He's My Associate

by Cay Harrington

Spending one holiday together. Pretending to date for a while for the position he’d been craving since he graduated law school.

  How bad could it be?

  “I’ll do it.”

  Ryan turned and met his eyes.

  “You better make it look good, Cooper. Superb, even.”

  “Same goes for you.”

  “Please. Who do you think I am?”

  “You’re Ryan King. And you are the best liar I’ve ever known. When you want to be, of course.”

  Ryan hummed, lips twitching up.

  “What time’s our flight?”

  “Eight. Pack light, babe,” Cooper called as he headed out. He caught himself, smacking the doorway lightly before he said, “Oh, and I want a corner office, I think.”

  He missed the way Ryan sighed after him.

  2

  Ryan showed up to the airport dressed in a Burberry suit. It was checkered and pressed, his usual matching handkerchief folded neatly in his breast pocket. Cooper couldn’t help but bite his lip to keep from outright laughing.

  Instead, Cooper shook his head and told him to change.

  “Into what? Pajamas?” Ryan said snidely, lip curling up. He gave Cooper a once-over, a question clear in the silence.

  “They’re leggings, not pajamas.”

  He adjusted the grip he had on his bag, a rollaway that he’d had for six years. It was scuffed and dented, but fit exactly what he needed whenever he returned home, which was less and less often with each year that passed. Two shirts, a sweater, three pairs of shorts, more underwear and socks than he needed just in case, a hair brush and fresh pack of ties for the really hot days. Everything zipped and folded and tucked exactly where they needed to be, in one single, easy carry-on suitcase.

  Ryan on the other hand, had five bags. Four at his feet with the last dangling from his fingers. Cooper couldn’t imagine what they were all for.

  He blinked, looking at Cooper expectantly.

  “Go change,” Cooper repeated.

  Ryan glowered. “Why?”

  “It’ll be too hot there for that suit. You want sweat stains?”

  Ryan’s mouth hung open and Cooper was sorely tempted to stick a finger in out of impulse. He told himself that would be silly. Besides, Ryan would probably bite his finger clear off.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “The humidity this time of year will kill you. You’ll regret wearing anything more than a tank top and shorts.”

  “I hardly think Miami will be that terrible,” he said and Cooper couldn’t help but smile.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Cooper felt generous. He grabbed two of Ryan’s bags and left him to gather the rest. He turned to head to the gate, unable to tamp down the smile on his face.

  Ryan caught up to him, his designer oxfords clicking on the tile.

  “Tell me, Cooper.”

  “My parents don’t live in Miami, is all.”

  “What.”

  “They’re in Inverness.”

  “What the hell is Inverness?”

  Cooper laughed and handed over their tickets.

  Ryan eyed the wetlands from his window seat for twenty minutes before they landed. Thankfully the three-hour flight hadn’t been terrible. Ryan had been distracted on his phone and Cooper had a book.

  But the second Cooper chanced a look out the window to check how much longer they’d be, Ryan followed his gaze. Then he’d been hooked on the endless marshlands, lips pulled thinner the longer he stared.

  “You’ll love it,” Cooper said, helpless for the opportunity to tease him. “Almost as much as I’ll love my new office when we get back.”

  Ryan was so caught on the landscape he didn’t even reply.

  It was two more hours of Ryan quietly grumbling to himself and glaring at everyone who passed, the sky, the grass, the ducks napping beneath the shade of a too-small tree. Cooper rented a car at the airport and, if just to mess with his overworked boss, he got the biggest pickup truck available.

  When he pulled up in front of Ryan, who’d been waiting surrounded by luggage, Cooper knew it was worth it for the look on Ryan’s face.

  His jaw dropped, the pricey shades sat on his nose sliding weakly downward, before he thought to collect himself.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “This is a pickup truck. Sorry, all they had,” Cooper lied. He tapped the empty passenger seat, looking down at Ryan from his perch behind the wheel.

  “Who’s going to move these?” he asked, waving at his bags.

  Cooper smiled and let Ryan figure it out.

  “How much longer until we reach your parents’ place?”

