Broken Wings

by Bethany Brown

  “You almost fainted.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Maybe I should wait outside?”

  “I think that might be a good idea.”

  “Sorry, Brad.”

  “That’s okay, Graham. I forgot how much you disliked needles.” Brad gave him a soft smile. “We’ll see you when we’re done.”

  “Okay.” Graham gave Brad a wave before heading out of the room. He made his way back to the main part of the shop. He headed straight to one of the couches and sat down with a sigh.

  “Do you need a glass of water?”

  Graham lifted his head to see the blue-haired girl standing in front of him. “I’m sorry?”

  “I was just wondering if you wanted a glass of water.”

  “That would be great.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Graham leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He opened them when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. “Thanks,” he said, taking the water. “I never learned what your name was.”

  “I’m Gwen. What’s your name?”

  “Graham.” He took a sip of water before placing the glass on the table. “Do you get a lot of people like me in here?”

  “Short Asian men?” Gwen gave him a bright grin.

  “Funny. No. I meant friends who come for moral support and end up almost fainting.”

  “We get more than you would think. How far did you get?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “How far did you get before you fainted?”

  “Penn picked up the tattoo gun.”

  Gwen laughed. “Did he turn it on?”

  “No. I’m pretty sure he just picked it up.” Graham groaned and let his head fall back against the couch again. “God, I am such a wuss.”

  “I’m sure you have some good qualities.”

  “Thanks. I think,” he replied. Graham felt his lips twitch in a grin as Gwen laughed. “Is this part of your job?”

  “What?”

  “Making the weaklings feel better.”

  “Hey, we had a guy throw up on Penn once. You’re doing much better than him.”

  “I guess I can live with that.” Graham smiled at Gwen. It was a fairly slow day at the shop—at least Graham assumed that it was slow—and Gwen spent the time he was waiting chatting with him. By the time Penn, Patrick, and Brad reappeared, Graham and Gwen had moved on to horrible dating stories.

  “We’re done,” Brad announced.

  “How did it go?”

  “It wasn’t as painful as I thought it was going to be.”

  “So it didn’t hurt?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Brad answered with a laugh. Graham laughed and climbed to his feet. He took a moment to look over Brad. His friend seemed a tad paler than he had been before, but he was smiling. The tattoo seemed to have chased some of the grief from his eyes.

  “So, are we leaving now?”

  “Yep.” Brad turned to Penn and shook his hand. “Thank you, Penn.”

  “It was my pleasure. Have a safe drive home.” Penn turned to Graham and grinned at him. “If you ever decide to get a tattoo, I’ll do it for free.”

  “Thanks, but there’s no chance that I’ll change my mind.” Graham nodded at the taller man and then left the shop. When he reached his car, he leaned against it and waited for the others. They came out holding hands. Graham wasn’t sure if he wanted to grin at them or throw up. Sometimes they were too cute for the general public.

  “You’ll call me when you and Graham get back home?” Patrick asked. “Just leave a message in case I’m on the plane by then.”

  “Only if you promise to call when you get back to Ontario.”

  “The two of you are gross.” Graham made a gagging face when they looked over at him.

  “You’re just jealous, Small Fry,” Patrick replied. He grinned at Graham before pulling Brad into what looked to be a ravenous kiss. Graham felt a small surge of jealousy. He really needed to get laid.

  “Are the two of you done yet? If not, I’m going to start selling tickets.”

  “That would be a good way to make money,” Patrick answered with a laugh. He pulled away from Brad and took Graham’s hand. “Despite the circumstances, it was nice to finally meet you.”

  “Same here. Have a safe trip home.”

  “Thanks. You drive safe.”

  “I will. Bye, Patrick.” Graham gave Patrick’s hand a final squeeze before getting behind the wheel of his car. He watched from inside the car as Brad and Patrick said their goodbyes. When Brad finally climbed into the car, Graham pretended not to notice that his eyes were damp. “So, ready to head home?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Brad sighed as he leaned back against his seat.

  “You can call him when we get there.”

  “Does it make me a sap to say that I miss him already?”

  “Considering that his car hasn’t even pulled away yet, yes, it does.”

  “So I’m a sap?”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I guess I can live with that.”

  Graham laughed. “Come on, sap, let’s head home.” Graham put the car in gear and started the drive home. He hoped that Brad wouldn’t spend too much time moping. There was only so much he could take before he would be forced to throw a glass of water in Brad’s face.

  PATRICK pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head as he stepped into the lobby of Harris Industries. He looked around the lobby and nodded in approval. They had done some redecorating since the last time he had been there. Patrick walked over to the reception desk and waited for the young blonde woman behind the desk to notice him. She appeared to be talking to someone on the phone. The nametag on her shirt read “Cheryl.”

  When she finally spotted him, she gave an annoyed sigh. “Hang on, Lisa, there’s someone hovering at the desk.” She pulled the phone away from her mouth. “Welcome to Harris Industries,” she chirped in an overly bubbly voice. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Asher Brandt.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “Just tell him that Patrick Hawkins is here to see him.”

