by Trina Solet
Instead of worrying about why he was hired, Nate was curious about the vibe he got from both Brent Leighton and his assistant. His interest in Nate made it obvious that Brent was either gay or bi, but his assistant was reserved and businesslike and not as easy to read. Nate wondered if they were lovers.
Some of Nate's questions were answered when he arrived with his belongings in front of his new home and workplace. His beat up old Toyota Cressida parked in front of a house like that one made for a strange sight. Before Nate had a chance to knock on those giant, double doors, Brent opened the door eagerly. Behind him, John rolled his eyes. There was another man with them in the foyer. As Nate set his bags down, Brent did the introductions.
"As you know, this is my butler, Jonesey."
"I'm not your butler, and my name is John."
"This is Quincy, my driver and bodyguard."
Nate looked over at the man Brent had just introduced and waited for him to confirm or correct what Brent said about him. He did a little bit of both.
"It's Quin, and I'm only an unwilling bodyguard because everyone and their mother wants to beat his ass, starting with Jonesey here. Can't let the man who signs the paychecks get offed."
Based on the look on John's face, Nate decided that Quin might not be a source of reliable information either.
"I put the two of them together," Brent bragged.
Nate looked at Quin and John and wondered if they were a couple or if this was just more misinformation.
"You mean when you tried to get us both into bed for a threesome, and we told you where you could stick it?" John said.
"If only I could stick it up my own ass, I would be the happiest man in the world."
This kind of uncensored talk made Nate ask when the kids were due home. The only one who heard his question was Quin. He told Nate that he would be picking them up a little later. While Brent bickered with his assistant, Nate looked around. He was even more interested in his surroundings now that he was going to be living and working there. The place was both minimalist and opulent as one walked in, but the office had been inviting in its own way. The entry and a large open area beyond were decorated in a contrasting combination of wood stained a dark, coffee brown and furniture upholstered in creamy white. There were touches of smoky, dark gray glass. A geometric pattern was inset into the marble floor under his feet. Directly above him was that art deco, black crystal chandelier he had noticed before. There were art deco touches everywhere, but the style was eclectic overall. Nate wondered whose taste it reflected.
After introductions and bickering were over, Quin and John left, and Brent showed Nate to his room. As they went up the marble stairs, Nate admired the intricate detail in the wood of the railing while Brent admired him. The stairs ended at a circular loft that overlooked the entryway and its high windows. The upstairs had a more comfortable feel. The decor was still stylish in that subtle way that screams of great wealth but without the stark contrasts. The loft showed signs of use including an overturned cup and some toys under the furniture. From there Brent led him down an L-shaped hallway. The doors along the way had a geometric designs set into the lacquered wood. Nate counted at least six bedrooms. Hanging on the walls of the hallway were painted portraits of two children at different ages. Seeing Nate looking at them, Brent told him, "That's them. You notice that we couldn't get them to sit still."
Nate had noticed, and he didn't think that was a bad thing. He admired the way the children were captured while playing not sitting in some gaudy armchair. When they passed a set of open double doors leading into a large bedroom, Brent said, "That one is mine. As you can see, the door is always open." Brent tried to catch Nate's eyes with a leering look, but Nate just walked on down the hall.
Catching up to him, Brent pointed at the kids' rooms with less emphasis. A door across from the kids' rooms and next to Brent's was where they stopped. Nate's new bedroom was a good size but decorated way too fancy for Nate's taste, in pewtery gray and pale blue fabrics. The wood was very dark with the shimmer of hard candy. The style carried through into the bathroom. At least the bed was big and looked comfortable. It must have looked inviting to Brent as well. Instead of leaving him to unpack, Brent stretched out sideways on the bed. He looked far too comfortable and also attractive. Anybody would be crazy to ask him to leave when he looked that good on their bed. By lying there, it was like he was displaying himself for Nate. His long legs and the rest of his tightly muscled physique called to Nate like no other in recent memory. Though Brent was dressed in casual but, no doubt, expensive clothes, it was too easy to picture him naked, every muscle exercised to perfection.
When Nate set a stack of his boxers on the bed, Brent made a grab for them. Nate was faster though.
"Those aren't the ones I want to get my hands on anyway," Brent said.
Nate almost looked down at himself to make sure he was still dressed. The way Brent looked at him, you would think he was naked. As Nate turned away to put those boxers in a drawer, Brent sighed. Nate wasn't surprised to find that he was ogling his ass. Since Nate wasn't shy, he just shook his head and smiled.
"Did you see those two?" Brent said and actually made eye contact with Nate. "I thought I had it made when I hired John and Quin. But neither one of them did it with me even once before they hooked up with each other. Can you believe it? And John is so uptight, even Quin can't loosen him up. When they started shacking up, I thought at least I would be seeing a new and improved John. Nope. Same old John, always on my case." As Brent bitched, he spoke like he and Nate chatted all the time and hadn't just met a few days ago and not spoken two words since then.
"You were hoping for a sex induced personality transformation?" Nate said while he hung up his clothes. They didn't even come close to filling the closet.
"I hope you aren't going to disappoint me," Brent said and gave Nate a heavy lidded look.
