Evan

by Allie K. Adams

  “Caramel latte.” Even saying it made him sound foofy. Why didn’t he go with drip this morning?

  “I’m more of a drip man myself.”

  “Me, too.” He caught himself grinning and quickly dropped his smile. “Back to the original question. Why are you taking names?”

  “Don’t forget the kicking asses part.” When he licked his lips, Evan nearly came undone right there. He pulled his control in as best he could and cleared his throat once again. Coming to his senses, he glanced at his watch and cursed inwardly. The store didn’t open for another ten minutes, leaving them alone for at least nine of them before his coworker showed up.

  Wait. The store wasn’t open. He glanced around, recognizing the other employees on the floor, but seeing no other unwelcome visitors. He regarded Duke. “How’d you get in here?”

  He held up a shiny new key. Of course, Clint Duke would have a key to Kelley’s, just like he had a key to every elite attraction in Seattle. He probably slept with the CEO’s niece to get it.

  He ignored the way his body warmed to the thought of Duke doing more than grazing him with that diabolical gaze, tempting him with a talented touch, forcing Evan to give in to any and all of his demands.

  And he wanted to. Sweet Jesus how he wanted to give in to that wicked look in Duke’s eyes.

  What the hell was the matter with him? The playboy billionaire wasn’t gay. According to every gossip site and tabloid Evan loved to read, the heir to the Duke Empire had a different woman every week—and sometimes several the same week.

  The man was about as gay as Hugh Hefner.

  “Your name?” Duke asked again.

  With a sigh to release the images of what would never be, Evan reached into his inside pocket and pulled out one of his business cards as casually as possible. Maybe if he played it cool, Duke wouldn’t notice how close Evan was to going full-on fangirl. He hated his overwhelming reaction to someone like Clint Duke. It was about as beneficial as the way one of the female residents at the Farm came on to Evan.

  He accepted the card without reading it. “That’s it?”

  “Were you expecting more?”

  “Hell, yeah. I ask for your name and you whip out a business card like I’m just some nobody.”

  To Evan he had to be. Duke might be the object of his obsession, but it would never be more than that. In order to convince the erratic pulse that pumped blood into all the wrong areas, he had to treat him with indifference. “It’s got my name on it.”

  Duke glanced at the business card in his massive hands. “Listen, Evan McKoy. You aren’t making a very good first impression.”

  “I’m sorry?” It came out as a question. Damn, so much for hoping casual would do the trick.

  When he held Evan’s gaze, the corners of his lips tipped upward. “Why aren’t you even trying to impress me?”

  Was the attraction crackling between them one-sided? The way Duke kept stroking Evan with his intense gaze definitely made him wonder. He dismissed it with a shake of his head. He must be seeing things. Wishful thinking. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to.”

  “Everyone falls all over themselves to impress me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He grinned and leaned on the counter. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m worth billions.”

  “Now who’s trying to impress whom?”

  “Did it work?”

  Evan laughed. This guy was too much. He wished he didn’t find it so goddamn charming. It should have turned him off. Instead, it made him like the guy that much more. “No. I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Duke. Yes, I know who you are. You’re Clint Duke, more commonly known as the playboy billionaire in all the tabloids. I guess you’ll have to amend your statement. Not everyone falls all over themselves to impress you.”

  “Damn,” he mused. “Now what am I going to put on my business cards?”

  “How about ‘Clint Duke, I’m worth billions.’”

  This time Duke laughed, his eyes to dancing. “I think I’ll stick with Clint Duke, CEO of Duke Enterprises. And, in a little over four hours, new owner of Kelley’s Department Store.”

  2

  “OMGee.” Patsy drew out the last letter of her declaration.

  “I know.” Evan didn’t turn around as he answered his coworker, who just so happened to be his best friend. Watching Clint Duke walk away was almost as fine as having the man so close they shared the same airspace.

  “Isn’t that?”

  “It is.”

  “Is he?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Good.” She smiled sweetly when he glanced over his shoulder. “That means I have a shot.”

