by Shawn Lane
“This place must cost a fortune,” Thomas whispered.
Clark glanced at the summary sheet for the house. “Yeah.”
Natalia leaned her head into the bathroom. “Gentlemen? Shall we move on to the laundry room?”
* * * *
The next Friday was the day the bar results were to be announced. Clark planned a special night for Thomas. He’d bought lobster and champagne. He’d learned Thomas loved mashed potatoes and gravy, so he planned on having that as well.
Things were going so very well, Clark also intended to ask Thomas if he’d meant what he said the day they’d had sex on his desk. His lover hadn’t said it since, but Clark didn’t know if that was because Clark hadn’t said it back. This time, if Thomas admitted he had meant it, he intended to say it also. He had fallen in love with Thomas. Yeah, maybe it was crazy fast, but it felt too right to worry about whether it was moving too fast.
Clark took a deep breath and signed on to the State Bar website. Maybe he should wait until Thomas told him the news himself, but it was pretty much public record anyway, and Clark wanted to be prepared. Thomas had been so nervous, he’d let the man go home earlier. He’d been making himself sick. He looked pale, and Clark thought he even felt too warm.
He clicked on the list of names and then to the “H.” Clark heaved a giant sigh of relief to see Thomas’s name there. A strange sort of giddiness filled him. Okay, it was almost like he was looking at his own bar results all those years ago.
He pressed the intercom on his desk.
“Mr. Sterling?” Agnes asked.
“Agnes, I’m going home. You can too. Have a good weekend.”
“Thank you, sir. You too.”
Of course, when he’d sent Thomas home, it had been to his place. In fact, they’d never really discussed it; it was just natural that was where Thomas was going. He kept most of his clothes at Clark’s now. Hell, truthfully Clark was just getting ready to flat-out ask Thomas to live with him. It was stupid to pretend otherwise at this point.
Even this early, before rush hour, the traffic in the city on his way to his apartment was a bitch, and he was getting impatient. He was pretty sure Thomas would have checked the results himself because he knew how to get on Clark’s computer at home. Not to mention Thomas’s friends would no doubt have called him. Still, he was anxious to see his lover and start celebrating.
He pulled his car into his parking space in the underground garage. He slipped into the building, waved briefly at the security guard, and waited impatiently for the elevator car to come down.
When the elevator doors opened, an elegantly coiffed woman and her dog, a likewise elegantly coiffed poodle, got out. He recognized them as neighbors from his own floor.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Lewis. How are you today?”
She smiled. “Mr. Sterling, I’ve seldom seen you home at this time. Pinky and I are doing well. How about you?”
Clark glanced at the dog, who wore a little pink sweater. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m doing very well, Mrs. Lewis. Thank you.”
“I heard from Mrs. Garcia that you’ve been looking at houses. Does that mean you’re thinking of leaving us?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Clark said, smiling. “I think I’ve found the perfect place. I’ll let you know though.”
She touched his arm. “Well, I will be sad. Have a good rest of the day. Come, Pinky.”
Clark got in the elevator and rode it to his floor. When he finally entered his apartment, it was quiet with only a single lamp on next to the couch. Lying asleep on the couch, covered in a pale-blue blanket, was Thomas. On the end table next to him was a half-empty mug of tea sweetened with honey, judging by the smell.
Frowning, Clark knelt next to the couch and gently shook Thomas.
Long lashes swept up. “Clark?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” His hand covered Thomas’s forehead. “You feel very warm. I think you have a fever.”
Thomas nodded. “Feel crappy.”
Clark brushed his thumb across Thomas’s cheek. “You’ve caught yourself a cold or the flu. Have you thrown up?”
“No,” Thomas said, his voice raspy. “I kind of feel like I could, though.”
Clark noticed a wastebasket next to the couch. “Have you eaten anything?”
“No. Too yucky.” Thomas’s lips curved upward a bit, as though he were attempting a smile. “I’m sorry.”
