Warders, Volume One

by Mary Calmes

  During the times we had worked together on the publicity for his reality show, Ryan had made every day fun. One of my favorite times with him had been a charity event for the homeless. It had been a huge party, very exclusive and wildly successful, raised a ton of money, and he had shown his happiness with how everything turned out by inviting everyone who worked on the event to attend it as well. I had watched him hold court, seen all the gorgeous men who trailed after him, and felt thoroughly intimidated. I had left early; there was no way to compete with other models for his attention.

  Ryan’s Rundown had been on the air for three years and was about all the things you could do in San Francisco with your partner to keep the zing in your relationship, from attending cooking classes together to having a picnic at the beach to getting dressed up and hitting the town for a night of dancing. It was fun to watch, and he never took himself too seriously. His audience was as addicted to his personality as they were to his face. People, especially men, threw themselves in his path wherever he went. His conquests were legendary, his sexual appetite consuming. I never stood a chance of capturing his interest, but it was always flattering that whenever he saw me, he remembered my name.

  “How are you?” he asked, stepping closer to me, his head tilting back just a bit to look into my face. As I was six three to his six feet, he had to look up at me just a little.

  “I’ve been better,” I sighed, taking in the sensuous lips, how full and dark they were.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  I realized I was staring and stopped, looking away, but then had to look back or be rude. His eyes were so beautiful, the different colors in them, flecked with gold and copper, the brown, gray, and an ever-changing green that sometimes caught the light and almost glowed. Funny that Ryan Dean never failed to bring out the poet in me.

  “Nothing. How’ve you been? I saw you on a lot of stuff, lots of guest appearances, and you did one of your shows from New York during Fashion Week, very cool.”

  “Yeah, that’s great,” he said dismissively, his gaze not moving from mine. “But I was doing too much and the show took me away from home. I don’t want that.”

  “Why not? Don’t you want your show to get picked up by a network?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  He gave me a wicked arch of eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

  “’Cause I am. Why don’t you want a syndicated television show?”

  “Just don’t.”

  “Why?” I pressed him.

  “It’s not my dream.”

  “But you could be a household name.”

  “No thanks.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Not to you,” he said. “I need my show to be just big enough to keep me and my crew employed, help the station, still be current, and actually provide a public service. Any more than that is excessive.”

  He could conquer the world if he wanted. Wasn’t that what he wanted?

  “There are things I hope to get a chance to have.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t want to pry. “Okay, so—”

  “But none of that matters tonight,” he said, and I watched him bite his bottom lip. I wondered if he even realized he’d done it. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  It took me a second. “I’m sorry?”

  “You were supposed to call me.”

  “When? We finished all the work for your—”

  “No,” he cut me off, placing a hand over my heart. “I told you to call me.”

  I tried to think back to the last time I had seen him. We had wrapped the spring campaign for his show, and then there was the press release and the launch… what was I missing? “Wait. Why would you have needed to talk to me?”

  “You really have no idea, do you?”

  “No.” I racked my inebriated brain. “The only reason for me to call would have been if something went wrong, and as far as I know, that event went off flaw—”

  “Something getting messed up was not the only reason to call,” he assured me, and I saw him swallow hard, saw the muscles in his jaw clench.

  “Yeah, but—”

  “You didn’t even show up to my spring cotillion fundraiser, the one you planned.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, well, it turned out that my friend Melina had her baby that night, and I was her coach.”

  He nodded. “Well, then, I guess I’ll forgive you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, my mouth dry, my voice failing me. I could feel the heat radiating off the man as he stepped even closer, his thigh brushing mine, his breath ghosting over my face.

  “You’re a hard man to get ahold of. Every time I call your office, your assistant tells me you’re busy. You never answer your cell, and apparently, my e-mails are going to the wrong guy.”

  Note to self: kill Conner. My assistant had turned away Ryan Dean? Was he high? “I had no idea you were trying to get ahold of me.”

  “Well, now that we’ve got everything cleared up, how ’bout I drive you back to my place and make you some dinner?”

  I squinted at him from behind my glasses. “I’m actually here for dinner.”

  “Oh? With who? Not the guy I just got rid of?”

  “He was supposed to be my date.”

  “Supposed to be?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, “I found him at work giving another guy a blowjob.”

  Unlike both of my friends, who had been livid, his snort of laughter was instant.

  “It’s not funny,” I scolded him.

  His low chuckle filled me with warmth. “No?”

  “Hell no,” I said with no conviction whatsoever.

  One gold eyebrow arched as he studied me.

  I shrugged. “Anyway, it’s my fault, I guess. I must not be all that interesting.”

  “It’s not you, Mr. Nash,” he told me.

  “What’re you doing here?” I ignored the compliment, looking around for the people who normally trailed after him. The man was never alone.

  “I came by myself.”

  “You sure? You can tell me if you’re on a date. I promise not to leak it to the tabloids,” I teased him.

  “I don’t date.”

  “Why not?”

  “Everybody bores me.”