  Patsy Cline—no relation, as she’d say—had a body built for sin and knew how to use it to get what she wanted. She wore her thick blonde waves in styles to accent her heart-shaped face. Today was a classic updo that made her seem both sophisticated and a little naughty librarian. Her blue eyes glittered when she got anywhere near a customer with a fat wallet. The male customers loved her. The female customers wished they were her.

  And Clint Duke would love her as well.

  He faced her as jealousy bit into him. Still, if he couldn’t have the playboy billionaire, at least he’d go to a good home with Patsy. “Promise me I get to be in the wedding.”

  “You’ll be my gaid of honor.”

  “I get to pick the dresses.” Evan laughed and kissed her cheek. “Good morning, sweetie.”

  “Morning.” She sighed as she returned her attention to Duke. “I wish I had the guts to just walk up to him and throw myself at his feet.”

  Another one to fall all over herself to impress him.

  She’d change her opinion of the man when Evan told her why he paid Kelley’s a visit. He still couldn’t believe it. Clint Duke was here to buy Kelley’s. Why? What could he possibly gain by picking up a struggling department store? It didn’t fit. Duke Enterprises only invested in businesses that made money. Kelley’s barely made payroll.

  Evan casually dropped the bomb. “He’s going to buy the store.”

  She whipped around, her eyes wide. “You’re kidding. I didn’t think the Peters would ever sell.”

  The Peters, as all the employees referred to the current owners, were a long line of Peter Kelleys. Peter Kelley I founded the store in 1905. His son, Peter Kelley II, took over, who eventually handed it down to Peter Kelley III, the current owner. Peter Kelley IV was next in line.

  “I’m sure Duke Enterprises isn’t giving them a choice.” Which sucked. The Peters were excellent employers and pretty decent men. Knowing Clint Duke was here to take the store that’d been in their family for almost four generations didn’t sit well with Evan. His opinion of the delicious Duke about to run the show dropped.

  “Poor Peters.” Patsy thrust out her bottom lip. “I wish there was something we could do.”

  Maybe there was. This may not be a matter of national security, but TREX may be able to help. Surely being the brother of a TREX agent granted him some sort of favor. They’d be able to find something to help the Peters fight off a takeover from Duke Enterprises. After all, that was the very definition of the covert agency. Hell, it was in their mission statement.

  Call on TREX. They find things.

  “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed his phone and hid out in one of the dressing rooms as he dialed. “Come on, Megan. Pick up.”

  “McKoy.” His little sister’s curt voice came across the line.

  “Meg, it’s—”

  “Evan, so help me if you’re calling to lecture me again on returning that dress after I wore it, I will lose my shit on you.”

  “Hi to you too, sis.” Despite his irritation over that very thing, he kept his tone pleasant. After all, he needed a favor, and Megan McKoy wasn’t exactly known for her generosity. It didn’t run in the family bloodline. “I need a favor.”

  “What sort of favor?” Her tone grew cautious, hesitant.

  Ho
w could he ask what he wanted to ask without it seeming petty and personal? It was no secret how much Evan loved his job. If he simply told her he didn’t think it was fair how Duke Enterprises planned a takeover of Kelley’s, he’d never hear the end of it.

  He had to approach this as unbiased as possible and still make it sound like the store was under attack. “Duke Enterprises is making a bid on Kelley’s Department Store. I’m sure it’s not a welcome one.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the call. “So?”

  Shit. Think. Think! “A company the size of Duke Enterprises doesn’t move in on businesses as small as Kelley’s. It won’t make them any money.”

  “You’re telling me this why?”

  “I was hoping, you know. Maybe TREX could look into it.” He needed more and pressed the side of his fist against his forehead as he struggled to think of something with more meat.

  “Wait a second. Duke Enterprises? As in Clint freakin Duke? Isn’t that the guy you’ve been obsessed with since forever?”

  “It’s not like that, Meg.”

  “What, exactly, is it like, Evan?”