Clark threaded his fingers through Thomas’s. “Ah, honey, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry you’re sick.”
Thomas struggled to sit up, and then he patted the space next to him on the sofa. Clark stood and sat down. He pulled Thomas into his arms, and his lover leaned against him.
“This feels good,” Thomas murmured.
“Did you see the results? No calls from your friends?”
“I haven’t really moved from the couch since I got home.”
He loved the easy way Thomas called his place home. But he hated that Thomas was sick. “Poor baby.”
Thomas yawned. “I know you planned a special dinner to celebrate.” He peered up at Clark. “It would be a celebration, right?”
Clark smiled and kissed his hot forehead. “Yes, Thomas, it’s a celebration. Congratulations, you did it.”
“That’s a big relief.”
It tore at Clark’s heart that Thomas wasn’t able to really enjoy his triumph. “Have you taken anything? Should I get you something to break the fever?”
“I haven’t taken anything.”
“Okay, I’ll get you something. Have to keep you hydrated too.”
Thomas nodded, resting his head against Clark’s chest. “Don’t move yet.”
He tightened his arms around Thomas. They lay there silently for several moments, and then he heard the soft sound of snores coming from his lover. He whispered around the lump in his throat, “I love you.”
* * * *
Thomas insisted on Saturday morning that since he was still sick, he would return to his own apartment.
“I don’t want you to catch it.”
“It’s probably already too late,” Clark said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Come on, Clark, it’s just a couple of nights. I’ll just sleep all day today and all day tomorrow, and Monday I’ll be good as new.”
Clark grabbed his car keys. He’d have to give Thomas a ride since they’d left Thomas’s car at his apartment building. There was no way he would let Thomas drive sick anyway. “Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”
“I know you aren’t. But you have that big trial next week, and I want you to be at your best.”
“What happens when we live together for real?” Clark blurted out. “If. I mean if.”
Thomas blinked. “Well, when and if that happens and I don’t have my own place, then we’ll deal with that. I can sleep in a spare room or something. But right now I have a place I can go, and for practical purposes, it just makes sense. Besides, I need to bring over more things.”
Clark sighed. “Okay. But I want you to call me every few hours to let me know you’re all right.”
“Isn’t that a bit excessive?”
“Maybe, but indulge me, please?”
Thomas smiled. It was strained in his pale face, but it was a smile. “I will. I promise.”
* * * *
By the time he returned to his apartment from dropping Thomas off, Clark was wiped out himself. He really hoped he wasn’t sick. He went straight to bed and had slept for several hours when the phone by his bed rang.
Clark sat up, glanced briefly at the clock, and picked up the phone. “Babe?”
A deep chuckle answered. “It’s been a while since you called me that.”
“What the fuck do you want, Aaron?”
“That’s more what I’m used to. Hey, I know I should have called you at the firm, but I guess you left early yesterday. I tried you there first. Since we’re old friends—”
“We are not friends,” Clark growled
.
“Whatever, old lovers, then. I thought I’d call you at home. How are you, Clark?”
“Fuck you.”
Aaron laughed again. “All right. Down to business, I guess. I called to ask you about a résumé I received.”
Clark frowned. “A résumé?”
“Uh-huh. Funny how everyone who works for your firm eventually wants to leave. Now you can’t even keep new hires.”
Clark swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge. His heart beat hard in his chest. “Stop with the games, Aaron. What do you want?”
“My firm got a résumé from Thomas Harrigan. I wondered if you thought he was worth hiring.”
Chapter 10
Thomas called Clark mid-morning on Sunday. He’d called a couple of times on Saturday, but Clark hadn’t picked up, which was a little strange. Clark always took his calls and had even asked Thomas to check in with him.
“Come on, Clark, pick up.”
“Sterling,” Clark said, his voice raspy, strained.
“It’s me.” Thomas wondered why he’d answered the phone so formally. He knew Clark had his number programmed in.
“Hi.”
