by Jayce Ellis
He straightened his shoulders, even though at his best he was a solid seven inches shorter than Matt, and tried to affect an air of nonchalance he damn sure didn’t feel. “It says way more about you than me that your mind went there. How much longer do you plan to be?”
A snort was his response. “What would you do if I said another three hours?”
That’d be eleven p.m. Fucking hell. Still, Jaq smiled, ignoring the way Matt’s eyes widened just a fraction, and his mouth fell open. “I’d order dinner, kick back, and pull up a game on the computer while you fight with your next victim.”
And just that quick, any trace of humor, desire, whatever, fled. Matt pulled up to his full height, and damn if it didn’t feel like more than seven inches. “You listening in on my personal conversations, Mr. Reynolds?”
Jaq’s pulse ticked up more than a little, but he kept his breathing neutral. “Mr. Donaldson, you’re in my office after hours. Maybe you thought you were alone, though why I can’t possibly fathom, and you weren’t exactly quiet. It wasn’t intentional, but it is what it is.” Because you surely would’ve heard that whole conversation while minding your own business. Sure, Jan.
Matt grinned, an absolutely shark-like one that Jaq imagined he saved for special occasions like eating his competition. Jaq braced himself. “Your office? Don’t remember seeing your name on the door. You’re an assistant, Mr. Reynolds, no matter how indispensable you try and make yourself. Why don’t you let your boss do her job without interrupting every twenty seconds, and you can sit and take notes like a good boy.”
Yep. A goddamn asshole. Jaq was tired, and this conversation was going a whole bunch of nowhere. All he’d wanted to do was lock up, go home, and find some app or something to replicate the sleep sounds T had gotten him used to. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how this fight had started.
“Yeah, okay,” Jaq said. He wasn’t built for snarkiness, and now he was drained. Some people had clapbacks down to a fine art, but that skill had eluded him for thirty-five long years, and right now he needed some semblance of normal. “I’m gonna head out. You stay as long as you want.” He ran a hand over his head. “I guess tell security when you leave and they can lock up.” He angled past Matt and started down the hallway and back to his office.
“Christ,” Matt muttered, and Jaq heard his footsteps following behind. “You have to lock up. That’s why you asked about a key. I’ll get my stuff together and we can go.”
Jaq waved him off. “No need. I’ll shoot Patti a text and make sure we have a plan in place so you can stay as long as you want.”
He felt more than heard Matt’s scoff. “Seriously? Now you’re going for obstinate? I said I’d get ready.”
Jaq whirled on him. “We have pulled fourteen-hour days at your request, because you guys waited ’til the last possible minute to make this deal. We’ve had to order in because you didn’t want to take a real break. The people here are tired. I am tired. And maybe you’re used to ordering people around like this, but Kingsley doesn’t operate that way. Now, I am going home. You do whatever you want.” He turned and marched down to his office, swinging too hard and wincing as it slammed shut behind him.
Jesus. He needed to take a minute and breathe, but no. He had to get out. It was after eight, and emails could be checked at the house. Or, fuck it, tomorrow. Jaq shut down his computer and grabbed his messenger bag, then clicked off the lights as he made his way to the front door.
Matt was there, waiting. He didn’t say a word as Jaq locked the doors, or as they rode down in the escalator. Hell, their cars were parked only a few spots apart. Jaq walked to his, refusing to look at Matt as he reached his car.
“Good night, Mr. Reynolds.”
Jaq looked over at Matt, who had his car door open and was leaning against it. The look on his face bordered on remorse, like he’d finally realized he was out of place and couldn’t figure out how to actually apologize. Jaq’s shoulders sagged. He didn’t have the capacity to stay angry, even with someone so disagreeable.
“Good night, Mr. Donaldson. Get home safe.”
Matt nodded and climbed in his car, Jaq following suit. Matt took off with a honk and a wave, and Jaq pulled out behind him. He wanted nothing more than to veg out with Tanisha and Gran on the couch, but since that wasn’t happening, a decent meal and an early night to bed would have to suffice.
