by Nico Jaye
“I’m glad I found you,” Trick said finally.
“I’m glad too.”
Chapter Eighteen
WHEN MONDAY rolled around, Edwin squinted his eyes open, then shut them and yawned. Turning on his side, he looked over at Trick. The early morning light filtering through the trees cast dappled gems of white across Trick’s duvet, and Edwin just wanted to lie here forever, cozy and warm and next to Trick. He looked over at Trick and caught an expression on his face that had Edwin frowning in concern.
“What bothers you?”
Blinking out of his daze, Trick glanced at Edwin and offered a small smile that didn’t seem to banish the troubles in his eyes. “I know this is the right thing to do, but it’s still a big change.” Trick pressed his lips together thoughtfully, then continued. “My dad… he put so much into that company, and it was my biggest hope to do the same for the longest time.”
Edwin moved closer and settled a hand on Trick’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “Your talents are vastly unappreciated there, though. You can put that much effort and more into your own company. You can do for your company what your father did for this one, and the new firm will have your name on it. You’ll be carrying on your father’s legacy in your own way.”
“Yeah, it’s just… to go down this new road is a lot to consider. A lot to adjust to.”
“Well, you don’t have to quit immediately if you don’t feel right about it. You well know what you’re facing in your current position, after all, and if there’s a better time in the future, you can always wait.”
Trick frowned and shook his head. “No, this is the right time. I’m spinning my wheels there, and it’s doing me no good to get shit on by those bastards. Branching out and starting my own thing will be an adjustment, but it’ll be right in the end. I hope.”
“I know,” Edwin said firmly.
Quirking his lips into a smile that looked a lot more genuine, Trick arched a brow. “Oh yeah? Some of that handy fairy intuition of yours?”
Edwin pursed his lips and weighed his response. “While it’s possible such a power is exclusive to fairies, I don’t have enough evidence of—”
Trick’s soft chuckle interrupted Edwin, and Edwin was glad to see the lighthearted expression on Trick’s face.
“I was just joking,” Trick said, his tone teasing.
“Oh.” Edwin returned the smile since seeing Trick happy made him feel the same.
“But I appreciate your confidence,” Trick murmured. He leaned in and brushed Edwin’s lips with his.
Edwin pressed into the kiss, returning it with enthusiasm. Kissing was still one of his most favorite things to do with Trick. They’d found such pleasure in other activities—pleasures he’d found completely breathtaking—yet the soft intimacy of kissing held a special place in his heart.
He also wanted to determine whether he could kiss Trick in a million ways.
Leaning into the kiss, Edwin cradled Trick’s jaw as he licked into his mouth. When Trick ran his fingers through his hair, Edwin groaned. He loved the tingly, teasing sensation.
Edwin was about to renew his efforts and perhaps begin trailing his kisses down Trick’s neck when Trick gripped Edwin’s hair and lifted his head. Confused, Edwin blinked down at him.
“As much as I want to keep doing this, I need to get to work. More importantly, I need to quit my damn job.”
Gathering himself, Edwin nodded. “Yes, you do.” Edwin’s dick was uncomfortable, though, and he shifted his hips, eliciting a sharp hiss from Trick.
“Fuck.”
“But you just said not now?” Edwin ventured. His cock was hard, though, and he wasn’t sure what else he should do with it. He supposed he could wait for it to stop, but maybe there was another way….
Tentatively, Edwin slid his hand into the waistband of his briefs, and on his way there, he brushed against Trick’s cloth-covered bulge. Trick moved his hips minutely, earning his own soft groan from Edwin.
“Now hold on a second,” Trick said, a wicked gleam beginning to sparkle in his eyes. He reached for Edwin’s hand where he had taken hold of his dick and gave it a brief squeeze. “I do have to shower, you know.”
“And…?”
Trick released him and stretched, his long limbs graceful, before he got to his feet. Turning, he grabbed Edwin’s hand and smirked at him.
