“We’re not talking about socio-economic or regional differences,” he warns. “We’re talking about me watching Live Aid on TV and sulking because my parents caught me trying to sneak out to hitchhike there with my friends, while for you, it’s something you studied in school.”
I decide not to mention that we barely even studied it. His meaning is pretty clear, but it doesn’t change my mind. “What that means is that there are going to be things we see from a different perspective. That’s not a bad thing. We’ll find out as we go if it’s something we can’t deal with.” I raise an eyebrow and wait for his nod before continuing. “If you’re worried that I have a daddy kink or something, don’t.”
He suddenly looks incredibly vulnerable. “It’s… it didn’t escape me yesterday that your mom is only a little older than me.”
“I’ll tell her you said that; she’ll be thrilled.” I smirk. “Mom’s sixty-seven, and Dad’s nearly seventy. Sure, you’re closer in age to them than me, but I don’t think of you as being a parental figure—or even as being in their age bracket.” I lean forward and kiss him. “This honestly is not weird for me. Our ages are not a factor here. You’re just a smart, handsome, talented guy who I’m attracted to.” I kiss him again, and he grins against my mouth.
“I guess I’m okay with that.”
***
My fingers itch to smack the smirk off Trav’s face. I’d regret it, of course, because Trav’s a good friend, but there would also be the satisfaction of wiping away that smirk.
“Let me make sure I understand,” he says, sounding insufferably amused. “You and Jase hooked up. Despite the fact that you’re now in the position to live out every workplace porno ever made, you’ve made a strict pact to keep all personal interaction out of the office. And you want me to act as your safety net-slash-referee.”
“It’s not a pact,” I mutter, “and we just want you to warn us if you think we’re letting our personal stuff affect work, not be a referee.” Jesus, what would he even be refereeing?
I deliberately don’t let myself think about the whole workplace porno thing. Well, not much, anyway.
“Of course it’s a pact. You both agreed to do something. That’s a pact.”
“Stop calling it a pact. It’s not a pact. It’s just an agreement.”
“Sure.” His tone says more clearly than anything else that he’s still thinking of it as a pact. I think that irritates me more than the smirk did.
There’s really no reason for me to be irritated. In the four days since Jason and I first hooked up, we’ve been fucking like bunnies. I’m so blissed-out sated that most of the time I float around with a stupid-ass smile on my face. And so far, we’ve been totally succeeding at keeping sexy times out of the office. We (eventually) talked it out and decided we weren’t going to do anything as “formal” as dating, but that this was more than just fucking. No sex, groping, kissing, or personal stuff during work—although we agreed that short conversations along the lines of “my place tonight” or “what do you want for dinner” were okay—and it was Jase’s idea to ask Trav if he’d pull us up if we slipped.
Wait—if it was his idea, how did I end up being the one who had to ask?
Pushing the thought aside for now, I say, “So? Will you?”
“Of course, but I don’t think you guys will have any issues.” He grins broadly. “Congrats, by the way. I wondered if there was something there, but you’re both fucking closed books.”
“To each other, as well,” I muttered. “Uh… could you maybe keep this to yourself?” The gossip circuit at JU is highly developed, and I’d really rather not be fodder for it.
The look Trav gives me tells me I’m shit out of luck. “I’m telling Derek,” he insists, and I nod, because I never expected to keep this secret from Derek. “You know it’s going to get out,” he warns.
“It’s probably already out, but I just haven’t heard the rumors yet.” That makes me feel rather glum.
“Are we ready?” Jason calls as he comes across the theater to where we’re standing. I guess lunch break is over.
“We’re ready,” Trav confirms, and we take our seats again as John goes to call in the next lot of performers.
It’s day one of auditions, and so far things are going really well. We have to do these auditions in stages throughout the week, since the performers are all JU employees who have shifts in the parks, but the scheduling turned out to be less of a challenge than I’d expected. And the turnout has been great—not everyone is interested, of course, but the numbers align with what I projected. Trav and I have our secret wish list of performers for the major roles, but Jason just rolls his eyes and insists he doesn’t want to know so his decision making won’t be influenced. He’s so adorable when he’s pretending to be exasperated.
Er. I didn’t just say that. Working hours. Sorry.
Anyway, we’re already building a short list of people to call back for a second audition. Watching the performers, I can finally let go of the final niggle I had about Walk of Life. There was a secret part of me, way deep down inside, that still wanted to produce it for our debut show, no matter how logical and sensible I was being about giving it up for Out of Line. But now I can see that Jase and Trav were right. We have some amazingly talented young performers, but the key word there is young. They haven’t had time yet to develop the performance maturity they would need for a show like Walk of Life. Out of Line will give them the opportunity to exercise their ability while still letting us put on a brilliant show.
By the time the end of the day rolls around, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction—and a minor dread. The satisfaction is because the auditions went really well. The dread is because Kiara sent me a message and wants me to nag Jason into picking an assistant. The original plan had been for recruitment to begin in the new year, but she apparently didn’t have enough to keep her occupied over the Christmas break and not only assigned a new recruiter to the job, but that recruiter—Sean, who is scarily efficient, even for me—has already rescreened the previous applicants and picked some contenders that the old recruiter discarded despite their being qualified. From the undertones of the message, I got the impression that the recruiter had some definite prejudices and is now unemployed.