  Cooper eyed the sun as he drove, eyeing the relaxed traffic stretched out in the front of them. Ryan had been counting with each stoplight. What he was counting, Cooper didn’t know, but the count was up to four so far.

  “About ten minutes, unfortunately.” Ryan muttered five. “What are you counting?”

  “The number of gun stores in this godforsaken town.”

  “They added a few, interesting.”

  “Interesting?”

  “You’ll probably see the inside of one before we leave,” Cooper told him. Then, feeling an explanation would be wheedled out of him regardless, he added, “If Joseph has anything to say about it.”

  “Joseph?”

  “My father.”

  “Calm down, Luke,” Ryan huffed, sarcastic. “I can tell you two get along swimmingly. How’s the Death Star these days?”

  Cooper snorted. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

  “About right?”

  “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

  Ryan didn’t elaborate, and Cooper was grateful. If Ryan could read the room so well, maybe Thanksgiving wouldn’t be a total wash.

  He needed that promotion.

  He needed that office.

  He needed to do something meaningful with his life.

  Ryan was looking at him when he checked for the next turn.

  Logically, he knew they’d need to carry on the charade of dating for longer than Thanksgiving. He knew that. So why was he just now realizing? It’d be a long play to have Gloria King believing what they wanted her to.

  “We need a plan,” Cooper said.

  “We do. I was thinking we find the alcohol and get your family as drunk as they possibly can be and then we leave. They’ll never have to know.”

  Cooper started to smile in spite of himself. “Joseph doesn’t drink, sorry. I meant more of what we’ll do when we’re there. How far…how far you’re willing to go to sell this?”

  “I can suck you off.” Cooper almost hit the brakes. “With any luck we won’t be pushed to do anything to sell it. We can just stand next to each other and smile now and again. That should be plenty for most.”

  Cooper nodded, trying to control the flush on his face from the poor joke. “And if it’s not?”

  “What? Is someone in your family unusually nosy? Will they want pictures for the photo album?” Ryan laughed, joking. But when he saw Cooper wasn’t cracking, the laughter died off. “Oh wow, they’ll want pictures.”

  “It’s likely,” Cooper told him. “My mother thinks I’m bringing home my boyfriend of a few months.”

  “Yeah, I assumed that. Why else would anyone bring their partner home for the holidays?” Ryan picked at his hands, but didn’t look away from him.

  Cooper signaled another turn. They were almost there. The houses started to look familiar, along with the planters sat wilting on sun-bleached porches. Unchanged.

  “She might expect us to kiss. Think you have it in you?”

  He threw a sly look at Ryan, trying to tease him. But Ryan looked deathly serious.

  “Oh, I think I’ll manage.”

  Cooper swallowed.

  “How will we have started dating, then? What’s our story?” Ryan asked, moving on. He switched his studying gaze to his hands, smoothing the cuticles down. Utterl
y casual and unbothered about his own statement.

  Cooper knew Ryan had a blindspot when it came to him, some innate ability to tolerate him when he could tolerate so few others in the company. He hardly had reason to believe that tolerance could, or would, extend to the million scenarios a holiday could throw at them.

  “Let’s stick with the four months. We kept it low-key so it wouldn’t look like I was promoted just because I have a thing for you.”

  Ryan smirked at that and Cooper wanted to clarify.

  But they were out of time.

  “We’re here,” Cooper said as he pulled up in front of his parents’ home. “We’ll figure it out later. I’m sure they’ll be preoccupied with my brother for a while anyway.”

  “You have a brother?”

  Cooper nodded. He pointed to the gleaming blue SUV parked in the driveway behind Joseph’s old Mustang.

  “You’ll meet him. The only one you have to worry about is Joseph.”

  Ryan must have caught the edge in his voice. He stared out the window at the row of cars, leaning so close to Cooper he could smell the cologne he wore. Something expensive, he knew. Ryan always splurged on things Cooper had trouble bothering with in the first place. He grew up having his face shoved in mud. He graduated to having after-school football practice to do the same just to get his father off his back in high school. Made sure he projected the perfect image of the perfect, meat-headed son.