“And I don’t necessarily need to do it alone.”
“YOU DON’T have to come with me, you know,” Trick said, even though they were already walking from the subway to the office building where they both worked. Now that Edwin thought about it, perhaps it would be a good time to leave his own job since Trick would no longer be in the area.
One quitting at a time, though, he supposed.
Edwin slipped his hand into Trick’s and squeezed it briefly. “I would like to be there, though. To help with your belongings, if anything.”
Trick looked at him for a moment before inclining his head. “Okay, just… okay.”
After holding the door open for Trick, Edwin followed him inside. Since the security guard recognized Trick, it seemed much easier to access the building than it had been previously when he’d helped with the after-hours cleaning. As they rode up the elevator, Trick fidgeted with the hem of his coat.
Edwin covered Trick’s hand with his own. “You’ll be fine, and if you change your mind, you can always do this another time.”
Shaking his head, Trick pressed his lips together, a look of resolve settling over his features. “No, now’s the time.”
Edwin offered Trick an encouraging smile, which Trick returned after a moment. Over the weekend, Edwin had been there when Trick had accessed his contacts list and made preparations for his departure from the company. He knew Trick was ready, and he was glad he was taking this next step toward independence from Redden’s inexplicable hold.
The elevator dinged on their floor, and with a deep breath, Trick exited the elevator, leaving Edwin to follow.
“Hey, Jenny, good morning,” Trick said to a woman waiting in the elevator lobby area.
“Good morning, Trick.” She gave him a pleasant smile and glanced at Edwin. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh, this is Edwin,” Trick said as Edwin raised a hand to wave hello. “He’s… he’s just here to help me with something.”
Even though Jenny’s face held a look of curiosity, she didn’t pursue the thought. “I’m heading down for a coffee run. You want anything?”
Trick shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“Sure, next time,” she said with a smile. She turned to the elevator when it dinged twice and signaled a down direction. “Have a good day, then, guys,” she said before stepping inside.
Edwin followed Trick to the wide desk off the lobby area.
“You can just wait here while I talk to Redden,” Trick said, gesturing to the chairs available in a small sitting area near his desk.
“Certainly, Trick.”
Before Edwin could take his seat, the elevator dinged again, and the doors slid open.
“Patrick!” A man whom Edwin recognized as Mr. Redden flew out, yelling at the top of his lungs. He headed straight for Trick’s desk. “Did you get the drawings to Maldonado like I told you to? And did you schedule the meeting with the asswipes in marketing about the magazine spread? And who the fuck is this?”
Edwin blinked at the tirade and, hearing the question, offered his hand tentatively. “Hello, I’m Trick’s friend, nice—”
Mr. Redden grabbed Edwin’s hand and flung it away. “I don’t care who the fuck you are. Patrick, my office. Now!”
Trick looked livid, and he offered Edwin an apologetic look. “I’ll fix this. Anyway, we won’t have to deal with him for much longer.”
Edwin was vaguely aware of Trick following Mr. Redden down the hall and up the stairs. He’d barely been able to process Trick’s words, though, because of the onslaught of dark, sinister impressions overwhelming him from Mr. Redden’s touch.<
br />
He felt a darkness of the soul, a twisted moral compass that had veered terribly off course. Mr. Redden’s ego had gone wildly out of control, and his belief in his own infallibility had caused him to make unfair, unjust, and frankly immoral decisions.
Above all, there was one choice Mr. Redden had made which would impact Trick and his future dramatically.
Edwin stewed over the new knowledge while waiting for Trick. Trick’s return was foretold by the slamming of a door that was so loud it echoed through the hallway. The bellowing curses and expletives that followed were equally as jarring.
Trick rounded the corner, his expression a mixture of stunned and overarching relief. “It’s—it’s done.”
Edwin grasped Trick’s hands, giving them a light squeeze. “Then let us pack your belongings and make our escape. Afterward, though, I must speak with you.”