  “I’m sorry. You can’t see Mr. Brandt without an appointment.” The look that Cheryl gave him said she wasn’t sorry at all. In fact, the look said that she was thinking of calling security on him. She sneered slightly and turned her attention back to her phone call. That would teach Patrick to wear jeans and a leather jacket to an office building. Of course he had only packed the one suit and he hadn’t felt like wearing it on a plane. Plus, he was pretty sure that the suit was dirty. And it was definitely wrinkled.

  “You’re new, aren’t you?” Patrick smiled at her in an attempt to cover his annoyance. The old receptionist, Dana, had known to send him right up whenever he showed up. Dana had even given him cookies when he visited. Patrick had a feeling that Cheryl wasn’t going to give him cookies.

  Cheryl rolled her eyes and followed the motion with a glare. “The fact that I’m new doesn’t change your need for an appointment. So get one, and come back later.”

  “Why don’t you just call Mitchell, Asher’s assistant, and tell him that Patrick is here to see Asher?”

  “Why would I do that?” Cheryl’s eyes roamed over him once more. “I doubt that knowing your name will make Mr. Brandt want to see someone who looks like they rolled out of bed and decided to come to an office building.”

  Patrick bristled as he finally snapped. No more nice Patrick. “Because I’m asking you to. Or do you not have Mitchell’s number? Are you too low on the food chain to be able to contact the people who are important?”

  Cheryl turned bright red in anger and glared at him. “When Mr. Porter tells me that you can’t see Mr. Brandt without an appointment, I’m going to call security and have them remove you.”

  “Whatever makes you happy.” Patrick flashed her a grin as she reached for the phone. The increased hostility in
Cheryl’s glare caused Patrick to assume that what would make her happy would not be very comfortable for him.

  Patrick watched as Cheryl made the call. The hostility on her face slowly faded to a look of horror. The blush of her anger was replaced with an almost deathly pallor. She really didn’t look very good. In fact—if the sudden unshed tears were any indication—she looked like someone in the process of a verbal dressing down. By the time she hung up the phone, she looked like she might need to be committed. Or that she was possibly going to vomit on his shoes.

  “Y-you can g-go right up, M-Mr. Hawkins.” Cheryl looked up at him with fearful eyes. Patrick would bet good money that she was going to start crying the minute he left.

  “Thank you, Cheryl,” Patrick replied. He had to stop himself from grinning as she whimpered when he said her name. Patrick gave her a nod before he headed to the hallway behind her. Once down the hall, he got onto the elevator and hit the button for the seventh floor. When the doors opened, there was a man waiting for him.

  He was shorter than Patrick, coming in at five foot eleven inches, although his stylish shoes put him closer to six feet. He was wearing a moderately expensive suit and his brown hair was neatly styled. A pair of silver-framed glasses perched over gray eyes. The overall effect of his appearance made him seem nonthreatening, but Patrick knew otherwise. Mitchell Porter spoke four languages, could read seven, and knew more about Harris Industries than most of the other employees combined. He was the perfect assistant for the CEO.

  “Mitchell, you didn’t have to meet me at the elevator.”

  “Please, after that woman gave you a hard time? Of course I did. I didn’t want you to have any more problems.”

  “Unless you replaced Mary, I wouldn’t have had any trouble once I got up here,” Patrick replied. He stepped forward and shook Mitchell’s hand. Mary was the floor receptionist for the seventh floor.

  “We’d never replace Mary. If we replaced Mary, we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves.” Mitchell smiled at the woman in question as they passed her. She gave them a small wave before turning all of her attention back to the phone call she was on.

  “What happened to Dana?”

  “Maternity leave. Cheryl was the smartest of the women that we interviewed.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Hey, the first replacement kept hanging up on people every time that she put them on hold. Dana is no longer allowed to do interviews while she has baby brain.”

  Patrick was laughing when they reached Asher’s office. Mitchell let him into the outer office then tapped on the inner doors twice. After that, he went and sat behind his desk.

  “Does he know I’m here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he in a good mood?”

  “He always seems to be in a good mood when you’re here, Patrick.”

  “That’s because I’m awesome.”

  “And oh so modest,” Mitchell replied. Patrick laughed as he pulled open Asher’s door and stepped inside. The man in question stood from behind his desk, crossed the room, and pulled Patrick into a hug.

  Asher released the hug and smiled at him. “You look great, Patrick.”

  Patrick stepped back and took a moment to look Asher over. They were about the same height, but Asher was slightly broader through the shoulders. Patrick knew from previous visits that Asher spent time in the company gym, so his tailored suit fit a toned body. Asher was only thirty-eight, but Patrick could see some gray mixed in with his dark brown hair, mostly around the temples. Patrick liked it. It made Asher look distinguished. His hazel eyes were as full of good cheer as they always were.

  “You look pretty damn good yourself, Ash.”

  “It’s not nice to lie.”

  Patrick gave his friend a shove. “I’m not lying.”

  “Patrick, I’m going gray.”

  “It looks good on you.” Patrick reached out and touched one of the small gray patches. “Very distinguished. I like it.”

  “Well, I’m glad that someone likes my hair.” Asher gave Patrick’s cheek a gentle pat before he made his way to the couch situated against one wall of his office. “Not that I don’t love seeing you, but why are you here, Pat?”