  He sighed, knowing he’d probably not get away from watching at least an hour of football before they got to leave again. Ryan really didn’t know what he was in for, and Cooper almost felt sorry for him. And his oxfords.

  “What’s the deal there?” Ryan asked, peering at him from behind his shades. “With him?”

  Cooper reached up and plucked them from Ryan’s face. He folded them and tucked them into his pocket. Ryan smiled, all venom.

  “You’ll see.”

  It took barely two knocks and then his mother was there, grinning from ear to ear. She drew him into a hug and he gladly returned it. The worst part about not visiting often was hardly seeing her.

  Her pale eyes landed on Ryan just behind him, and the grin widened.

  “Ryan, Cat. Cat, Ryan.”

  “Oh!” she said, beaming. “You must be my son’s new friend.”

  Ryan gave her a polite laugh, and Cooper wondered at it. Never had he heard that laugh come from his boss. Genuine laughter, rarely. Cruel laughter, often. Sardonic, frustrated laughter, always. Never this—an attempt at geniality.

  At least that’s what Cooper hoped it was.

  “Boyfriend, actually,” Ryan corrected her. Very smooth.

  Ryan, the height of self-satisfied, wrapped an arm around Cooper’s waist and fluttered his lashes up at him. Cooper gripped him tight around his side, fingers digging in beneath his arm where they lay hidden from his mother’s view. Ryan’s laughter cut off and Cooper jostled him for good measure.

  Cat whooped, arms shooting up in the air before wrapping around Ryan to pull him in for a hug of his own. He gasped a laugh, and Cooper counted that one as truly genuine.

  “Hey, Mom?” called a voice from inside and Cooper’s stomach coiled in on itself. “Where does Dad keep the keys? Did you move them again?”

  Cat let Ryan go to pat his cheek before inviting them inside.

  Cooper was shocked to see Ryan’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes trained on the floor as he stepped inside first.

  Who knew the key to subduing Ryan King was his mother?

  “You grew a beard,” was the first thing Cooper thought to say when his brother came into view.

  Malcolm looked tired, too tired for his age. His beard wasn’t long but it was messy and Cooper wondered at it, suspicious. Malcolm had never been one for being unkempt. He didn’t miss the way Malcolm kept his hands in his pockets, hunched in on himself.

  “Where’s Nan?”

  “Your grandmother?” Ryan asked, looking between the two of them.

  Malcolm grimaced and Cooper started to gather some idea of what was up.

  “Anne. His wife,” Cooper told him gently. “This is my little brother, Malcolm. Crown jewel of the family, fishing aficionado, diver, et cetera.”

  Malcolm didn’t even roll his eyes. He just blinked and shot a hand out to shake Ryan’s, who did, with a quick glance to Cooper. Even Ryan knew something was wrong.

  Malcolm had never been a good liar.

  Malcolm’s hand was missing his wedding ring, and Cooper very much wanted to turn and leave right back out into the humid air. Wanted to drag Ryan with him and say they could play their little game of pretend back at the office, where the only person who needed to see it would see.

  They didn’t need this drama.

  But he’d promised his mom he’d bring someone over, and he had to at least try. Try not to seem like he was in a slump, socially, professionally, emotionally. Probably. He hadn’t really spent much time on that last part.

  “Guess you don’t have to worry about being in the spotlight so much today, huh?” Malcolm tried to joke, but his eyes never changed from the dull stare they held. “I’ll be the fuckup for once.”

  Cooper fought not to say anything. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek, knowing it wasn’t worth saying what he thought right then.

  Do it for the job, he reminded himself.

  Ryan watched their exchange with careful eyes. Finally, they settled on Cooper before narrowing, and he knew he’d have to answer questions. Soon.

  Do it for the job.

  Malcolm was called away by their mother, and Ryan jumped on the chance when Cat suggested Cooper should give him a tour of the backyard.

  “Perfect,” Ryan called. “I love gardening!”

  Cat smiled warmly at them as they passed outside and Ryan saw his chance once the glass door slid shut behind them.

