by A. E. Via
Bishop kept watching him, his eyes roaming over Edison’s charcoal gray suit that he’d paired with a black, floral tie. Edison blushed when Bishop inched forward, licking his lips as if he’d completely forgotten where they were. “Mmmm. And you fucking smell good, too.”
“Bishop,” Trent said warningly. “There are some suits coming.”
Edison knew his cheeks were red, and he thought his dick was going to burst through his slacks. Yet, he still couldn’t look away.
“You better get upstairs and lock yourself in that nice office of yours, Edison,” Bishop growled, standing so close that he could smell the minty gum he was chewing.
Edison bit his bottom lip to stop the moan threatening to escape when he saw Bishop’s hand inching up to his face. His body swayed as he waited eagerly to feel those strong hands on his body when Trent suddenly gripped Bishop’s shoulder and yanked backward. Edison blinked, not knowing what the hell he’d been thinking. Jesus, was he about to lie down on the freaking walkway and spread his legs open?
“Morning, Edison.”
Edison almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of his boss’s voice. His hand flew over his heart, making him release an embarrassed laugh. He caught his breath enough to say, “Good morning, Presley.”
“Yes. It certainly does appear to be a very good morning.” Presley grinned slyly, her keen brown eyes moving to Bishop.
Edison stepped closer to Bishop’s side and touched his bicep through his coveralls. “Presley. This is my boyfriend, Bishop Stockley and his friend, Trent. You guys, this is my boss and the senior partner of the firm, Presley Alfred.”
“Nice to meet you.” Bishop nodded in her direction. His voice even and cool, “I’ve only heard good things about you, Ms. Alfred.”
Presley tucked her long black hair behind one ear, blinking at Edison in surprise. “Is that so? And please, call me Presley, it makes me feel just a tad younger.”
Bishop nodded, giving Edison a smooth smile.
“Well he’s been very close-mouthed about you.” Presley tapped her shiny, beige heel against the concrete. “I’ve had to pick up the scraps around the water cooler about the beautiful flowers my manager’s had in his office this week… twice.”
“Since when does the senior partner scrounge for office gossip?” Edison raised his eyebrow.
“When I’m refused it firsthand. Besides, I just wanted to know who or what was responsible for your good mood the past several months. I mean I can see why you leave promptly at five now instead of staying late with me anymore. Now I’m all alone.” Presley pretended to be hurt. She straightened herself in her five-hundred-dollar suit and held her head higher. “I’ll survive without you, I suppose.”
“Can you stop with the acting? I told you, you’re terrible at it,” Edison said dryly.
Bishop and Trent both looked surprised at Edison’s insensitive words.
“I once had an audition at the North Carolina School of Drama, thank you.” Presley squinted at him, “I’m better than you give me credit for.”
“Only in the courtroom.”
“You two have an interesting relationship,” Bishop commented, still watching their exchange.
“Edison is my everything. He knows more about me than anyone should,” Presley admitted with a fond smile on her pretty, face. She was light-skinned and chose to highlight her African American features with little make-up or enhancements, and it worked perfectly for her.
“True. I know more than I want to. Which speaking of—” Edison checked his watch. “What are you doing here? You have a three forty-one meeting this morning with Trustee Williams.”
“I know, I know. I told Mila to let them know I’d be late,” she said, glancing at her own expensive timepiece.
“Why?” Edison asked.
“I just wanted to peek in on your meeting really fast to make sure our community project is set to run nice and smooth tomorrow.” She smiled brightly then turned to Bishop and Trent. “Did Edison invite you to Saturday’s extravaganza? You’re all invited. You guys have my building’s lawn as the talk of Town Center, you know.”
Edison waved for her to settle down. “Yes, I already did. And he’s coming.”
“Good.” She nodded. “Well time is money. I gotta run. Bishop and Trent, it was a pleasure. Bring your family and friends out tomorrow. It’s all about the community.”
When she was inside Edison nodded in her direction. “Now you’ve met my boss.”