  I chuckled softly. “I see.”

  “Except you, Julian Nash. You don’t bore me one bit.”

  He was trying to give me a heart attack. “How’dya know? We’ve never been on a date.”

  “And I’d like to remedy that, so… come home with me.”

  “How is that a date?”

  “I dunno. I don’t care. Just come home with me.”

  I sighed deeply. “God, I wish I could.”

  “Why can’t you? Just blow off your dinner.”

  But I couldn’t, and when I explained who the dinner was with, his face lit up so fast that I could barely breathe. He was a vision of heat and sex, and the way he looked at me with his narrowed cat eyes was enough to turn me into a human torch. The man was trying to kill me by lavishing me with all his attention.

  “I have an idea.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “I’ll be your date for dinner. Then afterwards you have to come home with me.”

  “Are you serious?” I squinted at him.

  “Very.”

  “Well, as nice as that offer is, you don’t have—”

  “I’m not placating you; my motives are completely selfish, I assure you. I’ve waited more than long enough.”

  I didn’t believe him for a second. He was taking pity on me because I must have looked like hell. “You know I appreciate what—”

  “Oh.” His voice rose. “Was that guy going as your friend or your—”

  My laughter cut him off. “Everybody at work knows I’m gay, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t keep secrets.”

  “Well, okay, then, you have no reason to turn me down.”

  And he was right, I didn’t. �
��Okay, Dean, you’re on. What am I, stupid?”

  “Should I answer?” His eyes glittered, wicked with humor. “’Cause you didn’t call me.”

  I grunted, taking his hand and leading him through the crowd toward the back. When he stopped suddenly, I looked over my shoulder at him. “What? Changed your mind already?”

  He shook his head. “No, I just….” He lifted our joined hands. “This is nice. Nobody ever just holds my hand.”

  “Why?”

  “I usually just fuck,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I nodded, smiling. “Well, can I hold your hand first?”

  “Smart-ass,” he muttered. I tightened my hold on him and tugged him after me.

  AS SOON as we walked into the private back room, all eyes were on Ryan and me, and I felt a flush of pride that not only was there a smart, funny, and gorgeous man with me but more importantly, one who was apparently kind of into me. No matter what happened, Ryan Dean was there with me and my best friend and my best friend’s wife on one of the most important nights of my life. I would remember it always.

  The best part of the evening for me was that our big dinner was taking place at a high-end steakhouse, but with all of us in casual clothes. Suits and ties would not have been us. Me in jeans and a sweater, Cash in corduroys and wingtips, his wife in downplayed elegance—that was us.

  Given the level of casualness Cash and I had requested, I was surprised by how many people had turned out to join us for dinner. I felt slightly uncomfortable being the center of attention and so made a beeline for my boss, Miles Teruya, the managing director of the San Francisco office. After he shook my hand and squeezed my shoulder, he told Ryan how good it was to see him again. Miles remembered my date just as well as any of the rest of us. Before I could say another word, my boss turned to speak to Mr. Davis, drawing his attention.

  The owner and CEO of the company I worked for rose from his chair and offered me his hand, just like it happened every day. “Such a pleasure,” the man addressed me kindly.

  I felt the sincerity rolling off him. “Mr. Davis, this is Ryan Dean.”

  He held out his hand instantly, no hesitation, not a second of lag time. “Pleasure, Ryan.”

  “And you, sir.”

  “Julian, I’d like you to meet Brian Santos, our new head of strategic marketing in New York.” I extended my hand to the man. “And this is Ryan Dean. Ryan, Brian Santos.”

  “Hey.” Ryan shook his hand as well.

  “Please sit. Let’s get you two something to drink,” Mr. Davis said quickly.

  I looked over at Cash, saw him waggle his eyebrows at me. The delight on Phoebe’s face was transparent, and I watched Ryan respond to the siren call that was my best friend’s wife. She was too adorable to resist. He went around the table fast. Cash watched his wife rise to offer her hand to my date.

  “It’s so nice that you could join us,” she gushed. “I never miss your show.”

  “Thank you.” He reached out to touch her cheek. “God, now I get the whole glowing pregnant woman thing, huh?”

  She sighed deeply, staring at him. “I knew you’d be a dream in person.”

  His eyes glittered, and I saw her melt right there. “And may I say that Cash is a very lucky man to have a goddess on his arm,” Ryan told her.

  I glanced at Cash, and he looked at me. Both of us were waiting for her to laugh or tell him he was full of shit or smack him or something. Certainly she wouldn’t let him get away with such a cheesy line.

  “Oh,” she purred as she reached for him. “Aren’t you wonderful?”

  I looked at Cash, and he mouthed the word “hormones” at me.

  Their hands were a tangle as they started talking almost frantically. She wanted to know everything about him, down to the smallest detail. He wanted the same from her. You would have thought they were twins separated at birth.