* * *
Two days later and Matt was still a little in shock. JaQuan hadn’t read him the riot act, per se, but he’d made it clear that Matt was not the boss of the Kingsley employees. Which he knew, of course, but maybe he’d been a little brusque before.
Part of that was, in his opinion, inevitable, due to the absurdly short time frame to launch. He’d avoided Mr. Reynolds for two days, but they needed to have a meeting before Laurel got back so she could hit the ground running, so he’d talked to Patti about taking a few hours to go over more options. She’d eagerly agreed, and now Matt stood in the conference room while Patti and the other designers brought various fabrics in, determined to stay calm even when JaQuan walked in.
When he finally did, he ignored his usual seat at the head of the table and walked to the end, taking a seat in a random chair against the wall. Patti seemed confused, and tilted her head at him. “Jaq?”
JaQuan smiled and winked at her. “I’m in note-taking mode, Patti. Y’all do your thing and I’ll email ideas to Laurel. Pay me no mind.”
She frowned but nodded, then started fiddling with her paper. Matt waited for JaQuan to catch his eye, but he didn’t look at Matt at all. Matt cleared his throat. “All right, guys, I know I’ve kept you long a few days and I thank you all for putting up with me. I’m going to do my best to have you out of here by a reasonable hour tonight.”
He expected a snort, a huff, something from JaQuan to show he thought Matt was full of it. Matt glanced over again, but he didn’t look up from his tablet. And somehow that of all things hit him. Like Matt’s acknowledgment that he’d been too much before didn’t warrant a response, a reaction, anything. Matt’d become all too familiar with that empty feeling of trying to apologize for a wrong and having it ignored during the last years of his and Diane’s marriage, and the hell with it. He didn’t know JaQuan, and if the man wanted to sit in a corner and sulk under the auspices of taking notes, that was his business.
Matt focused his attention back to the gathered designers and Patti, all looking at him expectantly. He should sit, but his nerves were too wired for that. “You’ve brought over a great range of fabrics. So let’s talk. Do you want your designs to be used or seen, if that makes sense?”
Patti nodded and jumped up. “So, with the pillows I was thinking they’d be used. I want soft fabrics, but I feel like velvet is too common. Chenille? Super soft, luxurious, can be dyed, right?” She paced the room and was off to the races, moving from pillows to blankets—heated, weighted, both?—the table runners they’d discussed before, place mats—but not in four counts because it was the holidays and you need more than that—napkins, everything. Matt tried to contribute, to turn the conversation into a back-and-forth discussion, but there was no help for it.
Matt watched Jaq, sitting relaxed against the wall, tablet in hand, typing as she spoke. It was clear Patti could go all night, and that was fantastic. She’d have amazing plans for Bernhardt for years to come, and Nicki would be ecstatic if she was interested in a long-term partnership. But for right now? Right now this mental brainstorming, given the clock they were under, was a detriment more than a help.
Patti kept going, and Matt sighed. He got it now. Jaq really did help focus her, letting her brainstorm and interrupting the minute she ventured off into another possible collection. Which...was exactly what she was doing now, discussing Memorial Day outdoor table covers. Good Lord. He needed to get a handle on this.
“Patti,” Matt said, and she stopped, turning to stare at him, her eyes alight
with ideas. “Your outdoor entertaining ideas are great. Honestly amazing.” He paused when she beamed at him, and couldn’t help returning her grin. “But let’s get these plans finalized before we jump headfirst into next summer.”
“These plans?” she asked, then laughed. “Yes yes yes, of course. Where was I?”
A brief hit of silence, then Jaq said, “Tablecloths.” He looked up long enough to say, “You should consider making them waterproof and easily wipeable, since holiday dinners are messy as hell. But not outdoor cheap-looking. Something classy.”
Patti gasped, clapped and started her circuit around the room again, discussing the varieties of fabric that would waterproof the best. Matt removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, crossing his arms while Patti continued to speak. He hoped like hell Jaq was actually taking notes because he couldn’t keep up anymore and he wasn’t interested in trying.