“She seems great. I wouldn’t mind working for her.” Bishop laughed when Edison popped him in his chest. “Well, she is fine. I’m in a relationship, baby, I’m not blind. Is she married? What’d you think, Trent?”
“Nope.” Edison smiled at Trent. “She’s young, successful, smart and single.”
Trent shrugged. “She was okay.”
Bishop looked suspiciously at his friend, but Edison figured Trent must still be upset about his recent break-up. Which reminded him. He pulled the container out of his bag and moved to Bishop’s other side. “Trent. I made you something this morning. Bishop said chocolate was your favorite.”
Trent removed his sunglasses and placed them on top of his NY Yankees ball cap. He laughed at the scowl that Bishop was wearing as he popped open the lid and pumped his fist at the two, large, chocolate chip muffins inside. “Hell yeah, thanks, Edison.”
“Is there enough for me?” Bishop frowned.
“Nope,” Trent said. “There’s only two.”
Edison laughed and Bishop spun around pinning him with a hot glare of intimidation all over his handsome face. He brought their bodies close together, his lips barely moving as he rumbled sexily, “And what are you gonna give me?”
“You guys are like horny teenagers,” Trent said with his mouth full of muffin.
Edison backed away, not daring to answer Bishop’s question. He had a meeting to start.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
Edison smiled. “Yes, you will. If you’re finished with work before me, just use-”
“Shit. Yo, Bishop. Three o’clock, man,” Trent gritted.
Edison turned his head in the same direction as Bishop just in time to see Skylar walking towards them in a sharp gray three-piece suit. Oh no.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Bishop
Motherfucker. Bishop liked not seeing Skylar’s smug face every day when he came to work, even though he missed being in Town Center, so close to Edison. It’d probably been for the best that he and Trent had moved on to their next project when they had. But the way Skylar was advancing towards them, it was clear he hadn’t cooled off in the past few weeks.
“Sorry to interrupt your little powwow, fellas,” Skylar said instead of a polite good morning.
“No problem asshole. Join the circle jerk and grab a cock,” Trent sneered.
Skylar twisted his mouth but otherwise ignored them both, and kept his eyes on Edison. “Are you gonna be late for your own meeting, boss?”
Bishop had his hand on the back of Edison’s neck, his thumb idly rubbing the smooth skin at the base of his jaw. He’d reached out and touched him to calm himself because otherwise he might’ve lurched forward and slapped Skylar in his mouth for speaking to his boyfriend in any way.
“I don’t need you to check on my timing,” Edison replied.
“That’s right. Because you’re the boss of me.” Skylar narrowed his eyes.
Edison shook his head, appearing confused at how to even respond to that.
“This dude is disrespectful as hell, B,” Trent said from beside him. “I think you should let me at ’em. Sometimes an asshole needs to be taught a lesson.”
Skylar scoffed and ran his manicured hand down the front of his designer jacket. “That’s a vicious guard dog you got there, Bishop.”
“Oh yeah,” Trent growled, taking a step forward, until Bishop put his forearm on his chest to stop him. Trent glanced down at Bishop’s barrier and didn’t press any further. They were not about
to get Edison fired and they damn sure were not about to lose Manny and Mike’s contract. “You’re fucking right I’m vicious. And one day B is gonna let me loose—he always does—and I’m gonna take a big bite out of your stuck-up ass, Sky-bitch.”
“Real classy,” Skylar directed towards Edison, looking at him as if he should be ashamed. “This is the company you prefer to keep—with undisciplined, rabid, ex-convicts.”
Bishop bristled, his veins feeling as if they were pumping gasoline through his body instead of blood. He needed to get the hell away from this guy, because Bishop now knew what Skylar’s plan was, and if he lashed out and ground his face beneath his boot, then he was going to win and have an unobstructed path to exactly what he wanted. My Eddie. Bishop glanced down at Edison, who was scowling at Skylar so hard he feared his boyfriend might give himself a headache. All he had to do was stay calm and follow his own plan. Edison would know tonight; he’d tell him everything. Then he’d make love to him for hours because he was one hundred percent sure that Edison wouldn’t leave him, no matter what. Well, maybe ninety-nine, point nine percent sure.
