by Megan Derr
"I'm protecting the interests of my client," Jason said. "What's weird about a lawyer doing his job? As you have often said, all I do is my job."
Dai shook his head. "You're an entertainment lawyer. Anything else, you transfer us to a different floor. Since when do you look after Uncle Jeff and Jet? What game are you really playing?"
"No game," Jason said, slowly resuming his own seat. "Doubt me all you like, I'm just doing my job. I was close to Uncle Jeff—closer than anyone else, anyway. I promised him I'd take care of his only son."
"He could have taken care of his only son himself," Dai said coldly.
Jason stared at him, matching the cool manner. "When was the last time you called mom and dad just to say hey?"
"When was the last time they called me?"
"If you don't make the effort yourself, you don't get to bitch," Jason said. "You can leave, if the only reason you came to see me was to pick a fight. I have work to do. You want to whine to somebody, pay a shrink."
Dai flipped him off. "I'm here because of Jet."
"Jet can take care of himself," Jason said, even though that was not entirely true.
"Not really," Dai said, unwittingly echoing Jason's thoughts. "Jet takes care of the band and shit, but he's pretty good at not taking care of himself. With everything else going on, he doesn't need whatever bullshit you're scheming."
"Get out," Jason said flatly. "You want to think I'm an obedient, kiss ass drone who does whatever daddy wants, fine. You go right ahead. But I won't tolerate being accused of wanting to hurt people, of willfully hurting them. If you honestly think that of me, then you don't know me at all. Get the hell out of my house."
Dai stared at him, clearly taken aback. "Jay—"
"I mean it," Jason said, fueling his anger with his hurt. "I don't deserve those kinds of accusations, not from a spoiled brat who threw everything offered to him back in his parents' faces and flounced off. You and Jet have a lot of nerve calling out anyone on being bastards."
"I'm so goddamn sorry I didn't want to live the life plotted out for me!" Dai snarled.
Jason's blood heated as he got good and riled. Nothing like rehashing an argument with a sibling to start the day off with a bang. "They wouldn't have stopped you! Did you ever try sitting down and talking? Did you ever try to do anything other than sulk and whine and wait until the last minute to run away? Maybe it looks like finding freedom to you, but to mother and father and Uncle Jeff, it was a big 'fuck you and everything you've given me'. Uncle Jeff and Aunt Beth didn't stop talking to Jet because he turned to music. They stopped talking to him because he made it perfectly clear that he didn't want anything to do with the life they worked hard to provide for him. Uncle Jeff built his company up from a joke of a restaurant, wanted something his only son could be proud of, something he could give, when his own dad gave him nothing, but leftovers. And Jet said fuck that and ran away. How the hell would you take that?"
Dai opened his mouth, but then closed it again. "It's not that simple. There was more to it than that."
"Of course there was," Jason said, suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever. "But nobody would ever sit down and talk about it. I can't get anyone to talk unless, ha ha, there's a lawyer involved."
Heaving a long sigh, Dai slumped in his chair. "I just don't want Jet hurt; he's been hurt enough."
"I'm not going to hurt him," Jason said irritably. "Contrary to what you both think, I don't hate you. I find you extremely aggravating, there's a difference."
Dai's mouth twitched in reluctant amusement. "Whatever. I'm not nearly as aggravating as a man who looks ready for GQ at five in the damn morning. Fine, you're not going to hurt him or use him in some scheme. You're still acting funny."
Jason heaved a sigh, strongly tempted for a single minute to tell Dai the truth—just to be done with it, just to see the look on his face. But it would only do more harm than good, and their families had already suffered enough harm. "A man to whom I was close just died, my father is trying to poach his company, and people are threatening his son—my current client. How am I supposed to act, Dai? Tell me, please."
"Right, okay. I'm the asshole here. Not what I meant, but I concede it. I'm sorry. Should have listened when Coop said I was getting riled over shadows."
"Obviously your smarter half," Jason retorted. "I'm surprised he let you out of the house this late."