"I'll do my best," Nate promised, "to take good care of the children."
Brent's expression became sulky, but he still looked too attractive to kick out.
"If I'm hearing you right, I will have to take a serious look at my hiring practices." Brent turned to lie on his back and look up at the ceiling. Following his gaze, Nate saw it was covered in metallic decorative tile with a small dome at the center of the ceiling. Lights were mounted around the edge. That probably made for a nice effect at night. Some people had money to burn.
As Nate looked at the ceiling, he considered Brent's problem from another angle.
"Maybe you're too good at finding the right people," Nate said just as Brent was getting up to leave.
He turned back to ask, "What does that mean?"
"That you end up doing your best despite your worst intentions. You might have hired me for the wrong reasons, but I plan to do a good job."
"I screwed myself again, is what you're saying?" Brent said not letting go of his main concern.
"I'm sure you get plenty of action elsewhere," Nate told him and looked him up and down to underscore his point. Rich and gorgeous, Brent wasn't getting any sympathy from him. "This way you can get some peace and quiet at home."
"Screw peace and quiet. I want a nonstop orgy."
"When are the kids getting picked up from school? I'd like to ride along," Nate said, partly to remind Brent of their existence.
"Talk to Quin. That's his department."
Since Brent gave him no directions before he left, Nate had to find his own way around. He wandered the halls, opening doors. He found an impressive gym and pictured Brent working out in it. After opening more doors, he stumbled into the garage. It looked more like a luxury car dealership. Nate wasn't a car guy so the only way he could recognize the make was to read the back. A Bentley and an Aston Martin were all he had time to admire before Quin came in.
"This is what you get to drive?" Nate asked him.
"I get my pick," Quin said. "Except for that last one. That one is Brent's."
"Is that a Range Rover?" Nate
asked, surprised at his choice.
"Yes. Right next to a Maserati. His daddy had a Range Rover. Brent is sentimental that way," Quin said with a shrug, then he pointed at a sleek, black number. "This baby is my favorite."
"Jaguar," Nate said as he admired it.
"That's right. A big, black cat."
"Sounds good. I'm coming with you," Nate told him.
"Just keep it in your pants. I'm spoken for and so is the car," Quin warned him as they got in.
Brent was right about Quin. He did look good in his dark sunglasses, sitting behind the wheel. But he didn't look like a chauffeur at all, and not just because he was dressed casually. Quin had a commanding presence and an easy confidence of a guy in charge. It was hard to believe that he worked for someone like Brent. Nate found him to be tough but easygoing. As he drove, he filled Nate in on a few things.
"John does the paperwork. I do the real work. And Brent..."
"Let me guess."
"That's right. He does no work. What I don't do is baby sit. No offence," he said with a sideways glance at Nate.
"It's not for everyone. No offence," Nate told him.
Quin chuckled then continued telling Nate how things worked.
"I drive the kids to and from school, that's it. But me and John were stuck babysitting for a while because Brent was dragging his feet hiring a nanny, until he had a look at you, that is." Quin looked him up and down appreciatively as they stopped at a red light.
Quin ranted a little about Brent, but he also gave out some useful information. He told Nate that Brent's wife, Greta, had died after a long battle with cancer. Nate wondered if Brent was bi since he was married to a woman. Quin told him that Brent ended up with nothing after his parents died. Though he was gay, he married Greta soon after.
"You do the math," Quin said.
From what Quin told him, Nate gathered that Brent was a party boy and a trophy husband, but now he was stuck with two kids. Nate was a little apprehensive about them. Was there any chance in hell they weren't spoiled?
About Ricky, Quin said, "That kid is alright. He's always up a tree or with his nose in a book. Or both. You'll spend all your time trying to keep Georgie from climbing up after him. That girl has no mercy. She's a little pest, and you'll be on pest control duty 24/7. I don't envy you. But Ricky doesn't really mind about her."
Quin told Nate that Ricky was Brent's stepson and that Brent had adopted him before his wife died. Ricky's father crashed his plane off the coast of Nova Scotia soon after Ricky was born. Ricky inherited some of his daredevil spirit. In Quin's opinion, that was what drove him to spend most of his time up one of the many old trees that made the grounds look like a forest.
"Greta liked them big and blond so the kid kind of looks like Brent, but he sure doesn't act anything like him," Quin said. "Georgie more than makes up for it. She's just like her daddy through and through. She's trouble."
"I'll watch out," Nate joked.
"Don't kid yourself. You're outmatched," Quin told him.
Nate was going to be able to judge for himself soon. Georgie was getting picked up first. She went to preschool then daycare. The daycare place might as well have been a gingerbread house. It was too cute to be real. In front, there was a white picket fence and flowerbeds in every color. Nate could see an elaborate playground in the back. The building itself was white with pink and blue trim and precious in every detail. It could have been made of sugar cubes and whipped cream.
As Georgie climbed in and Quin secured her in her seat, he told her, "Hey, G, you know who this guy is? He's the new nanny. What do you think of that?"
Her thoughts on the subject were summed up with an eager little "Hi, new nanny!"
