by Andrew Grey
Honestly, Beau stared at the phone. His instinct was to call Dante to see if he could help, but he was in London and it was now late enough that hopefully Dante was in bed getting some rest. No, this was something he needed to try to handle on his own. No matter how he felt for Dante, or how Dante might feel for him, he wasn’t going to use those feelings to try to get something he couldn’t get for himself.
He called down to the desk. “Can you come see me as soon as you can?”
“Give me a few minutes,” Angie told him, and Beau hung up and did his best to get through the rest of the work on his desk. A few moments later, Angie knocked and came in. “Was it as bad as I thought?”
“Yes. The useless weasel.” Beau placed his hands flat on the desk. “But we aren’t going to take this lying down.”
“We’re going to fight?” she asked, rubbing her hands together.
“You better believe it. Find out how much the offer on the building is and who’s making it. We should also get in touch with all of our clients and their families. Tell them what’s happening. Try to get them to come to the next council meeting. We need to show support for the Center or we aren’t going to have it.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can find out.” She left his office, and Beau stared at the wall across from his desk. He hoped to hell that Dante was having a good trip, because Beau’s ability to possibly have a week where he wasn’t worried about something had just flown out the window.
He missed Dante and had wanted to call him all the damn time, but he had to restrain himself. Dante was working. But damn, he just wanted to hear his voice. Beau hadn’t anticipated just how much he could come to miss the gruffness, power, and heat in Dante’s voice after such a short time.
“You know,” Angie said from his doorway, and Beau jumped a little. He hadn’t been expecting her to come back, and damn, that woman could walk like a cat sometimes. “You could call Dante….” She lilted her voice when she said his name.
“I could. But I’m not going to. This Center is important to the community and to all the people we help. But if we can’t make our own case for it—and I’m willing to fight tooth and nail, by God—if the community doesn’t care enough to keep it, then what the hell are we doing?” He looked up from the papers he’d just set back down. “We need to mobilize the community to support us and find out who it is we’re up against.” And he wasn’t above finding out what their weaknesses were either.
Angie grinned. “There it is. That’s the fighting spirit.” She turned, and Beau sighed. He had to get through this damned paperwork, but his mind wasn’t on it. He needed to get on the ball or there would be nothing to be doing paperwork for.
THE FOLLOWING afternoon, after they had composed emails and sent them to everyone on their mailing list explaining the support and show of numbers they needed and when the next council meeting was going to be held, Angie burst into his office and closed the door. “I found it.” She plopped herself into the chair with a self-satisfied look in her eyes.
“Okay. What did you find?” Beau was checking his email, and his belly turned for the millionth time. It was empty and remained that way. He had hoped to receive a flurry of calls and emails expressing outrage and support, but so far there had been nothing from any of the clients they serviced.
“Are you with me?” Angie asked, and Beau focused his attention. “So, I went to the diner and had coffee, sitting with Mrs. Arenson and her crowd. I drank enough coffee this morning to float a battleship, but I heard nothing, not a blessed thing.” She grabbed one of the files off his desk and fanned herself with it. Beau laced his fingers and waited. There was no rushing her when she was like this. Beau had learned he needed to let her say what she wanted to or, heaven help him, she’d start over. “They were about to leave when Mrs. A finally said that it was a shame about the Center.”
“So word has gotten around.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it has. We sent out, like, a million emails. My inbox is loaded with responses and people ready to show up at the council meeting.” She shook her head as though he was an idiot. “I gave them the main Center email, remember?”
Beau wiped a hand over his forehead. That was a relief.
“And I got the paper to do a story on the Center and what closing it will mean. We’re going to kick some ass, Beau. But, look, as I was saying, I had coffee with Mrs. A and the ladies and I got nothing until Mrs. A said that it was a shame about the Center.” Angie paused for effect. “Then she added that the whole thing was Bartholomew’s fault.”
Beau blinked a few times and leaned forward. “Is Dante buying the building?” That couldn’t be right. Dante knew how important the Center was, and he’d never do that. But a speck of doubt made his belly churn.
“No.” Angie lightly smacked his hand. “Just listen okay? Mrs. A said that it was all Dante’s fault because the guy buying the building is Harper Bledsoe. Who knows how much of this is right. But Mrs. A said that Harper saw you and Dante out together, and the word around town is that you are seeing each other.” Angie barely stopped long enough to take a breath and then spoke lightning fast. “There are two camps about that in town. One is that you better be careful in case the Beast decides to do to you what he did to his wife. The other is that maybe if Dante has someone in his life, he’ll be easier to get along with. Everyone worries about you because you’re such a ‘nice young man.’”
Beau’s head was throbbing. “Can you get back on track?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’ll save you the details, but it seems they think that Harper wants to build a small retail center, and this is one of the locations he was looking at. He picked this one because….”
Beau sighed. “He could have his center and get at Dante through me somehow.”
“That’s what I heard. Doesn’t mean it’s true, of course, but I was able to talk to Shirley in the mayor’s office, and she told me that it is Bledsoe who’s made the offer.”
