by Jayce Ellis
Lawrence smiled, his tongue darting out across his upper lip. “I am. I’m also divorced, with a sixteen-year-old, thirteen-year-old, and eight-year-old twins to go along with my junior. So getting laid is the last thing on my mind.”
“Shit, man. Blessings be upon you,” Carlton muttered. “Hell, I’m still trying to figure out how I ended up with my nephew. I mean, I know it’s because my parents couldn’t deal with him being both gay and femme, but it cut my sex life off at the fucking knees. And he was already seventeen when I got him.”
Jaq sipped on the margarita swirl Lawrence offered him. These guys were open, not judging him, and clearly gave two shits about his sexuality. He’d said it as a gauntlet, to make sure they wouldn’t trip before he got too comfortable. If they could be open, he’d at least attempt to do the same.
“At least you had a sex life to cut off. I’ve had bathroom and back-alley hookups, and one weekend at a conference. Sum extent of my escapades.” Damn, that was pathetic. The type of thing he’d have been better off keeping to himself.
Lawrence looked at him curiously. “Clearly you’ve spent some time with women. How’d you know you’re gay?”
Jaq coughed and stared down at his drink. “Maybe the fact I had to pretend she was her brother to get off.”
Lawrence closed his eyes like he was praying for patience. When he opened them, they danced in laughter. Which matched Carlton’s, and he was practically howling. Enough to turn heads, which was hard to do at this spot.
“It’s official,” Carlton said through his laughs. “I like this cat.”
Lawrence raised his mug. “Same.”
JaQuan looked between the two of them and held up his too. Carlton grabbed his and they clinked like the Three Musketeers or something. Kinda silly, but Jaq let himself relax for what felt like the first time in forever.
They chilled and talked, well past daylight turning to night, when the Edison lights came on overhead and gave the spot both a festive and almost romantic feel. The slightest breeze was the only indication summer was turning to fall. He munched on enough chips and salsa to constitute a full meal, but the conversation didn’t cease.
The rooftop never thinned out. At the end of summer, before folks got caught up in school and work and vacation days waned, they did whatever they could to grab the last little bit of what felt like freedom.
Including, apparently, Bernhardt’s point man and a stunningly gorgeous Black woman. Good goddamn, her 4A hair—Tanisha had grilled him on hair types for years—was loose, falling heavily to her shoulders, which meant it was probably at least halfway down her back straight. A strapless maxi dress that emphasized her curves and had everyone watching. Beautiful, and Matt stood next to her, his hand resting protectively against her back. He scanned the crowd until he found Jaq, and held his gaze for a moment before the corner of his mouth tilted up. Jaq flicked his nose and turned around.
“You good?” Carlton asked next to him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No. Some guy I’m on a project with. Gets on my last nerve and would of course show up here.”
“That’s not better,” Lawrence said, his voice deadpan.
“He giving you problems? Want me to throw a drink on him?” Carlton’s voice was teasing, but the thread of genuine concern lay underneath. That...was nice. Jaq exhaled.
“Thanks, but no,” he said between laughs. “He’s just an asshole and not who I wanted to see on my night out.”
Carlton and Lawrence were watching Matt now too, and his eyes hadn’t wavered. One brow rose before he took a sip of what looked vaguely like sangria, only turning when his partner tapped him on the shoulder. Carlton whistled. “Okay but, no offense, he could break my back,” he said, his eyes fixed on Matt’s ass.
Jaq pushed down the surge of jealousy. Carlton was right. That ass was magnificent.
“Or I could break his.” That was Lawrence and, wow. He seemed so clean-cut. But whatever he was thinking as they watched Matt sip on his drink was downright lewd.
The woman with him craned her neck up, and Matt dipped his head, like he was whispering something in her ear. She laughed and nudged him with her elbow, and he squeezed her around the shoulders. Then he looked back at them, first at Jaq’s companions, then him, and raised one brow. Jaq bristled under the scrutiny, but couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what the hell to say anyway. Carlton whistled again and Jaq turned his back.