Dai grinned. "He fell asleep after we got home from the club. Normal people actually sleep at this hour. Weird, huh?"
Jason sighed. "Oh, to be normal. While you're here, take these papers." He shoved a stack at Dai. "Get the band to sign them. Have them back to me by Friday, if you can. I want to get that wrapped up once and for all."
"Oh, is this that new merchandising contract? You actually got our terms?" In reply, Jason just gave him a disgusted look. Dai laughed, and gathered the papers up. "Of course you did. This is why we have you. No matter how irritating you are, you're the best."
"Oh, don't kiss my ass now," Jason said. "Just get those papers signed. I'll have the Australia contract done by the end of the month."
"Sweet. Jet is dying for that trip. The last time we went, I didn't think I'd be able to convince him to return home."
Jason shrugged, not interested in discussing the matter. He'd seen the photos from that trip; they'd been plastered everywhere. Jet and his possible new Aussie beau from some tone deaf pop group had been the talk of gossip rags for weeks. Which, in media time, was a couple of lifetimes.
He'd wanted to fly to Australia and murder the bastard even though he knew it was all bullshit. "Just see to it he doesn't pull any nude stunts again," he said. "I really get tired of fielding those calls."
Dai laughed. "I'll try, but no promises—"
"Why are we discussing me being naked?"
Jason jumped, turning to stare at the man standing in his study doorway. "Did I miss hearing you knock?"
"I didn't bother, door was unlocked and I figured you were asleep. Was just going to kill time writing or reading until you woke up. Sorry."
"It's fine," Jason said, ignoring the puzzled frown on Dai's face. "We couldn't sleep either."
Jet's brows shot up. "So Dai came over here? Since when do you two hang out without some sort of social obligation?"
"Dai thinks I've been acting funny. Apparently lawyers aren't capable of not being assholes. He wanted to ascertain your virtue was still intact."
"What virtue?" Jet asked, sounding slightly irritated, but mostly amused.
Jason shrugged, making an exaggerated show of indifference. "That was my response."
"Oh, shut the hell up," Dai said.
"Right, then," Jet said. "You divas have fun discussing my sexual history. I'm going to scare up some breakfast."
When he'd gone, Dai stood up. "Sorry to crash your house."
"Forget it," Jason said. "Next time do it for a less stupid reason, and we'll call it even. Now go away."
Dai laughed. "Going."
Jason walked him to the door, promptly locked it, and then went to find Jet. "So why are you really here this early?"
"Couldn't sleep," Jet said. "God's honest truth."
Something about his words, the tone, or maybe the undertone, kicked up the temperature of Jason's blood, made his body tighten. He was supposed to be resisting, keeping salt out of the wound, but fuck if his good intentions didn't burn right off the moment Jet stepped into his line of vision.
Ignoring it, he said, "We have a meeting with a potential buyer at noon. Casual lunch thing at Stef's."
"Casual and Stef do not belong in the same sentence, man," Jet replied. "I'm gonna have to go home and change for that."
"Just make sure you get a nap first."
"Yeah, yeah." Jet began to eat the bowl of cereal he'd poured.
Jason narrowed his eyes at the box in the trashcan and then glared at Jet. "Did you kill my cereal?"
"There's this thing called a grocery store, where you can buy more. I kn
ow you have a housekeeper, but surely you've heard of grocery stores?"
Flipping him off, Jason stole Jet's coffee and, ignoring the cries of protest, returned to his study. Jet followed him, still spooning cereal, and settled into the seat just vacated by Dai. "So is this potential buyer Lord? The guy Appleton warned me off of?"
"Yes," Jason said. "Lord will pay generously for it and not destroy it after he obtains it. He'll join it up with the rest of Paradise. Being part of that collective will bring in the kind of money that would have given even your father a heart attack."
Jet paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth, then dropped it back into the bowl. "Really? He won't fuck it up? That's the only reason I hesitate to sell."
"Xavier Lord has expressed a personal interest in the business," Jason replied. "You'll get no better promise. The man is so reliable the word 'honor' is coming back into fashion. People would hate him if it wasn't actually a hard thing to do. That's who we're meeting in a few hours. I've also heard rumors he's a big fan, so don't be surprised if he tries to coax a private concert out of you."