Matt looked at JaQuan then, and he wasn’t looking at his tablet. He was looking at Matt, at his arms to be more specific. And that...that did something for him. JaQuan was a gorgeous man, comfortable in his skin and clearly protective of his boss and his employees. Matt saw what he was doing by letting Patti talk without interruption, and yes, he’d more than proved his value.
But Matt could worry about that later. Right now he was curious.
He let his arms fall to his sides, and JaQuan’s gaze darted down to where he’d hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, before coming back up to his eyes. Matt kept his face carefully neutral but took a step back, and JaQuan’s tongue came out to roll across his lower lip. Whether that was from nerves or desire, he couldn’t tell. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if JaQuan was interested in men, but that hadn’t stopped him from roaming his eyes over Matt’s body. And the hell if his dick didn’t stir again.
Two could play that game, if that’s what this was. Matt took a quick glance at the other designers in the room, but their focus was on Patti. If he was being honest, he wasn’t super worried about the fabrics or usability. One of the main reasons Bernhardt had dared offer a contract this late was because Kingsley could make miracles happen out of seemingly thin air. Matt saw now how integral JaQuan was to that.
And he was still staring at Matt. Matt stared back, letting himself indulge in really seeing Mr. Reynolds. The way his suit followed the lines of his body, the colorful argyle socks you could see only if he had an ankle across his knee the way he did now, the way he moved and shifted that tablet in his lap. Matt wanted to rip it away from him, to see what he was hiding.
Matt didn’t try to disguise his blatant perusal, and JaQuan didn’t let his attention waver either. Until Patti stopped in front of him, breaking his line of sight. “Jaq?” she asked.
“Yes, Patti?” Matt could practically hear the smile in his voice.
“Are you okay? You usually shut me up four or five times by now.” She tittered, but almost sounded nervous, like she’d done something wrong.
JaQuan laughed. “You were perfect. Mr. Donaldson insinuated that I was too controlling of you and your ideas, and I thought he was maybe right, so I decided to take a step back.”
This little...
Patti spun on Matt, shaking her head. “Oh no, I’ll talk for hours if he doesn’t stop me. That’s why he has to be on all the calls and all the meetings. Trust me, we’ve had years of trial and error.” She laughed again, but this one was rich and joyful, and Matt knew this was the real Patti. She took a seat and JaQuan watched him, a small smile on his face.
Matt wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or just pissed. Because he wasn’t here for being the butt of a joke, or whatever it was that JaQu—Mr. Reynolds was doing. He’d let himself get too comfortable mentally in these few short days, started referring to him by his first name instead of the formality he’d insisted he needed. That wouldn’t do. Matt had a job to do, and Nicki had brought him on because he was damn good at that job.
Still, though. He hadn’t been attracted to a man in a long time, and he couldn’t tell now whether those looks were genuinely interested or if they were in service to the point Jaq was trying to make. Which didn’t necessarily make sense, but that’s where he was.
It was time to take a hard step back and think. And he knew just the person to call.
Chapter Four
Jaq hadn’t been sure how he felt when he got the text from Carlton inviting him out for drinks at Lauriol Plaza. To be fair, they’d exchanged numbers, but he’d been ass-deep in the Bernhardt project since then. Still, Carlton seemed cool, and it wasn’t like Jaq had a life outside of work, especially with Tanisha gone. Carlton had insisted he bore no romantic intent—his exact words—and Jaq’d frowned at that because he was pretty sure dude was arrow-straight the way he’d checked for rings. That he maybe wasn’t? Was interesting, but didn’t change Jaq’s attraction, which hovered around zero, apparently on both ends.
He needed the reprieve, though. He’d spent days wondering and worrying about whether Matt would approach him. If Jaq even wanted him to. Or, hell, had Patti noticed the way they looked at each other, the way Jaq had barely been able to keep his eyes off Matt’s dick? Jesus, he was a mess. Especially since he still didn’t like the guy, no matter how efficient he was, or how the memory of that dick thickening before Jaq’s eyes had fueled days of fantasies. For the first time since he could remember, Jaq ached to get laid, and he had nothing to distract him, until tonight. If he found someone to spend a few hours with and relieve a bit of stress, so much the better.