Lawrence finished the rest of his drink and set it down, then sighed. “Y’all, look, it’s been real. Good, to be honest. But I have the kids tomorrow, so I need to get home.”
“You don’t get them on Fridays?” Carlton asked, his voice holding nothing but curiosity.
Lawrence shook his head. “They have gymnastics, ballet, and eight million games on Saturday, and they always forget something if they come with me Friday night. Easier for everyone if I go to their games and bring them with me when they’re done. I drop them off Tuesday mornings. But,” he continued, fishing into his back pocket before pulling some bills out, “it’d be nice to get together again. It was nice to remember I’m someone outside of Dad or Mr. Jackson.”
That about summed it up. He and Carlton both nodded. He’d forgotten that for too long, that he had an existence besides being Tanisha’s dad or Patti’s employee. This was a good reminder.
They closed their tabs and made their way down the stairs together, Jaq conscious of Matt’s eyes on him the entire time.
* * *
When Tanisha was younger, she’d claimed that if you looked up “torture” in the dictionary, a calendar with the M circled would be next to it. She hated Mondays, and Jaq hadn’t had the heart to tell her he rarely felt that way. Even when he spent weekends running around like a madman ferrying her to and from activities, it was nice to have a break from responding to Patti’s emergencies and moments of sheer brilliance, followed by the arduous task of making them reality. But that downtime made him antsy, and by Sunday night he was almost always ready to get back on his grind.
This morning, though, she was right. Friday had thrown him for a loop. Matt’s unwavering stare had kept him hard all weekend. The way he’d trailed his eyes down Jaq’s body before returning to his face, refusing to look away until his companion got his attention. Jaq had jacked off to the thought of Matt watching him, commanding him to come under Matt’s careful gaze. He hadn’t been this high-strung since he was thirteen.
He didn’t think Matt and the woman were dating. For all that he wore on Jaq’s last nerves, he couldn’t imagine Matt so blatantly checking him out if he were with someone else. Unless they were open or polyam, but...he was letting his mind veer off in different directions that didn’t change the underlying facts. Matt made him hard, and he hated it.
He pulled into the parking garage and gave silent thanks that the elevator was empty. The office’s quiet calm first thing in the morning was so at odds with the almost manic way it ran during the day. He got into the office early for just this reason—to enjoy the peace and tranquility before hell broke loose.
Leaving the lights off, he veered right down the hall, past the conference room, past the stockroom that held various swatches of fabric, throws, sewing machines, everything you needed to bring an idea to life immediately for inspection. Down to the kitchen, where he made himself a single cup of coffee before turning on the carafe for the rest of the crew.
The slightest clink alerted him that he wasn’t alone, shooting sparks of awareness up and down his arms. Only one person it could be, and Jaq rolled his neck and shoulders to get his mind right. He walked back to the front, not surprised to find Matt there since he’d made damn sure to get the man a key, but Jaq was admittedly curious about the lost expression on his face.
“You’re here early,” Jaq said. Earlier than normal anyway.
Matt frowned, then turned to face him. “The lights are off.�
��
“Yeah. I like the quiet.”
Matt craned his head. “What’s that got to do with the lights?”
Jaq reached over and flicked them on, squinting for a minute before focusing on Matt. The heat in Matt’s eyes matched what he’d seen at the restaurant, before he closed them and took in a deep breath. When he opened them, the carefully neutral expression Jaq loathed was back in place. He was tempted to turn the damn lights off again, if only to get that heat back.
“I thought Patricia might come in early and we could discuss concepts before the day got away from us,” Matt said, turning toward the conference room.
Jaq snorted. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Patti rarely shows before ten. She’ll be in at nine today for the staff meeting, but don’t count on that the rest of the week. The late nights are enough.”
“How does anything get done? And do you have any more coffee?” Jaq watched him inhale deeply, then stare at his cup like he was considering the pros and cons of just taking it.