Trick raised his brows but said nothing. He simply went into a side room, then returned a moment later with a brown cardboard box.
“This should be quick,” Trick said, dumping out a cup full of pens and placing the mug inside the box. He began opening drawers and pulling out papers.
The elevator dinged, and Jenny stepped into the lobby, three cups balanced on a tray from Elixir in her hands. She took a look at Trick, stutter-stepped, then continued walking toward them.
“Ohmigod. You finally did it?” she whispered, her expression gleeful.
Trick looked up from where he was sorting through some papers and offered her a smile. “Yup.”
“I am so happy for you. You don’t even know.”
Trick chuckled, shaking his head, and then stuffed a stack of papers into the box. “Trust me, I have a pretty good idea.”
“I’m gonna miss you, though,” she said with a sad smile. Edwin was gratified to know not everyone at this company was a terrible person. “What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to set up my own shop—or at least, I’m planning to. Lots of details still to work out.”
“That’s seriously cool. I know you’re gonna do great. Don’t forget about us little guys when you make it big.”
Trick laughed and grinned at her. “Never. I’ll just forget about working at this hellhole, that’s all.”
Jenny smiled and nodded. Glancing at Edwin, she said, “Make sure you take him out to celebrate, okay?”
“Of course.”
They said their farewells, and when Jenny had left the area, Edwin turned to Trick. “I’m not sure if you’ll be forgetting this place, actually,” he murmured.
Trick stopped with a photo frame in his hand and sent Edwin a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s finish up here and talk outside.”
“HE DID what? Holy fuck!”
Trick’s face was bright red, his expression thunderous, and Edwin had to grab his arm and restrain him from doing violence—presumably upon Mr. Redden upstairs. Actually, Edwin supposed Redden didn’t deserve the honorific and resolved to speak his name as Trick did.
After a while, Trick settled down in his seat, but he continued to clench and unclench his fists on the tabletop. His cup of Elixir’s finest sat undisturbed beside Edwin’s hot chocolate. Trick took a deep breath and met Edwin’s gaze. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Run that by me one more time. Please.”
Edwin nodded and gestured with his hands. “When Redden grabbed me, he impressed upon me. It was… dirty. It felt bad. Nothing like your impressions,” Edwin couldn’t help but add.
Trick’s lips twitched at that, and he tilted his head. “And?”
“And I saw, very clearly, that your father, John, had trusted Redden. He told Redden of his plans for the company, that you would inherit his share. They were good friends at one time, I take it?”
Trick nodded. “Yeah. Hard to believe, huh?”
Placing a hand on top of Trick’s, Edwin gave it a comforting squeeze. “Well, your father could not have known what Redden would become. Nor could he have known that, when he entrusted Redden with a copy of his will, Redden would destroy it and take the company as his own. I gather from the impression that your father… did the will himself?”
With a snort of a laugh, Trick shook his head. “Yeah, that’d be his style. He couldn’t be bothered with a lot of that stuff. Probably got a kit at Staples or something.” Trick paused, then swallowed hard. “Might have done it when my mom died, actually.”
“Well, it was your father’s intention that the company—or at least his half—be yours. I don’t know what that knowledge means, but… maybe you do?”
Trick nodded slowly. “I… I’m not sure what to think.” With a subtle sniff and a brush of his fingers under his eyes, Trick glanced at Edwin. “I… I’m just glad Dad trusted me, after all. Trusted me to do right with the company.” Trick looked up, his eyes wide. “Fuck, I can’t believe I just threw it all away. I just quit my fucking job!”
“No, no, you can’t think that way. It’s—there’s nothing you can do to change the past now, but… we have this new information. Is there anything we can do with it?”
Trick chewed his lip for a moment. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “You said Redden got rid of the copy he was keeping for Dad?”
“Yes, he burned the real will,” Edwin said, unable to gentle his words into anything less than the truth. Trick deserved the truth.