  We ate, drank, and talked. Ryan had sparkling cider with Phoebe, which I found charming. Cash was surprised that Ryan was an avid soccer player; Ryan couldn’t believe Cash had been to Graceland nine times. We laughed and laughed, and Ryan bet Phoebe five dollars she wouldn’t drink the little shot glass of dressing that came with her salad. She had to drink it with a straw. He ordered her more after she did, and he paid up.

  Mr. Davis watched us all with the most amused expression on his face. When someone tried to bring up work, he ignored them until they quit pressing the issue. He just wanted to visit; business could be done anytime. Laughing was for the moment.

  Halfway through dinner, I leaned in close and told Ryan how much I appreciated him being there. I noticed the tremor that ran through him as I lifted my lips from the hairsbreadth they were from his ear.

  “No thanks needed,” he whispered back, his eyes absorbing my face as his hand moved under the table, fingers lacing with mine. “I’m having a great time. Your friends are amazing.”

  “How so?”

  “They actually want the best for you. Cash and you work at the same place, but he’s not jealous of you at all.”

  “He’s my best friend and my partner; he’s the one watching my back.”

  “And he actually will,” he said, like it was weird. “You can count on him.”

  “Do you have people in your life you trust?”

  “For some things,” he answered vaguely, “not all.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.”

  He caught his breath. “That’s okay,” he got out, “and you just called me baby.”

  I’d gotten familiar way too fast. It always happened when I liked someone. “Crap. I’m sor—”

  “Don’t be,” he cut me off, tightening his fingers that were entwined with mine so I couldn’t pull my hand away. “You wanna talk like I belong to you… it’s fine with me.”

  Which was a dangerous statement to make.

  “Julian?” He was studying my face. “Are you okay?”

  “I dunno.”

  He bumped me with his shoulder and gave his attention back to Phoebe. I realized that I wanted his eyes back on me. The fact that he had not let go of my hand, forcing me to eat with my left, filled my stomach with butterflies. When was the last time I had felt like this?

  “Oh, look,” Christine Abrams, one of the account managers from New York, gasped across from me. “That’s Kevin Winters. He just closed that deal with the military to build the circuitry for something or other.”

  “That’s right,” Brian said slowly to anyone who was listening. “Did you see in Forbes they’re calling him the sixty-million dollar man?” It seemed to be a rhetorical question because he didn’t wait for an answer. “His business would be nice.”

  “Yes, it would,” Christine said flatly.

  “We already have it,” Miles assured her and Brian. “Cash and Julian did all the PR for his first merger with Ramsey Software.”

  “Really?” Brian commented. “Well, that’s excellent. Cash, please invite the man over.”

  “Not me,” he said, leaning over his wife and slapping my leg hard. “He doesn’t know me. Stand up, Julie, so he can see ya.”

  I suggested that maybe Mr. Winters was busy and shouldn’t be interrupted, but Brian was insistent. I stood up and walked around the table at the same time Mr. Winters glanced around the room. His face brightened when he saw me, and he immediately started across the floor.

  “Oh shit,” Brian breathed, clearly surprised at his own reaction as well as the fact that the man actually knew me. The way he looked up at me was funny.

  Kevin Winters was in a Hugo Boss suit that looked great on him, the cut showing off his wide shoulders and narrow waist. I noticed what always struck me about him, the way the man seemed so comfortable in his own skin.

  “Hey,” he called over.

  I tipped my head at him as he walked up to me, hand held out.

  “How the hell are you?” I asked as he grabbed my hand and put his other on my shoulder.

  “I’m doing really well, haven’t you read the news?”
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br />   “I see your wardrobe is improving.” I teased him.

  His face showed his ease in my company. “Yeah, whatever—don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

  Tall and muscular, he wasn’t what most people had in their mind as a stereotypical software developer. He had told me that because he was African-American, he still sometimes he ran into prejudice. I hadn’t believed him, and he had given me a funny look. We’d had a long conversation about human nature. I enjoyed his company and the fact that he was very bright. It was nice when someone could follow your train of thought.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking over all the people at the table. “Looks like you’re celebrating something.”

  “We are. Cash and I just got promoted, and our CEO Kelly Davis is here. Lemme introduce you to everyone.”

  He reached out and put a hand back on my shoulder. “You’re not leaving, are you? I mean, now that you’re moving up the food chain, you’re not going to be relocated or something?”

  “No.”

  “And you and Cash will still handle my events personally?”

  “Of course. We’re not—”

  “Oh, hey, Cash!” Mr. Winters walked around the others to hold out a hand to my best friend, who stood and shook it. “Good to see you.”

  “And you.” Cash’s voice was warm, and I knew he was pleased that Kevin was genuinely happy to see him.

  Mr. Winters turned back to look at me. “So tell me, what now?”

  I introduced him to Mr. Davis and Brian Santos, walked him around the table to Miles, and then had him shake hands with all the sales reps, including Christine Abrams. Finally, I walked him around the table to meet Phoebe and Ryan. He was really pleased to meet both of them, praising Cash to his wife and me to my date. It was nice of him, and let me know how much he really valued me and my partner.