That didn’t mean he was going out of his way, so he opted for jeans, a T-shirt, and loafers. No socks, which never ceased to give Gran fits. Good thing she was on the afternoon shift at work and couldn’t harass him about it. He was dressed and headed out in twenty minutes.
Jaq usually drove, but he didn’t feel like paying for the garage or circling the block four times to find a parking spot. He called for a ride and hopped in, leaning against the plush leather seat and closing his eyes.
If he was being fair, part of his issue with Matt was that he was fine as fuck. Jaq hadn’t expected that. Impeccably dressed, which was to be assumed, but after hours, when the rest of the crew had gone home and it was just them and maybe one of the designers, he’d loosen that tie, shuck his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He’d run a hand over his fade, then down across his mouth, like he could be himself, if only for a few hours. The cords on his arms strained, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and Jaq got hard without fail. He didn’t know what Matt was into and tried to focus on the job, but he’d been caught more than once staring. Matt knew it too, the way he made sure Jaq could look his fill. He’d looked back too, but Jaq couldn’t tell if it was from desire or anger. With him, that line was razor-thin. If the man would keep his mouth shut, instead of opening it and reminding Jaq what an ass he was, Jaq’d be good to go.
“Hey man, you good?”
Shit. The driver had stopped at the entrance, had his hazards on and looked more than a little impatient. Jaq was losing it, and he shook his head. “My bad. Thanks.”
The driver grunted and Jaq climbed out the car. Shit, Lauriol was always a madhouse. With both outdoor and rooftop dining, plus three levels inside, people loved to post up and chill during long summer days. He checked his phone and was relieved to see a message from Carlton. On the rooftop. Bet.
JaQuan pushed through the mass of patrons congregated in the foyer and jogged up the stairs to the roof. It was always the busiest part, the see-and-be-seen spot, and for a second he thought he wouldn’t recognize Carlton even if he did find him. But he heard a boisterous laugh in the far corner and couldn’t help his smile. The guy had been a goofball, but he made Jaq laugh. He could imagine the two of them getting into some shit.
Carlton spotted him as he got close and waved, his smile brightening. Another man turned as well, his eyes coursing over Jaq nearly the same as Matt’s had. And he kinda liked it.
; “You made it,” Carlton said as Jaq reached them, pulling him into an unexpected man-hug. Friends. Right. “JaQuan Reynolds, Lawrence Jackson. Met him getting Trey settled. His son’s a junior there.”
“’Sup, man.” Jaq held his hand out and Lawrence shook it, holding on maybe a minute too long. He was fair-skinned, just a touch darker than Tanisha, with hazel eyes and slight graying at the temples. A pretty boy for sure. With undisguised interest in him. Okay, he could roll with this.
“Good to meet you,” Lawrence said, and Jaq put on his best smile. “Carlton was telling me your daughter just started.” At Jaq’s nod, Lawrence studied him, his eyes roving over Jaq’s chest before looking up. “You look young to have a freshman. Of course, black don’t crack, so you could be sixty for all I know, and if that’s the case I want your routine, and I ain’t into skincare.”
Jaq sputtered, then laughed. He was a damn lie. “I wish. I’m thirty-five. Got a little reckless in high school, got a child in college now.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, and held his breath. It was always a big deal. Those moms who thought Dad picking up the kids or taking them shopping was cute? Yeah, they didn’t think that when Dad was nineteen with a two-year-old, and it never changed. He’d stopped trying to make friends with other parents the same time he put Tanisha in K-3, so even now, when she was grown and out of the house, he still waited for the inevitable hammer to drop.
But Lawrence just shrugged. “She your only?”
“Yeah. Figured out quick I’m not into the fairer sex like that, so another one was never on my radar.”
Carlton laughed softly, while Lawrence raised a brow. “All genders have their perks,” he drawled.
“Mmm,” Carlton hummed. “Strictly dickly over here.”
This time Lawrence sputtered, while Jaq stared at him. “So, you’re gay?” Carlton winked and nodded, and Jaq turned to Lawrence. “And you’re...pan?”