  Patrick sighed and flopped onto the couch. Instead of sitting next to Asher, he curled up on the couch with his head in Asher’s lap. The older man’s fingers automatically began to stroke his hair. They had spent hours sitting just like this after Patrick’s grandmother had died. It seemed as though every time they had a serious conversation it happened while Patrick’s head was in Asher’s lap.

  “I’m guessing this is going to be a serious conversation?”

  “Brad’s grandmother died.”

  “Ah, I see. Bringing up memories?”

  “A few, but I can handle that.”

  “Then what’s bothering you?”

  “What would you say if I told you I was thinking of becoming more active in the running of Harris Industries?” The fingers in his hair stilled.

  “Are you serious?”

  “I love him, Asher. I don’t think I can keep doing the long-distance thing. It hurts too much when I wake up and he’s not there.”

  “Okay.” Asher’s fingers began to run through his hair again. “But do you really want to start working here? You love being a cop.”

  “I’m getting tired of being shot.” Patrick sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to die on him.”

  “Couldn’t you join the local force? I doubt you’ll get shot out there.”

  “I could. I’m just not sure that I want to. I mean, I love being a cop, I really do, but it might be nice to have a job that will just let me go home at the same time every day.”

  “Plus, if you work here, you won’t have to be in all of the time. We could work out a nice schedule for you.”

  “That would be fun. Would I be able to fire the really bad receptionist?”

  Asher laughed. “Well, you already own the company. You could fire her now if you really want to.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but you’d have to hire her replacement.”

  “That doesn’t sound fair.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who’s in charge.” Asher gave Patrick’s head a slight nudge. “Sit up for a minute.”

  Patrick sighed, pulled himself into a sitting position, and turned so he was facing Asher. “What’s up?”

  “I would love to have you here, but I want you to really think about the decision that you’re making. Right now you’re all upset because the man you love is hurting. I don’t want you making a rash decision that you’ll regret.” Asher held up a hand when Patrick opened his mouth to protest. “I know that you’re still going to move out here. I can see that in your eyes. I just want you to think really hard about what you want to do career-wise. Plus, you do know that you don’t really have to work, don’t you?”

  “I like keeping busy.”

  Asher laughed. “I can understand that. Hell, you’ve never been one to just sit back and relax.”

  “Thanks.”

  “For what?” Asher gave him a lopsided grin. “I don’t really think that I did anything that I need to be thanked for.”

  “It was nice just to have someone to listen to me.”

  “I guess I can give you that one,” Asher responded. “So, do you have a flight to catch or can you spare some time for lunch?”

  Patrick looked down at his watch. “I really should get to the airport.”

  “All right. Promise to call if you need to talk?” Asher got to his feet and held out a hand. Patrick accepted it and found himself pulled to his feet. He ended up nearly bouncing off of Asher’s chest. Asher was stronger than he looked.

  “I’ll call. Damn, Ash, I don’t remember you being this strong before.”

  “I may have been working out a bit more. We’ve been ordering lunches.”

  “I think it has more to do with the guy who delivers the lunches,” Mitchell commented, walking into the r
oom.

  “I can fire you,” Asher threatened.

  “Please. You would be lost without me.”

  “Why are you in here?”

  “I came to ask if you wanted to order lunch.”

  Patrick grinned as a flush appeared on Asher’s face. “I’m really starting to wish that I was able to stay for lunch. Especially if this delivery guy has Asher so rattled.”

  “He’s pretty cute.”

  “Would the two of you stop acting like I’m not in the room?” Asher demanded. Patrick was actually expecting him to stomp his foot and cross his arms. He’d never seen Asher so worked up over a guy before.

  “Sorry. Well, I’ve really got to head out.” Patrick leaned over and pressed a kiss to Asher’s cheek. “Thanks for listening.”

  “Not a problem. Have a safe trip home.”

  Patrick held out a hand to Mitchell. “It was good to see you again.”

  “Likewise.” Mitchell returned the shake. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Thanks.” Patrick followed Mitchell out of the office. “So, what’s this guy like? The one that Asher seems to be so smitten with.”

  “He seems nice. He’s a little shy, but his eyes light up when Asher smiles at him, so I’m thinking there may be some mutual attraction there.”

  “Good. Am I right in assuming that it’s been a while since he had a date?”

  “You are,” Mitchell answered. They had reached the elevator. “So, you’re thinking of coming to work here?”

  “I am.”

  “If you decide that you want to, let me know. Whatever you do, do not let Asher hire an assistant for you. He’s horrible.”

  “He hired you.”

  “I threatened all of the other applicants. I basically hired myself.”

  Patrick laughed. “Good to know. Take care, Mitchell.”

  “You too.” Mitchell smiled at him as Patrick got into the elevator. He grinned to himself as he rode the elevator to the main floor. So Asher had a crush. Interesting.

  The doors opened on the main floor and Patrick stepped out. When he passed the front desk, he gave a red-eyed Cheryl a grim smile of satisfaction. It might have been petty for him to feel so good about how bad Cheryl was feeling, but she had been rude to him and sometimes he enjoyed being petty.