“Where did he get the money?” Beau wondered out loud.
Angie shrugged. “Does this help?”
Beau groaned. “I don’t know. Yeah, he has some motive, whatever that may be. And all this about Dante could just be the gossips putting stuff together and coming up with the most salacious things possible.”
Angie nodded. “That’s true, and I won’t argue with you. But at least we know who we’re up against.”
“Yeah.” Beau groaned and closed his eyes, knowing in his heart that him seeing Dante had just complicated their lives and put the Center in danger. Not that Beau intended to let that affect things between them. But it did point to the fact that whatever had happened with Allison, and all those secrets, was now about to affect the Community Center and the people he helped. Beau had no idea what he was going to do about it, except fight the purchase with everything he had.
“Do you know Mr. Bledsoe?” The few run-ins Beau had had with him hadn’t left a good taste in his mouth.
“Not really. Some people in town do. He grew up just outside St. Giles and went to school here for a while.” She scratched her forehead like she was trying to remember something. “I saw him a few times. He moved to St. Michaels about the time that the Be… I mean, Dante got married. I understand Harper and Allison had a really rough time of it.” She leaned forward a little. “I know their parents died a year after Allison did. They were close as far as I know.”
“And now Harper is a big-shot developer? He must have been smart or lucky to have made enough money to do what he’s planning.”
Angie chuckled. “He got it from his sister, apparently. Rumor had it that Allison bought a lot of life insurance and made her brother the beneficiary. So when she died, he got a lot of cash.” She sighed. “This is rumor talking here, and I don’t know how much faith to put in it, but that’s where he got the cash to start his business, and by all accounts, he’s a really good developer, well respected. He won the contract to rebuild the waterfront docks in St. Michaels. They’re beautifu
l, with those little shops that are small enough and inexpensive enough that small businesspeople and artists can afford them to sell their work. We could use something like that here.”
“Angie, please….” Beau was getting a headache from all her tangents.
“Okay, okay. The point is, Bledsoe got a pile of money because of his sister’s death, and it looks like he’s using some of that to try to buy the Center.”
“All to punish Dante through me because he saw the two of us together?” Beau knew that was a stretch. “There has to be more to it than that.”
“Oh, there probably is, but I don’t know if we’ll ever figure out what it is. That reason may be known only to him right now. But if you want, I can try to do some digging.”
Beau groaned. He wasn’t sure what to do. “Sure, go ahead, but we have to be careful of all privacy concerns. I don’t want anything that might pertain to the Center or our work to make it into the realm of the rumor mill. But if you can find something out, bring it to me and no one else,” he said, deadly serious. The last thing he wanted was any of the Center’s records and practices being called into question. Right now it was only a fight for the Center’s building and not for the very survival of the organization.
“Of course. I never talk about anything at the Center outside these walls.” She seemed almost affronted. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because as much as I hate to”—especially after the confrontations he’d already witnessed—“I might have to try to meet with him and see if we can work things out.” That idea was a last resort. His best chance was to put enough pressure on the council and Mayor Grant to get them to back off the sale. “Let me know what you find out.” Beau checked the time and stood. “I need to get to a session with the kids.”
“All right.” She left the office, and Beau went on down to the kid-friendly area to get it ready.
“HOW ARE things going?” Dante asked when he called that evening. It had to be well after midnight in Europe.
“Pretty good. I told the kids you’d be back to visit when you got home, and they were really excited.” Beau kept the issue regarding the building to himself for now. “How much longer before you come home?”
“I’ll be there Friday night, and I thought we could have dinner on Saturday. It’s been a great trip, but I’m looking forward to seeing you.” Dante hesitated. “There are some things I think I need to tell you.” Dante’s voice grew softer, and even through a transatlantic connection, Beau could hear the worry.
“Just come home in one piece, and I’m looking forward to seeing you too. We can talk about whatever you want once you get here and have had a chance to rest.” He was so looking forward to seeing Dante and having him back. He’d lived a quiet life for a long time, and now that he had someone to share it with, or the beginnings… maybe, sort of… of someone in his life, he wanted them close.
“I will.” Dante yawned, and Beau told him to get some rest. Then he ended the call and tried to get his mind back on what he needed to.
His phone chirped with a message from Angie. Special council meeting next week to discuss sale. Wednesday @ 7:00. Will get message ready to go out tomorrow. Let’s mobilize the troops.
He answered her and then finished his dinner before settling on the sofa to rest and try to chill out.
THE DAYS inched by. Parents and other clients all asked about what was going to happen to the Center whenever they came in, and the entire staff reassured them as best they could before encouraging them to show up at the meeting. A lot of people said they would, but Beau knew agreeing to show up and actually making an appearance were two different matters.
By the time Friday arrived, Beau was on pins and needles. Dante texted him when he landed at Dulles and let him know that he was on his way to St. Giles, but the drive would take a few hours.