"Oh?" Jet asked with a laugh. "On his famous island? Dai will murder me if I refuse. Could be cool. So what do we need to discuss now?"
"Money, mostly, and any stipulations you want from him, that sort of thing."
Jet nodded and finally went back to eating his cereal. When he'd finished, milk and all, he set the empty bowl on the desk, stood up, and reached across the desk to steal his coffee back from Jason.
"First my cereal, now my coffee?"
"This was my coffee!"
"No, it really wasn't. Stealing doesn't make it yours—"
"Yes, it does," Jet cut in with a smirk. "My lawyer says so."
Jason shot him a look, refusing to give in to the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Shut up and pay attention. In fact, let's move this to the table, it'll be easier to spread everything out." He gathered up all the files and papers they needed and crossed the room to the large table set by the bank of windows that faced the side of the house. Outside was a bench swing surrounded by plants he honestly could not identify and a hammock stretched between two trees in front of a little pond filled with koi.
Sadly, he could not remember the last time he'd gotten to enjoy his little garden—and its whole purpose had been relaxation. Ah, well. Someday.
Jet sat down next to him, and they went to work. It was easy to forget that Jet, for all he had discarded the life, had once been well on his way to being a shrewd businessman. Talent had gotten the band far, but Jet's business acumen had taken it further.
He only called a halt when Jet twice drifted off in his seat. Rolling his eyes, and ignoring the affection that poured through him, Jason gave up on more work and stood. Carefully tugging a more dead-than-alive Jet to his feet, he led Jet out of the study and upstairs to his bedroom.
A few grumbles and muttered protests, and then Jet went right to sleep. Jason's stomach knotted, something in his chest squeezing tight when Jet sleepily murmured his name. Unable to resist, he bent and dropped a brief kiss on Jet's mouth. Straightening, he settled the blankets, turned off the light, and went to get Jet clean clothes before he took a nap himself.
Three hours later, they were both still fighting yawns. Dressed in a black suit with silver pinstripes and a silver and gold paisley tie—and with three cups of coffee in his system—Jason almost felt ready for the looming meeting. Mostly, he just felt ready to say screw it and crawl back into bed.
Beside him, no one would be able to glance at Jet and see the notorious drummer of Forever and a Dai. He'd rolled his eyes when he'd woken up to see his suit all laid out for him, but had put it on without further protest. It was a deep blue, nearly black, with dark gold pinstripes. His tie was a lighter blue, threaded with gold whorls, all of it bringing out his mismatched eyes.
Jason wanted to take him home and engage in obscene amounts of office sex, but he pushed the distracting thoughts aside to focus on business. The host escorted them to their table, a small one set in a partially secluded alcove. The lights were dimmed, furthering the impression of seclusion.
It was, despite the pretentious reputation that surrounded the place, one of his favorite places to eat. He half hoped Xavier had some last minute, emergency meeting that would leave him and Jet to enjoy a meal alone.
They'd just gotten their drinks when his feeble hope was dashed. Xavier walked toward them at an easy pace, his dark hair, faintly wine-red where the light struck it, unmistakable. His suit was an elegant three piece in a rich steel gray with a dark green tie that brought out his amber eyes.
He was as handsome as the media loved to claim, smile warm and charming as he reached them. Holding out a hand, he said, "Xavier Lord, at your service, gentlemen. Ex, please."
"Jason Kristopherson, and I think you know—at least of—my cousin, Jet," Jason said as they all shook hands. "A drink?"
"Usual stout, please," Ex told the waiter who had ghosted up. The man nodded and faded off again, leaving them alone. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," he said. "Your names come up a lot, and I admit I'm a huge fan." He smiled at Jet.
Jet laughed. "Glad you like the music. Hopefully you can meet the rest of the band sometime." He winked. "They do all the real work."