“Are you all right? You sound kind of weird. Oh God, you got sick anyway, didn’t you?” Thomas sat down heavily on the couch in his apartment.
“Maybe.”
“I was afraid of that when you didn’t answer yesterday. Listen, I’m feeling much better today so I thought I’d come back over,” Thomas said. “I can take care of you if you are getting sick.”
There was a long pause on the other end. Thomas opened his mouth to repeat what he’d said.
“I don’t think so,” Clark said at last.
Thomas’s gut roiled. He was over the nausea, so he knew it couldn’t be that. He bit his lip. “What?”
“It’s probably best if you don’t come back. I wouldn’t want to re-infect you.” Clark’s tone was cool. It sent a chill up Thomas’s spine.
“Oh.” He swallowed heavily. “Uh, o-okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. It’s better for you to take it easy for another day anyway. You push yourself too fast, you could have a resurgence of your cold.”
Thomas closed his eyes, disappointment washing over him. He wanted to see Clark so damn bad. He clenched his fist, forcing himself to not give in to the temptation to beg Clark to let him come over. Maybe Clark was just the type who got really cranky when he wasn’t feeling well.
“I—all right. Try to get some rest yourself then. I’ll call you tonight to make sure you don’t need anything.”
“I won’t.”
Oh God.
“Clark—”
“I have to go, Thomas. Good-bye.”
The dial tone in his ear was painfully loud. He threw down his cell phone. Dread pitted in his stomach. What the fuck had that been all about?
“Don’t overreact,” he said aloud. His mind went over the last time they were together. He’d been sick, but he didn’t think he’d done anything to upset Clark. In fact, Clark had been so sweet and loving, Thomas had decided not long after he went back to his own apartment it had been a mistake. He should have just stayed with his lover.
It was probably nothing. Clark just didn’t feel well. That was all it could be, really.
Sighing, he reached for his discarded phone and pressed the speed dial for Matt. He’d almost forgotten he was supposed to check in with his friend.
“Hey, are you among the living?” Matt asked cheerfully.
“Finally, yes. I feel much better today.”
“Great. I was getting ready to pop over with some chicken soup.”
“Chicken soup? You can’t cook, and Josh is working today, isn’t he?”
“I can open a can, Tommy.”
Thomas laughed. “No, thanks, I’ll pass. How are things otherwise?” They’d spoken briefly Saturday to congratulate each other for both of them passing the bar.
“Really good. I have a question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Have you heard from my firm?”
Thomas rubbed his temples. He still had a residual headache. “No. I was going to send over my résumé, but honestly, I just don’t want to leave Clark’s firm, Matt. Things are going really well there and with Clark. I wouldn’t want to make any moves like that without talking to him, anyway.”
“Oh. Well, damn.”
Thomas frowned. “What is that damn for, Matt?”
“I figured you would forget to send the fax and all, so I did it for you.”
“What do you mean, you did it for me?”
Matt sighed. “You know how when you were going to interview for Sterling, you e-mailed me a copy of your résumé to go over?”
“Yeah?”
“I still had it. So I pulled it up, added your most recent stuff, and gave it to my firm myself.”
“Fuck, Matt. Why’d you do that?”
“I thought I was being clever, you know? Doing you a favor. I just did it Friday after the bar results came out. Don’t worry, Tommy. I’ll just get it back first thing Monday morning. I doubt anyone has even had a chance to look at it yet.”
Thomas blew out a relieved breath. Matt was right, no doubt. “Good, thanks. Do me a favor and rip it up into tiny little pieces.”
Matt chuckled. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
Thomas smiled. “Very. I’m so crazy in love I can’t see or think straight.”
“I’m really, really happy for you. Does he feel the same way?”
He tried to push away the doubt his most recent conversation with Clark had caused. “I think maybe he does, yeah. Listen, I have to go. I promised I’d call my brother with an update on my condition.”
“Which one?”