  “Forget it.” It was a stupid idea, anyway.

  “No, I get it. You want me to look into a guy everyone cares about buying up a store no one cares about. Am I right?”

  Hearing it come from her made it sound so much worse than it sounded in his head. “Something like that.”

  “You’re lucky I love you. I’ll see what I can find out. Anything else? Want me to break into his penthouse and steal a pair of his boxers for you?”

  “He wears boxers?” Evan’s imagination ran wild with that little tidbit of knowledge.

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks.” Evan ended the call and walked out of the dressing room, glanced around, and hurried back to his post. Patsy barely acknowledged him as he joined her behind the counter and stopped in front of the stack of receipts he needed to finish sorting before this afternoon’s board meeting.

  Patsy sighed hard. “Do you think he has a house in the Hamptons?”

  “If he did, you could be neighbors.”

  “Daddy sold it despite my pleas, which is too bad. Boys do love the girl next door.” She twirled a lock of hair that had fallen out of her updo.

  “Why not go over there and talk to him?” He kept his gaze on the paperwork, pretending not to be the least bit interested. He had much bigger issues to deal with than lusting over the new owner.

  “Are you nuts? I can’t just talk to Clint Duke. I’m pretty sure he’s like Seattle royalty or something.”

  “We sell tiaras over in Bridal. Go throw one on and then go talk to him.”

  “Oh, ha-ha. How can you be so calm? He’s gorgeous. Look at that little dimple in his cheek when he smiles.” She sighed in a dreamlike state.

  “Because he’s straight, Patsy. I’m not into wasted effort.”

  “Then what’s your excuse for Paul? Linus? What was that one guy’s name from the rooftop bar?”

  “I said wasted effort, not lost causes.”

  “Maybe you can turn him gay. You know, show him the way to true love.”

  “It doesn’t work like that.” But he couldn’t deny the spark between them. It was too damn bad he’d never find out if Duke’s enormous hands and feet equated to the size of any other part of his anatomy. “He has to enroll in the Gay Men of Seattle Club, first.”

  “Or at least join a choir,” she countered with a snort. “I wonder who dresses him.”

  “I doubt it’s anyone in his harem. Collectively, they don’t wear enough material to make a half-shirt.”

  “Are you sure he’s straight?”

  “Why do you think he’s not?” Evan glanced at Duke, wishing it were socially acceptable to ask.

  “Straight guys don’t know anything about fashion. That’s this season’s leather belt. A straight guy wouldn’t know to change out his wardrobe with the season.”

  “A billionaire doesn’t need to know. He has people for that. I’m sure they know the difference between hand-stitched and machine-stitched. The difference between quantity and quality. They can’t very well serve as a personal shopper for a billionaire willing to drop hundreds on a leather belt and sell him one from last year’s line.”

  She batted her eyes. “Maybe you can be gay enough for the both of you.”

  “Don’t you have something to do?” Evan countered lightly.

  “I’ll see if the cutie browsing the dress shirts knows the difference between fall and winter colors.” Smiling, she moved out from behind the counter. “If he doesn’t, I know what I’m doing Saturday night. Him.”

  Evan laughed. “If he does?”

  “I’ll send him your way.” She sashayed away in her Donna Karan silk pencil skirt, and every man in the store stopped to take notice.

  He searched the floor to spot where Duke had disappeared. Instead of watching Patsy walk away the way every other red-blooded man had, he perused the perfume counter, his playful dark hair falling forward. Swallowing thickly, Evan pulled his attention to his paperwork and fought against the guilt weighing on him for telling Megan to look into the playboy billionaire.

  He had to have everything in order for this afternoon’s meeting with the board. It’d been a tough year for department stores like Kelley’s. Stores were closing across the country. There’d been rumors floating around of layoffs, and now he knew why. Clint Duke didn’t get to be a billionaire sitting at the head of the table at Duke Enterprises by having a heart. He came here for one reason and one reason only—to close Kelley’s.