  “Your brother has secrets, I think!” he whispered, conspiring.

  Cooper ignored him. “You hate getting dirty. You don’t garden.”

  “I’ll have you know I have a very much alive cactus at home.”

  “And where is that? Your two-hundred-square-foot shoebox of a flat that gets no sun? You probably don’t even have good plumbing.”

  Cooper snorted, thinking it would glide off Ryan like everything else. But when he turned to see, Ryan was biting his lip, dark brows pulled down in a dark look that told Cooper his words hit. In a bad way.

  “Hey, sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

  “You’re not wrong. My place is shitty, I know it. Am I that much of a stereotype?”

  “Workaholic who never spends his money on nice things that actually matter?” Cooper tried. Ryan’s lips quirked a little. “Kind of.”

  “But I have nine suits,” Ryan said, in better humor. As if it was something to brag about.

  “You have fourteen. You forget you have me order your dry cleaning.”

  Ryan breathed a laugh at that, nodding slowly.

  “Your mom is kind.”

  Cooper spied her in the window. She was watching them as she prepped dinner, Malcolm talking her ear off beside her. She smiled when she noticed Cooper watching her.

  “She is.”

  Ryan shrugged. “Mine is decidedly not.”

  The little half laugh he gave then had Cooper wanting to dig. He wanted to pry, and maybe it was because it was Ryan he was curious about. Ryan, who he saw ninety-percent of his days, who he knew almost nothing personal about. It was all image with Ryan. All surface. The closest he got to seeing what was going on in his head had been the day before, when Gloria had torn into him.

  The humidity was making Ryan’s hair curl at the edges, casting itself in deep brown hues Cooper had never really noticed before. The light warmed them both as they walked, as Cooper made good on the idea of a tour. It was Joseph’s garden, had been his hobby ever since he retired.

  He hated this garden for a long time, after.

  Ryan nodded sagely at every plant Cooper named, ever
y different kind of leaf, every fruit-bearing tree that was currently bereft due to the season.

  “You’ve got quite the green thumb,” Ryan said. If Cooper didn’t know Ryan like he did, he’d think he meant it.

  “I’ve never touched this place. I’m only out here because Joseph isn’t.”

  A hand on his arm had him stopping. Ryan didn’t let go, not even when Cooper tried to tug free.

  “What happened?”

  “Oh, you’re using your serious voice. Are you about to fire me if I don’t tell you?”

  Ryan squeezed tighter and Cooper shook his arm again, testing. Ryan held fast.

  “I’ve been trying to piece it together. First, I thought maybe it was the typical shitty childhood. But I had that and look how I turned out. You seem too well-rounded for that. Then I thought, oh, maybe he fucked up. And going off what Malcolm said earlier I don’t think I’m far off. But now it’s a question mark, a mystery. What could you have done so wrong that dear old Dad isn’t a fan of you anymore? Stole his car? You’re too old. Too much school debt? No, because both your parents are retired. You don’t retire without a lot of money, or working yourself to the bone.” Ryan stepped close and Cooper stared him down. Tried his best to put the smell of his cologne to the back of his mind, tried to forget it.

  Ryan’s eyes shined with delight. “Then I thought, well it must be a girl. Did perfect son Cooper bring home the wrong girl?”

  “Ryan,” Cooper warned.

  Ryan pressed close, voice lower than a whisper.

  “No. No, I think he brought home the wrong boy. Daddy didn’t like that at all, did he?”

  Cooper looked around them, checking to see if they were being watched. Or pranked. He’d accept that. He yanked his arm free to Ryan’s trilling laughter.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly it, really. I came out last year. He’s only been talking to me again for a few months.”

  Ryan’s mirth faltered at that. “Oh.”

  “I haven’t seen him for almost a year.”

  “You haven’t been home in a year?”

  “Nope.”

  Cooper saw Ryan’s face fall, going from pleased to guilty in the span of a few seconds. And he was glad. Ryan was so rarely guilty. He couldn’t believe it.

  He really couldn’t.