“Bill in Boston. He called to congratulate me about the bar exam and then found out I was sick, so now he’s playing mother hen.”
Matt laughed. “Okay, I’ll let you go. I’ll get your résumé back, promise.”
“Thanks. Bye, Matt.”
* * * *
Monday turned out to be a shitty day. Thomas got up late, having hit the snooze button one too many times, and he needed to make a stop at the Los Angeles Law Library before he went to the office. He’d tried calling Clark on the way but got his voice mail. By the time he finished up at the library and made it to the office, it was nearly eleven.
Rather than go to his own office, he headed straight for Clark’s. He’d had horrible thoughts all morning and all last night. He needed desperately to see his lover.
When he approached Agnes’s desk, he stopped. “Good morning, Agnes. Is Clark in?”
She glanced up from her computer. “Mr. Harrigan, I see you decided to come into the office for your final check. I’ll get it right now.”
“My what?”
“Your final paycheck. You did get my message, didn’t you?”
“Message? No.”
Agnes pursed her lips. “I left it at your home phone. Mr. Sterling has decided not to hire you for an associate position after all. If you will refer to your contract, when you were initially hired as a law clerk with the eventual possibility of an associate position should you successfully pass the bar—”
“Which I did.”
“There was a clause,” Agnes continued as though he hadn’t interrupted, “that indicated Mr. Sterling could decide not to hire you for any reason. You were never guaranteed a position, Mr. Harrigan. Your present job as a law clerk is no longer needed, as Mr. Sterling will be looking elsewhere for a new associate. You’ve been essentially terminated, or your contract has expired, since you were a temporary hire. As per California law, your final wages must be paid. When I called I gave you the option of coming in to collect your check or having it messengered to your apartment.”
Thomas stared, his stomach dropping. He had to be still asleep and having a horrible nightmare. “Agnes, what are you talking about? I haven’t been terminated. Clark would have told me if I didn’t have the job.”<
br />
She opened a drawer in her desk and removed a check. “As you will see, this check has been signed by Mr. Sterling himself.”
Thomas automatically took the check she’d thrust toward his hand. His heart beat rapidly as he stared at it. His stomach flipped. “Why?”
The secretary’s lips thinned. “Mr. Sterling expects loyalty from his employees and…friends.”
“I am loyal.”
“How do you explain this?” She shoved a stack of papers at him. “We received this fax from that firm.”
Thomas perused it and saw it came from the firm Matt worked. He shifted the cover page to the back and then realized he was staring at his résumé.
“It’s one thing to be sending your résumé to other firms behind Mr. Sterling’s back, but to send it to Aaron Rush’s firm is just—” Her voice trailed off with a sniff.
“Who?”
“Aaron Rush. The man who broke Mr. Sterling’s heart.”
Thomas felt like he was in some sort of bubble floating above, watching his life falling apart. He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he knew it had to be bad. Clark had signed the check he held. “Please, Agnes, can you…tell me about him.”
She stared at him, hard and cold, and for a moment of dread he thought she would refuse. “Mr. Rush was Mr. Sterling’s friend before you. Mr. Sterling was quite serious about Aaron Rush. There was some talk about making Mr. Rush a partner in the firm. But before he got the chance, Mr. Sterling found out that Mr. Rush had been giving firm secrets to the other firm involved on opposite sides of a lawsuit. It affected the outcome of the case, and our firm took quite a large hit to our reputation. As it turned out, Mr. Rush was friends with someone else from the other firm as well, and he only became involved with Mr. Sterling for the purpose of using him.”
“Couldn’t Clark get him disbarred?”
“Perhaps, but Mr. Sterling chose not to pursue any action against him. It took a long time for both the firm and Mr. Sterling to recover.” Agnes glared at him, pointing at the fax. “That firm is the firm Mr. Rush now works for. He called Mr. Sterling about your résumé when he received it.”
Thomas shook his head frantically. “But…but I didn’t. I didn’t send my résumé to them.”