“Ugh. Just leave,” Edison said.
Skylar came closer to Edison, and this time Trent was the one with a grip on Bishop’s arm. He hadn’t realized he’d made a fist until he felt his nails digging into his palm.
“This is your last chance. You can be with a real man, Edison. One who can look good beside you. So, who’s it gonna be? Me or him,” Skylar said right there in front of Bishop. Bold as all fuck. And here he’d thought the pompous pussy didn’t have any balls.
Edison scrunched his face up as if he’d just stepped in shit with his nice shoes. “You disgust me.” Edison rose and quickly kissed Bishop on the mouth. “I have to get to work. I’ll see you tonight. If you get there before me, just use your key.”
Bishop watched Edison walk away.
“That should answer your question, Sky-bitch.” Trent smirked.
“Now, I’m giving you your last warning. Leave him.” Skylar squared off with Bishop, standing at almost the same height as him. Regardless of the fact that he didn’t have near the muscle mass that he and Trent had, it didn’t stop him from threatening them.
“How does five more years in prison sound to you both? Because if you dare fuck with me, I’ll have the best lawyers in Virginia Beach make sure you two get the maximum for assault this time. Edison is my friend. I’m doing this for him.”
“Bullshit,” Trent snapped, and Bishop held onto his friend, knowing their conversation was reaching the danger zone.
“You must like the sting of rejection,” Bishop said. “Edison doesn’t want you.”
“We’ll see. Sometimes problems have to be eliminated first.” Skylar began to back away, then raised his forefinger as if he’d just remembered something critical. “Oh, one last thing. Remember when you were here delivering flowers and I told you I sent for your trial transcripts… they came in yesterday.”
Bishop’s stomach dropped to his feet.
Skylar smirked, knowing he had him. “I bet it’d make an interesting read during my lunch hour. I think I’ll print out a few copies and distribute them around the office. Of course, after I place one on Eddie’s desk.” Skylar sneered.
“Fuck him, B.” Trent tried to move Bishop, but he wasn’t budging. All he could think of was slamming his fist into Skylar’s teeth so that he couldn’t speak. His hands started to shake as he thought about what might be in that transcript. Didn’t that mean everything that’d been said at his trial? Bishop suddenly felt as if he’d swallowed a handful of sand.
“Bishop couldn’t have done it. He’s completely illiterate. He can’t even read!” Royce screeched at the prosecutor. “He has the IQ of ant, he was most likely tricked.”
Bishop’s chest went tight and he didn’t think he could inhale. He wanted to curse, scream, and destroy, but instead of doing either, Bishop clutched Trent’s shoulder and turned his back and walked away. If this had been six years ago, he and Trent would still be beating the shit out of Skylar right there in broad daylight. It was all about the disrespect… the fucking blackmail. Fuck! But he wasn’t a thug anymore. He’d grown the hell up in prison and learned how to use his head instead of his fists. Wood had taught him a discipline that was unshakable, there was no way he was letting that punk beat him. With his earbuds pressed deep into his ears, he went back to his job.
“What are you gonna do?” Trent asked when they were finished for the day and back in the truck.
Bishop rubbed his hand over his jaw. “I’m gonna do what I said. I’m gonna tell Eddie tonight. I was just… I was wanting to have a few more weeks of school finished is all, but… it’s fine. It’ll be fine.” Bishop’s knee started to bounce when he thought of Edison reading that transcript.
“Would Edison even read it, you think?” Trent asked quietly.
“I don’t think so. He hates Skylar and he doesn’t trust him, so….” Bishop pressed his fist into his thigh to try to calm the shaking. He was fucking angry he had to even deal with this bullshit. He wondered if he’d never come along would Skylar had ever made a move on Edison. Probably not.
“You want me to drop you off over there?”
“No… yeah… no wait, I’m too fucking…” Scared, angry. Bishop cracked his knuckles.
“I got you, B.” Trent got off the interstate at Rosemont Road.