Sean sent the newly selected candidate applications to Jason this morning, at which point Jason thanked him politely but said he was too busy this week to look at them and would get back to him in the new year—which is three days away. That’s apparently not good enough for Kiara, and I’m not fool enough to argue with her.
So now, as Trav gets up and gathers his things, I clear my throat. “Jase, can you hang around a second? I need to talk to you.”
He looks a little surprised but shrugs and settles back in his seat. Trav smirks. “I guess it’s after hours, but no funny business in the theater. I’m counting it as part of the office.”
I flip him the bird, and he laughs as he leaves.
“What’s up?” Jason asks. There’s a sparkle in his eye that tells me he’s considering “funny business.”
“Have you looked at the assistant applications yet?”
The sparkle disappears, and I hate that I did that. My job should be to put it there, not take it away. Maybe we can bend the rules and “christen” the stage?
I push the thought aside. That’s an idea for later—if I can overcome my own conscience.
“You need the help, Jase. Leaving them for later won’t change anything.” I try to sound gentle without being condescending. I don’t blame him for being a bit nervy about this, but he does need an assistant.
He sighs. “Yeah. I know. Today’s been busy, but I could probably have made time. I’ll do it now.” He’s distinctly unenthused.
“Want me to help?” It might mean being late to Monday night dinner, but I’m willing to do that if it makes Jason happy again.
He brightens. “Would you?”
“Sure.”
He pulls out his tablet and with a few taps manages to bring up the applications. He’s really mastering the JU app.
Sean has sent four applications, and they all look good. We scan them to see if there’s anything obvious that would disqualify the candidates, but there isn’t, so we go back to review more thoroughly. Jase makes notes on the first two, but I can tell he’s not particularly excited about either. The third one is going much the same way until I see a note about part-time work the applicant has done recently, and something clicks in my head. “Oh, this is Chloe. You met her at the Christmas party, remember? She worked for my mom whenever she was home on break from school.”
He pauses in the middle of making a note and skims back to the top of the form to read her name. “This is Chloe? Tall, blunt-spoken, dresses like a pinup and has tattoos?”
I look at him. “Why do you seem surprised?”
“I shouldn’t be—shame on me for passing judgment. Her education is fantastic. You’re right, I liked her. Do you think she’d fit with the team?”
I consider it. “Yeah, but I don’t know her that well, so don’t decide to see her based on my opinion. Want me to ask my mom?”
He nods. “Please. I’ll get Sean to set up an interview anyway, though.” He flips to the next application and makes a face. “I may as well interview all of them. Sean seems to know his stuff, and I’m just wasting both our time sitting here. It’s going to come down to personal impressions.”
“Probably,” I agree. “But it’s not a waste of time.”
His smile is indulgent and loving. “You need to get to dinner with your family. I can do this on my own. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“Are you sure?” He’s right, but….
He kisses me quickly, so quickly I don’t even have time to enjoy it.
“Hey, that was barely a real kiss!”
“Which means it doesn’t break the rules.” He winks.
Who can argue with that?
***
I’m only a little bit late for dinner—everyone’s just settling in at the table when I get to the house. Mom raises an eyebrow at me but only says, “If you want beer, it’s in the fridge.”
“Nope, I’m good with water,” I tell her, detouring to drop a kiss on her cheek before I slide into my chair. Brody, beside me, passes me the green beans, smirking like an idiot. His school doesn’t go back until next week, so we’re unfortunately stuck with him until then. Fortunately, though, the rest of our visiting sibs have gone home, so he’s out of my place and staying here with Mom and Dad as of this morning.
The smirk is worrying, though. It means he’s probably planning to mention the fact that I pretty much abandoned him and Mike and disappeared from my own home for four days. That’s the kind of thing the simpleton does—it doesn’t occur to him that I will exact revenge.
We get about halfway through dinner on pleasant conversation before Gram asks me if I took any real time off or just went right back to work after Christmas. “Don’t be that ‘all work and no play’ cliché, Dimitri,” she warns, and I groan internally because she’s just given Brody the perfect opening.
“You don’t need to worry about Dimi, Gram,” he announces gleefully. Could he be any more of a child? I shoot Patrick a look. Clearly we failed in our responsibilities as older brothers if he’s still this dumb. “He’s been playing plenty since Christmas.”
There’s a momentary lull as conversation and movement cease. Heads turn in our direction, expressions a mix of surprise and sheer dumbfoundedness, because nobody can really believe the simpleton just made a sexual innuendo about me to Gram. She’s never been prudish, but some things you just don’t say to your grandmother at the dinner table. Even the kids have gone quiet, no doubt sensing the mood.
Brody, of course, is the only one who’s oblivious. “When a man doesn’t come home for four days except to pack a bag real quick, you’ve gotta assume he’s having a real good time, am I right?”