"I don't believe you," Ex said lightly, then turned to thank the waiter who returned with his beer. "Thank you for giving me a chance," he said when they were alone again, sitting back in his seat, fingers loosely wrapped around the bottom of his beer glass. "Your father was, understandably, very against any sort of deal. I am sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," Jet said quietly. "Jason tells me my father's company will be in good hands with you."
Ex nodded. "It will be. I don't waste time breaking things that work correctly. As I'm sure Jason has already told you, I want to make it part of Paradise. Open restaurants on the island, connect it to other businesses that support Paradise—everything. It will tie in nicely with other, smaller ventures as well. I've always enjoyed stopping at one whenever I'm travelling."
"Then there doesn't seem to be much to talk about, in the end. Only all the details that the lawyers and suits will handle. I'm content to hash the details out in an actual office," Jet said.
"Excellent," Ex said, smiling brightly. "Then that is what we shall do. Shall we try an appetizer? What do you like?"
They were well into their meals when Ex broached the matter of a concert. "I know you and Dai make all the major decisions for the band together, and I would never presume to force you into one without him, but I am hoping I can convince you both to come to Paradise and put on a concert."
Jet snorted in amusement. "You have got to be aware that anybody in music would cheerfully and eagerly commit murder for an invitation like that. I'll talk to Dai first, but I already know he'd be all for it. He'll probably yell at me for not just saying yes immediately, what the hell is my problem?"
Ex laughed. Jason smiled and left them to geek about music, content to let his own mind wander since he was hardly needed to keep an ear on it. He focused on business briefly, sorting out the meetings he'd have to arrange with the corporate heads to tell them the business was being sold. That would take weeks of arguing and probably a lot of yelling.
Then there would be weeks of talks with Lord Enterprises, though it was clear that both he and Ex would make the process as smooth and easy as possible. Before he knew it—three months at best, he would hazard—Jet would be free of family obligations. He probably wouldn't waste a single second in running back to his studios to start work on another album.
Jason wouldn't see him again until he had an itch to scratch or papers that needed to be signed.
He tried to push the depressing thought aside, but it stuck, and fuck if he knew how to shake it. Short of ruining a lot of lives and probably several careers ... and that was a lot to gamble when he wasn't certain at all just how deeply Jet really cared.
Stifling a sigh, he turned slightly in
his seat to flag down a waiter to refill his drink.
Track 05: Services No Longer Required
Jet tried a dozen times to think of something to say on the car ride home—well, back to Jason's home. He really needed to stop thinking of it as another home, because it wasn't.
He slid another glance at Jason, who had seemed to withdraw and turn gloomy halfway through dinner. Fuck if Jet knew why, or what to do about it. He knew what he wanted to do about it, but that wasn't exactly the same thing.
Every time he got back home after being somewhere with the band, he was terrified to go to Jason's house. Terrified that Jason would have finally done something smart, like forget about Jet and gotten a real lover. Someone he could date openly, someone who wasn't a relative and a loud-mouthed, obnoxious, flashy client.
"Thanks," he suddenly blurted.
He saw Jason's hand tighten on the steering wheel in surprise, saw Jason flick a glance at him before he put his eyes back on the road. "For what?" Jason asked after a beat of silence.
"Helping. Everything. I know you have better things to do than babysit my whiny ass."
"You just lost your father; that's hardly 'whiny'. You're my cousin and a client. Forget it."
Jet stifled a sigh and put his chin in his hand, elbow braced against the car window. He stared out at the nighttime city as they drove along, feeling lost, feeling closed in. He ached to be playing his drums, lost in the music and the crowd.
Unable to take the closed in feeling, he yanked at his tie and threw it in the back of the car. Sighing in relief, even if he knew the choking feeling was all in his head, he slumped back in his seat.
"Feel better?"
"Not really," Jet replied. "Guess I should, though, huh? At least Dad's business is taken care of. Ex seems an interesting guy, but I'm glad I don't work for him. Speaking of work, are you going to need me next week? The band is flying out Monday morning to do a private concert in New York. We won't be back until Wednesday night, possibly Thursday afternoon."