“Where we going?”
“Gonna buy you a brew before I drop you off to handle your business,” Trent said and pulled into an Applebee’s across from the public library.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Edison
Edison shut the lid on his grill then came back inside. He put the pan of ribeyes in the oven to rest, then checked the time over his stove again. It was dark outside; Bishop was usually done long before eight. Instead of waiting to cook, he figured he’d go ahead and have dinner waiting on the table. Assuming Bishop had had a difficult day—especially after encountering Skylar first thing—Edison tried to think of ways he could relax him tonight. Some pretty good ideas were popping into his head when he heard a key turning in the front door.
Edison came back through the open patio doors after he finished placing the strawberry spinach salad on the table. His smile fell instantly at the haunted expression on Bishop’s face. He set his bag down slowly in the living room and pointed towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower really quick, Eddie.”
“Hey,” Edison said, stopping Bishop from walking away. He wiped his fingers on the hand towel over his shoulder and leaned into him.
“I’m a mess, baby. I don’t wanna get you dirty,” Bishop murmured, backing away.
Edison frowned. Something wasn’t right. Bishop liked to dirty him up, so why was he pushing him away? “Dinner is ready. Why don’t you just change your shirt and wash your hands, we’re eating outside on my new patio set tonight.”
Bishop glanced past him and saw where Edison had the overhead lights on, and the fire pit going. It was still warm out from today’s temperature, but the glow from the fire made the yard look romantic. He’d placed a few citronella candles around the patio to ward off mosquitos. But he was most proud of how nicely he’d set the new glass table. Bishop nodded and gave him a smile that never reached his troubled eyes.
“Sure. I’ll do that,” Bishop whispered. He ducked and quickly kissed Edison on the cheek before taking his bag to the bedroom.
Edison took a deep breath and went back to putting the finishing touches on Bishop’s plate. He tried not to worry too much about Bishop’s mood. Everyone had bad days. Things couldn’t always be sunshine and daisies. Work could be hell sometimes and Bishop was a manager like him. There’d been plenty of times when Edison got home and all he wanted to do was find a corner and curl up with a book. Now, he was even more intent on making Bishop feel good tonight.
Edison was trying his best to enjoy his gorgeous backyard, but he was having a hard time when Bishop was in such a somber mood. He was
eating his food, but he hadn’t complimented Edison once and he was half done. Edison set his knife down and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“I love my yard, Bishop. I can’t believe how much it looks like your drawing. When do you think Manny will want to come take some pictures?” Edison asked with enthusiasm.
Bishop finally looked up from his plate, catching Edison’s gaze for a second before he dropped his head again. “I don’t know. Soon probably. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay.” Edison exhaled slowly then tried a different approach.
“Everyone’s so excited about tomorrow’s community day.” Edison smiled while forking some strawberries and feta cheese crumbles. “This project is really close to Presley. She likes to give back in any way she can.”
Bishop nodded. His jaw was working aggressively as if he was shredding the steak to bits in his mouth.
Edison dropped his hands to his lap, his dinner losing its appeal. “Is um… is something wrong, Bishop?”
“What?” Bishop frowned as if Edison was crazy.
“Is it Mike? Or Trent?” Edison asked. “Or me?”
Bishop’s voice was shallow, and Edison could see his knee bouncing through the clear table. “No, nothing’s wrong with anyone.”
Except you. Edison watched Bishop for a long time before he spoke.
“I had a fucked-up day, Eddie. That’s all.” Bishop pushed his plate away, his steak half-finished and his twice-baked potato was almost untouched. “Shit. I’m sorry. I know I’m messing up your nice meal, baby, I just…”
“Hey.” Edison got up and went to Bishop. He slid his chair back and sat on his lap making Bishop smile for the first time all evening.
“You always fuss when I ask you to sit on my lap.” Bishop put his forehead into his neck and breathed.
“Because I’m too big. This chair probably has a weight capacity that I’m testing right now.”
“Quiet.” Bishop nipped his Adam’s apple.