Drumming his fingers on the table, Trick finally said, “Then I don’t know.”
“Could there be another copy?” Edwin offered. “Did you ever come across one?”
“It was years ago, but I remember looking through all of Dad’s stuff. His papers, his files, and the things he had in our place,” Trick said, his voice full of regret. “I didn’t think I’d need any of it. I kept the papers that were important—you know, his first building plans, those that marked monumental moments in his career. But I donated all of the other stuff—I just didn’t have the space to keep it.”
“You couldn’t have known, Trick,” Edwin said soothingly.
“Yeah… I got rid of so much stuff. In fact, I think I only kept one physical item. I just couldn’t see giving away his desk. It’s fucking massive and he had that thing since the beginning, and….”
His words trailed off, and Trick’s eyes went wide and excited. The air seemed to buzz around him, and Edwin leaned forward expectantly.
Trick met his gaze, and his face broke into a grin. “I have an idea.”
Chapter Nineteen
“TRICK, WHERE are we going?”
Trick barely heard Edwin’s question as he jumped in a cab and quickly gave the driver his home address. Midtown traffic was dense, as usual, but the cabbie wove in and out of the narrow spaces between cars like a pro. They made it to the little brownstone in record time, and Trick threw a handful of bills at him, not caring that he’d likely overtipped.
He made it into his apartment and across the room and to the desk in only a handful of steps, Edwin trailing closely behind him. The space wasn’t as small as his old apartment, but the square footage wasn’t exactly massive either.
Dropping to his knees in front of his father’s desk, he reached for the pull on the drawer that had been locked for as long as he could remember. He tugged, and just as it always had, the latch held fast. The key was long-lost, and Trick squinted to see if the locking mechanism was visible through the crack between the drawer and the body of the desk.
Not wanting to risk breaking the desk, he’d never attempted to open it, figuring whatever was inside wasn’t worth damaging the most sentimental possession he owned of his father’s.
“What’s inside the desk?” Edwin asked from over Trick’s shoulder.
Trick looked up at him. He could feel his hands shaking as he braced them against his thighs.
“I don’t know. This was my father’s desk, and when you asked if there could be another copy, it hit me. This drawer has always been locked tight. What if he kept important papers in here? What if there’s something inside
that might help prove that Redden fucked with the will?”
Edwin raised his eyebrows in surprise and hope. “I think that seems a very logical place to keep important paperwork.” He knelt next to Trick. “May I have a look?”
Trick backed up and gave Edwin the space to move closer to the desk. He leaned forward and examined the lock, jiggling the drawer gently.
“I think I can open this.”
Trick bent forward in anticipation. His heart raced and he held his breath when Edwin reached into his pocket and produced his wand a moment later. Aiming it at the lock, he muttered something Trick didn’t understand, and with a dull click, the lock popped open.
Edwin stood.
“You’re not going to open it?” Trick asked. Expectation flooded him.
“I think you should be the one to do it. It is your father’s desk and your father’s will. It’s you who should be the first to look inside.”
Trick nodded and took his place next to Edwin. With tentative fingers, he reached forward and pulled the drawer open. Inside, there was a stack of envelopes and folders. Trick reached in and lifted them out. They were covered in a thin layer of dust, but Trick blew softly and the dust dissipated.
There were several with his father’s name on them, and as he flicked through them, he found a folder with the business address for a notary in the city. Trick’s heart raced even faster as he flipped it open and pulled the contents out with trembling fingers.
Last Will and Testament of John Timothy Grigsby
I, John Timothy Grigsby of No. 2, 298 West 22nd Street, New York, New York, declare this to be my last will and testament.
The paper shook so hard Trick could barely read it. The name had been filled in with his father’s handwriting. He hadn’t anticipated how hard it would hit him to see a piece of paper his dad had written on. He wanted to frame it, to keep it safe forever. Having something else of his was worth as much as whatever was written in the will.
