his collar. “Puce?”
Gideon balled his napkin in his fist, staring at his hand as an insidious memory wormed its way into his forebrain. Alex, doing this same thing on their first nondate, when Gideon had been almost as boneheaded as Jared and Travis put together.
The memory lit a fuse on his temper, and suddenly he didn’t give a flying fuck if he ever worked for Jared Haynes or his self-satisfied
Luddite CFO again.
“I have never, nor will I ever in my life, put puce on a website. God, did you even look at the redesign proposal? Or did you just decide it was time to get in my pants?”
Jared snorted. “You’re joking, right? When we met, you practically offered yourself on a platter. That’s the only reason I wouldn’t let Harrison fire you after your first infraction.”
Shame scalded the back of Gideon’s throat. I did, but that was before. “You’re the one who reported the infraction!”
“If I ignored my CFO’s rules, I’d be undermining his authority.” The server delivered Jared’s drink—pretty damned quick, considering how busy the place was—but Jared didn’t thank him or even glance at him.
Ignoring the help. God, was I ever this bad? At least I’m always nice to waiters. “Then why not let the Ludd—your CFO can me the second day on-site?”
“He wanted to. But I figured if you could pull off the job, you might be worth a closer look.” He took sip and smirked. “I was right. You pulled it off.”
“So I was on hookup probation? You graciously allowed me to work for you so I’d have the privilege of presenting my ass as a reward for a job well done?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way, but the preliminaries are complete. Now we can move on to the next level. You benefit. I benefit. The company benefits.”
Gideon stared Jared in the eyes. “You know, Mr. Haynes Junior, your company will never, ever benefit, unless you figure out what the bleeding fuck you’re doing.”
Jared’s eyebrows shot up, and he set his glass down with a thunk. “Excuse me?”
“Tell me, who approved the hardware specs for your new offices?”
“We hired the most highly regarded consulting firm in Portland.” Jared’s tone combined supercilious with defensive.
“A whole team, was it? Who was the project manager? The on-site lead?”
“I—” His knuckles whitened on his glass. “What does it matter? They handled the details.”
“Really? Who handled them? Because they had no freaking clue.” Gideon planted his elbows on the table. “Don’t you think it’s important for a CEO to understand his business? If he runs, hmmm, let me think, a technology firm, shouldn’t he know something about technology?”
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