Patrick shakes his head slowly. “Did we drop you on your head too many times when you were a baby?”
“What?” he protests, all wounded innocence. I really want to pinch him, but with all eyes on us, Mom would never let me get away with it.
Fuck my life. I’m twenty-nine years old, forging ahead in my career, respected at work… and reduced to wanting to pinch my younger brother at the dinner table.
“I’m just saying, it’s good to know Dimi’s not a complete workaholic. He’s just as capable as anyone of having a four-day sex marathon.”
I give in to temptation and pinch him. Hard. Luckily, everyone is too busy telling him what an idiot he is to notice. He glares at me, rubbing his arm, but from experience knows better than to try pinching back. At least I managed to drum something into his head while he was growing up.
Finally, Gram’s voice rises above all the rest. “All right, we’ve wasted enough time talking about this. Brody, if your brother had wanted to share about his personal life, I’m sure he would have. It’s not your job to do it for him.” The look she levels at him has him squirming in his chair. He mutters an apology, and the room falls silent for a few glorious moments as we resume eating.
Until a little voice says, “Uncle Dimi, what’s a sex marathon?”
Chapter Nine
Jason
I think I’ve already mentioned that Dimi could probably take over the world if he wanted to, right? Well, the person at his right hand would be Sean, the recruiter assigned to find me an assistant. I didn’t send him a message about setting up interviews until after six last night, but when I checked the app at seven this morning, he’d sent me the schedule of interviews… all for today. It’s New Year’s Eve!
So now I’m sitting in my office, three interviews down, feeling a little more confident about it all. The candidates were good, professional, and easy to talk to, and when I made a point of saying I was gay—which I’ve never done before during a hiring process, and frankly, it made me feel a little dirty—one blinked and said, “I don’t know how you want me to respond to that—um… that’s nice?” Another grimaced and replied, “Coming out all the time is a bitch, isn’t it?” And the third smiled and said, “Cool. Is there a significant other who gets access to you at all times, no matter what you’re doing?” My takeaway from that is that Sean did a thorough job of screening.
John, who has been single-handedly doing the tasks that he should be sharing with my assistant, including acting as receptionist, knocks lightly on the door and sticks his head in. “The last applicant is here.”
“Thanks, John.” I owe the guy a bonus.
He disappears, and a moment later, the door opens properly and Chloe walks in. Her dress this time is blue and has cap sleeves, but the style is similar to what she was wearing at the holiday party, and her smile is just as friendly. I get up and walk around the desk to shake her hand.
“Hi, Chloe. Nice to see you again.” It really is.
“Nice to see you, too. I was kind of surprised when Sean called.”
I blink, a little taken aback. “Why?”
She shrugs. “The woman who interviewed me the first time made it clear that I didn’t meet JU’s hiring standards. Did you have Sean call me because we met at Christmas?”
Not for the first time, I curse the recruiter who got me into this mess. “Partly,” I admit. “But I didn’t know you’d applied until Sean sent me your résumé. We had some… difficulty with the original recruiter, and when Sean took over, he rescreened all the applications. I was glad to see yours, but you’re not the only person I’ve interviewed today.” I match her bluntness with my own—I get the feeling she’ll respect that, and if we’re going to work together, I need someone I can be totally honest with. That’s my New Year’s resolution, by the way. I’m taking back my confiden
ce. The ex-who-shall-not-be-named left me feeling insecure and shaken—that’s my fault. He was a dick at the end, but I let his words and actions get to me and crack my confidence. That’s done now. No more second-guessing myself.
Chloe nods, seemingly satisfied, and I gesture toward the couch. It might be more “appropriate” to hold job interviews at the desk, but I decided not to. I’m starting my interactions with my prospective assistant, whoever I choose, the same way I plan to manage our working relationship.
We sit, and it takes only a few minutes for me to confirm what I suspected all along—Chloe would be the perfect assistant for me. She’s qualified, has some experience in administration, but more to the point, is used to dealing with people. And most importantly of all, we get along. Her candid, open manner and ability to go with the flow are exactly what I need. Plus, she has tech skills that I do not. I may be much better at using the JU app now, but I still manage to screw it up sometimes.
She’s just asking me about what her duties would be when there’s a brief knock and Dimi opens the door and leans in.
“Hey, Jase— Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were still interviewing. Hi, Chloe. How’re you doing?”
I concentrate on keeping the fatuous smile off my face, since I don’t want to seem like an adolescent in the throes of a crush. He just looks so good, dressed casually and slightly rumpled.
“I’m good, thanks, Dimi. You?”
“Yeah, great. I’ll leave you to it. Jase, can I have a word when you’re done? It’s not urgent.”
“Sure. We won’t be much longer.”
He smiles at us both and then withdraws, closing the door. Chloe turns to me and tilts her head, narrowing her eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. You were saying I’d need to share receptionist duties with John?”
By the time I walk Chloe out, I’m pretty sure she’s the right choice. The other candidates are all great, but she and I really click. I’m feeling peppy about it as I knock on the open door to Dimi’s office.
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