  Which really sucked. Evan enjoyed the hell out of what he did for a living. Being a personal shopper had its perks. He had the privilege to play dress up with the wealthiest people in the world, the privilege to cater to the famous as well.

  As the brother of a TREX agent, he also had the privilege to call upon the covert agency via his sister to protect those who’d never win otherwise. Like a small business like Kelley’s going up against a monster like Duke Enterprises. Talk about David and Goliath. Only this time, the giant would win.

  It bothered the hell out of him how the powerful took what they wanted without regard to the consequences. Evan knew firsthand if a person had enough money, that person might never be punished for any crime. The odds were stacked against the inevitable losers. Like him. Like his family.

  Agencies like TREX leveled the playing field. When Megan had joined the covert agency, following in the footsteps of so many of their cousins, Evan wasn’t sure how he felt about his little sister being an agent. He still didn’t know how he felt about it. It was dangerous, going undercover and doing God only knew what she did on missions. At least when he asked her for favors it didn’t involve her dressing up as a high-priced escort to dig up intel on a Goliath.

  No, his favors allowed her to stay in her civvies, which she called her civilian clothes. But it still had her digging up intel on a Goliath.

  He’d thought about joining TREX but would have to go back to school to qualify. He barely made it through high school and couldn’t bring himself to voluntarily go through that type of torture another four years by going to college. Besides, he had a great job doing something he absolutely loved. The idea of being a covert agent didn’t even complete with what he did for a living.

  He got to shop with someone else’s money and fit his customers in clothes designed for gods. However, having a personal shopper at your beck and call was a luxury only the elite could afford. When it came time to cut expenses, the luxuries were the first to go. Even the elite knew when to tighten the purse strings.

  He’d already lost half his staff. Now it was only Patsy and him. She didn’t need the job. As the daughter of a rich father, Patsy had money to burn. But she loved to shop, and Daddy had threatened to cut her off if she didn’t find something productive to do with her time. So, naturally, she got a job that allowed her to shop for a living. If she lost this job, she’d simply move on to the
next thing to occupy her time.

  His story wasn’t so cut-and-dry. He knew what it was like to live on the streets. To not eat for days. Use an overpass as shelter from the relentless Seattle rain. After leaving home at the age of fifteen when his dad couldn’t accept the fact Evan was gay, he’d hitched a ride out of Montana and ended up in Seattle, where he spent the rest of his teenage years squatting in abandoned buildings as he struggled his way through high school. It’d taken the help of a couple school counselors and the sympathy of the head lunch lady slipping him a few extra meals, but he eventually graduated. It wasn’t until he’d wanted a job at Kelley’s and needed a permanent address that he finally agreed to move to the Farm.

  A deep baritone laugh caught in his senses, and he glanced over to see Duke leaning on the perfume counter and flirting shamelessly with Candy, the cute girl holding a bottle of perfume in her hands. She placed a squirt of perfume on a sample stock and handed it to him. He took it and, never looking away from the blushing Candy, wiped the stock on her wrist. He then lifted her wrist to his nose and inhaled deeply.

  Evan found himself inhaling right along with him. When Duke turned and flicked his dancing dark gaze his way, Evan’s pulse went into overdrive. His heart thudded in his ears, pounding hard and fast. The world slowed ever so slightly, darkening around them, until there was only Clint Duke—still looking at Evan.

  He shouldn’t notice Duke this much. He hated how his own body reacted by tensing, his skin now highly sensitive, his trousers too tight. And why the hell couldn’t he breathe?

  Duke grinned and returned his attention to Candy, and whatever spell he’d captivated Evan with faded. The room lightened as everything returned to normal speed. What was that? Did Patsy spike his coffee without him knowing? He grabbed his cup and sniffed. Shaking his head, he returned his focus on the paperwork and not on the confusing, mind-altering reaction he’d just had when Clint Duke did nothing more than give him a quick glance.

  “Maybe I should have my head examined,” he said to himself. “I’m sure TREX already thinks I’m crazy.”

  “Excuse me?”