Nate stayed turned toward her so they could get to know each other. She was four, and had dark, mischievous eyes and dark blond hair. Nate told her his name. She said, "Hi, Nate." When she said her own name, she didn't bother with the r. She chattered and Nate caught about every other word.
Ricky's school was the next stop. Georgie waved out the window as soon as she spotted her brother. He was seven, and just like Quin said, he resembled Brent, at least from a distance. On closer look, Nate could tell that the resemblance was only superficial. He was Georgie's opposite, but he was cute in his own, more reserved way. As soon as he got in, Georgie asked him, "Did you bring me anything?"
"No." Ricky sounded dour as he answered her, like he knew that this was just the beginning of an endless barrage of questions.
"Candy?"
"No. That only happened one time."
"Did you paint me a drawing?"
"You don't paint a drawing. You paint a painting. You draw a drawing."
"Did you?"
"No."
"Give it a rest, G. These two guys need to get acquainted," Quin said to put a stop to her pestering.
"That's Nanny Nate," Georgie said to her brother and pointed at Nate.
Nate knew he had to nip that in the bud before he was stuck with that as his new name.
"Honey, you won't be calling me that. Just Nate," Nate told her firmly then he turned to Ricky.
"Hi, Ricky. As you heard, I'm Nate."
Ricky looked at Nate curiously. After the introductions, Quin had to prompt him, "Say hi to the man."
Ricky did. After his initial staring, he only looked at Nate when Nate wasn't looking at him. But unlike Georgie, he answered all his questions about school thoroughly. Nate had a feeling he was going to like this kid.
When they arrived back at the house, Brent was waiting at the front door. Georgie ran into her father's arms as he called her "My girl". Ricky came up the front steps slowly, almost sullenly. Brent greeted him with "And my boy" and brushed the top of his head with his hand as he passed by wordlessly. Nate made a mental note to teach that boy some manners.
Brent had no instructions to give Nate, but Ricky was willing to fill him in on their routine. The first order of business was a snack. Nate got his first look at the huge kitchen that would be a dream come true to someone who actually cooked. The counter was black marble delicately veined with white. The cabinets were almond white and stretched to the ceiling. The oversized appliances looked professional but with a vintage flavor. While he admired the kitchen, Georgie tried to convince him that ice cream was on the menu.
The kitchen was impressive, but it wasn't exactly well stocked. There were several jars of peanut butter though. More than one had been opened. Nate sandwiched some crackers with peanut butter and banana slices. Then he crossed his fingers hoping that the kids would actually eat it. Georgie gobbled them up. Ricky was more cautious but ate his too. He also informed Nate that Georgie would eat anything with peanut butter.
Next it was homework time. Nate watched over the kids as they sat at the breakfast table. Out the windows that almost surrounded the kitchen, Nate could see a wrought iron table and chairs sitting right on the grass. If they ate out there when the weather was nice, it would minimize clean up. Nate also made some plans for the other work he needed to do. Monday, he would be starting at his second job, and he was looking forward to it. Just as Nate was going over his schedule in his head, Brent came to join him. Leaning against the kitchen counter next to Nate, Brent looked him over thoroughly. Nate pretended to ignore the visual strip search.
"I remember you had some academic excuse for taking this job. Does that mean you are an egghead because you don't look like one?" Brent asked like he knew what had Nate preoccupied.
"I'm a part time egghead. I took a break for a year and a half so I could earn some money. I would be an egghead full time, but I need a job that actually pays the bills. And right now, I need to live in Bridgegrove somehow. If I lived anywhere else, the commute would be murder, and my car is crap."
As Ricky did his homework, and Georgie drew random squiggles in imitation, Nate elaborated on what he had told Brent and John at the interview.
Nate was working on his masters in history, and he had stumbled onto an opportunity he
couldn't miss. While tracking down some original sources from the Revolutionary War, he learned about a private collection of documents from that period. It belonged to the late Professor Lester Pullman. After he died in the 1980's, it was all but forgotten and neglected at his house in Bridgegrove. Nate visited the house and found that Professor Pullman's elderly daughter now lived there. He offered to organize her father's papers for her and also use his collection to write his master's dissertation. But he needed to live in that area to be close to the house of the late professor.
"I figured a job that came with room and board would kill two birds with one stone," Nate told Brent. "I'm working on my M.A. in American History. Just started, really. And Professor Pullman's archive can help me. It's something else. He was well-off, and he could spend serious money on buying old journals, letters, documents relating to the Revolutionary War. His daughter didn't even know what she had. She's in her seventies, a nice lady. I made a deal with her. I would put the papers in order in exchange for a small fee and access to his materials for my own research for my thesis. She is going to donate a lot of it, but she wants to keep the professors own writing for possible publication. I have to sort through all that."
"Boring and boring," Brent said. But from his expressive eyes, it was clear that he had listened to everything Nate said very attentively.
"It's not boring to me."
"So when do you plan to do all this boring stuff?" Brent wanted to know.
"During my time off. When the kids are at school and daycare. And don't forget, I have night classes three times a week," Nate reminded him. This was all discussed at the interview, and Brent had agreed to the terms.