Jaq cradled it to his chest, then inclined his head and went back to the kitchen, Matt behind him. “Don’t get it twisted,” he said, answering Matt’s other question. “Patti works like a demon, just not on what people would consider office hours. You don’t want to know the number of times I’ve gotten calls in the middle of the night so she could hash out an idea.”
One dark brow rose. “You on-call for her?”
He shrugged, not sure why the question felt more personal than business. “Sunday through Thursday, yes. Friday and Saturday, unless we’re on deadline, no. I’m her EA. Kinda comes with the job.”
Matt took his time making his cup before answering. But the door opened and closed down the hall before he could respond, breaking the moment. Which Jaq was glad for. Really.
“Hey, Jackie!” Laurel, their head designer, bounded into the kitchen and came to a screeching halt at the sight of Matt, tall and imposing, propped against the counter, sipping quietly. Her eyes widened and she took a discreet step back. He got it.
Jaq extended a hand and pulled her forward, settling an arm around her shoulder and pointing. “Laurel, this is Matt Donaldson. He’s the liaison from Bernhardt. He’ll be with us for a few months to get this collection ready. Matt, you’ve heard of Laurel. She’s handled most of our major product launches.”
Matt held his hand out, the smile on his face breathtaking. He’d never looked at Jaq with that kind of warm sincerity. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to meet you last week. How was your vacation? Vegas, right?”
Laurel grinned and nodded. “Bachelorette party. The perfect getaway.”
“And I suppose what happened there will stay there?”
“God, I hope so.” She laughed, her eyes a little wide, a little breathless.
Matt’s smile was sinful, his charm offensive on eleven, and Jaq had to get the hell out. He left them to get the conference room ready for their meeting, his mind set. Over the weekend he’d volleyed the idea of taking himself off Bernhardt and overseeing other projects, but knew Patti would resist. She liked having him close by, and Jaq got that, he did. But Bernhardt wasn’t their only project, and they had other collections that needed marketing and preparation for their launch dates, some of which were sooner than this one. Besides, with Laurel back, he didn’t really need to be there. She had as much experience dealing with Patti as he did, and as head designer, she was infinitely more important. That he wasn’t sure he could work that close to Matt for the next three months without dropping to his knees was only peripherally relevant. And he would tell himself that until he believed it.
The office grew louder as coworkers arrived, including Patti, five minutes before the meeting start time. Her arms were weighed down with paper, her sweater, and swatches of fabric, and Jaq hurried to take them off her. She smiled, her eyes light and shimmery. That shimmer told Jaq she’d busted her ass over the weekend to come up with ideas, and they were two shakes from tumbling out.
He laughed and led her to her room. “Five minutes, Patti, then you can tell me all about it.”
She straight giggled and Jaq’s shoulders shook. He left her to print the agenda for the meeting. He’d learned his first week on the job that not having one led to madness. He’d also learned that keeping meetings to less than an hour was best. Longer than that and Patti became petulant. For that matter, so did he.
JaQuan finished setting up just as Patti bustled in, Laurel and the rest of their design crew trailing behind her. Patti blew out a noisy breath and settled in the seat next to the head of the table. He’d seen the confusion on Matt’s face that first meeting, and hadn’t bothered to fill him in. For reasons he didn’t entirely understand, having him there kept her calm, and everyone rolled with it. Including, now, Matt, and he stifled a snicker at the memory of the last meeting.
“Oh! Do we need Matt here for this?” Patti asked while Jaq handed out the agendas.
“For Bernhardt, yes. But we have other projects to discuss first and it’s not our best idea to have the competition listening in.”
“Right. Right, that makes sense. Okay, let’s go.”
The first twenty minutes were uneventful, each design lead letting them know the status of their projects. Since they talked to Jaq as issues arose, nothing caught him off guard. The sales team gave a breakdown of how they were doing in the various stores. The answer was excellent, and Jaq mentally fist-pumped. They were on track for a lovely bonus. As they wound down, handling everything except Bernhardt, Jaq rapped the table and waited for the buzz to quiet.