Do you want me to come see you? Beau texted back when Dante said he was just crossing the Bay Bridge a few hours later, which meant he was ten minutes or so away. It was after eight, and Beau had just finished eating a light dinner and had settled on the sofa.
His text went unanswered for a few minutes, but then his phone dinged. I’ll be out front in five.
Beau sat up and looked around for his shoes. His heart rate grew faster as the seconds ticked by. He hadn’t expected to go out, not really, and he needed to clean up. He hurried to the bathroom, washed as quickly as he could, brushed his teeth, and changed his shirt, ready for Dante when he arrived out front.
The back door of the limousine opened as Beau approached, and he climbed inside, pulling the door closed. He was immediately tugged down onto the seat. No words were spoken, but that was probably because Dante pulled him into a kiss that left Beau breathless, and he loved every second of it. His week had been horrendous, but it was immediately better now, with the tension melting away, replaced with a different kind of energy that thrummed through him in the best way possible.
“God, I missed you,” Dante whispered.
“Me too.” Beau sat back, not looking away from Dante as he recommitted his taste and the way his eyes darkened to memory once again. Beau still found it hard to believe that someone like Dante would find him attractive. But one thing he told the people he tried to help was to accept and enjoy the good things when they came, and he was determined to do that. “But your trip was worthwhile?”
Dante nodded. “I’ll tell you all about it, I promise.” He tugged Beau closer as the car pulled out and they glided through town. Dante kissed him again, and for a little while, Beau let go and just felt. It was what he needed right now. “Usually I love my trips overseas. No one there knows me as anything other than Dante, and there are no other expectations or pressures other than business. But this one was different.” Dante smiled. “I’ve never had someone to come home to before.”
Beau swallowed hard, closing his eyes, trying to decide if he wanted to ask the question that popped into his head. “What about with Allison?” He braced for Dante to pull away, but he held still, then tightened his hold on him.
“She was my wife, but we were more like friends than anything else. At least that’s how I looked at things. I traveled when I needed to, and she had her own life and activities. Well, that’s how I thought things were between us. That was the agreement we had when we arranged to marry.” Dante sighed softly. “While I was away, I decided to tell you about her and what happened between us. But I don’t want to do that tonight. I don’t have the energy or the patience for that right now.”
“I can understand that.” The car bounced and tilted slightly as they pulled into the driveway of Dante’s estate.
“Thank you, Juan,” Dante said through a break in the partition and then opened the door. He climbed out, not letting go of Beau’s hand, and led him through into the house, where Roberts met them in the hall. “When do you need to work tomorrow?” Dante asked.
“I have a session at eleven.”
Dante turned to Roberts. “We’ll have breakfast at nine.”
“Very good. I’ll arrange to have the luggage brought in, and I’ll take care of it in the morning so you aren’t disturbed.”
Dante nodded, and Beau smiled. “I appreciate your care.” He liked knowing that when he wasn’t around, someone watched out for Dante, even if that’s what he was paid to do.
Roberts didn’t seem to know what to say to that and nodded carefully. “You both have a good night.” He turned to leave the room as Dante tugged Beau up the stairs.
“I don’t think anyone has ever left him speechless before.” Dante sounded pleased.
“He does take care of you and looks after you all the time. And I don’t think a lot of what he does is really his job.” Beau paused at the top of the stairs. “I mean, does he ever sleep? He’ll make sure the luggage is inside and the dirty clothes in the laundry. He’ll lock up the house and check that it’s secure. Then he’ll go to bed and somehow he’ll be up in the morning before either of us to ensure that you have everyt
hing you need.” Beau stroked Dante’s cheek. “I know you see what people do around you, but sometimes you maybe take them for granted.”
“I don’t,” Dante said quietly. “I’m well aware of how lost I’d be without him. Hell, there have been times when I thought he was the only person I had in my corner.”
Beau nodded gently. It wasn’t his place to offer an opinion, and he’d probably already said too much on the subject. Not that he had strong disagreements.
Dante squeezed his hand and led him to his bedroom, pushed open the door, and stepped inside. He turned on the light beside the bed, the single bulb casting a gentle glow through the room.
“Do you need to clean up?”
Dante removed his jacket, laying it over the back of one of the chairs, and unbuttoned his shirt. “Yes. I’ve been cooped up in planes and cars for hours.” Shirtless, his skin glistening, Dante pulled him into a tight embrace. “How about you join me?” He yawned, which told Beau a great deal about just how tired Dante was and that it was likely that sleep was going to be the only activity happening in the bed.
“Go ahead and shower. I’ll ask Roberts about something light to eat, and then we can get you in bed.” Dante needed someone to care for him at the moment; the dark circles under his eyes told Beau that. He stroked Dante’s arm, the muscles rippling under his touch, weariness seeping into Dante, making his shoulders slump.
Beau left the room and found Roberts downstairs, taking care of the luggage. “Is there something light to eat?”
“Of course.” Roberts put the bag he was carrying next to the stairs. “I’ll bring something up in a few minutes if that’s all right.” He retrieved the second suitcase and closed the front door.