“We need to discuss distribution of resources,” he began. Everyone turned to him. He cleared his throat, a little surprised by the catch in his voice.
“Bernhardt is a milestone project, we know that. We need everyone’s best to make sure we meet the deadlines and produce the quality of collection it deserves. But what about the rest of the contracts? How are we making sure that everything stays on track with those while we’re consumed with this?”
Patti blinked at him. She hadn’t thought of that. Which didn’t surprise him. She’d hired him so she could throw herself into one project and everything else would run smoothly, because that’s what the fuck Jaq did. And that’s why his plan was a good one, personal feelings about Matt notwithstanding.
“Patti,” he said, turning to her, “I think I should be off the Bernhardt project.”
“No!” she yelled, pushing back in her chair. “No, there’s no way I can finish this without you,” she finished, her voice a little panicked and wobbly at the end.
Someone else might have been embarrassed by the outburst. But Patti’s emotions ran the gamut and it was ordinarily easier to run with them. Still, Jaq saw Laurel cringe across the table. He got it. Keeping her on track wouldn’t be easy, or fun, but there’d be a fantastic bonus for her when it was over. And he really did need to make sure nothing else fell off. The other projects were at a higher level of readiness, but hell, they were already in negotiations for next year. They’d come to a standstill if he didn’t do this.
Patti gripped his arm, her eyes wide. Jaq had to calm her down. “Patti, you’ve got this. Laurel will take care of it, and I’ll make sure the rest of the business doesn’t fall off a cliff while you’re at it.”
“But—”
“Patricia.” Jaq said the word softly, barely a whisper, so only she could hear. And it worked. Patricia was the business name, the you’re-the-head-bitch name. She liked to pretend she wasn’t, that she was just another designer, and it was a lovely little fallacy. But the company had her name on it, and sometimes she had to make those hard calls. Like now.
“Okay,” she whispered, sounding every ounce like Tanisha when he couldn’t make everything right. Then she shook herself and straightened. “You’re right. I got this.”
“Damn right.” They finished up the rest of the meeting with no fuss, and Jaq st
ood to leave. He wasn’t needed for the next part. “You want me to call Matt in?”
Patti moved into the seat that Jaq had vacated, closed her eyes, then opened them and shook her hair away from her face. “Yes, please.”
Jaq walked down the hall to the little office they’d set up for Matt. With any luck, this would be his last substantive communication with the man. And that didn’t bring him a stitch of the relief he’d been expecting.
Chapter Five
Matt shrugged off his jacket and flopped down on the couch. It didn’t sink, instead providing him with a showroom-like stiffness. Good to test, not to take home. What the hell good was a couch he couldn’t sleep on? The executive apartment Bernhardt set him up in was pre-furnished, and Matt recognized most of the brands. All ones the store carried, of course. A model apartment, but he had to live there. He threw an arm over his face and groaned.
Laurel was an amazing designer, and her implementation of Patti’s ideas was so impressive it scared him. But even though he barely knew her, she seemed...off somehow. Distracted, and he didn’t know her well enough to say anything. Patti was oblivious, waving off any attempt to talk about something not the project. Also understandable.
Of course, the one person Matt had considered talking to, one who might have some insight, had summarily removed himself from the project.
Matt scoffed, standing and padding over to the bar to pour himself a glass of bourbon, then lay back down and sipped. And look, he got it. Kingsley had contracts with multiple stores, and working on one didn’t mean everything else could go to shit. But Matt knew there was more to it.
He thought back to that Friday. JaQuan—Mr. Reynolds—out with two other men, both attractive in their own right, enjoying his evening. The strange stirring in his stomach he rarely experienced. One that signaled attraction. One that he’d felt more in two weeks than he had in ten years. The desire that throbbed through his veins when their eyes locked. His inability to look away from Mr. Reynolds as he left, even when Kennie craned her neck to see what had him so fascinated.